Page 114 of House Ignis

Too deep.

I looked down at my trembling fingers. Faint heat still shimmered just beneath the surface of my skin, making the air around my hands look like a desert mirage. "It felt like the well I usually draw from cracked open too wide," I admitted, my voice barely audible over the distant roar of the stadium. "Like it wasn't just flame. Like I hit the center of it."

The Core.

The word pulsed quietly in my mind, heavy and ancient.

Asher's gaze sharpened instantly. His shadows shifted, tightening at his shoulders like a physical manifestation of his unease. "The bond's intensifying," he said, his voice dropping an octave. "And it's amplifying your channel. If you're not regulating the Core properly, it's going to flood you."

Flood. That's exactly what it had felt like. A tidal wave of fire that didn't care if I had a body to hold it.

Aether stepped closer, his golden eyes narrowed into slits. "You weren't drawing. You were ripping," he said grimly through the link. "The Core doesn't like that."

I swallowed hard, the copper taste of the illness still lingering on my tongue.

"You need training," Aether continued, his presence looming large in my mind. "Real training. Not dueling drills. Control training. Before you lose control again."

Lose control. The words sat heavy in the air between us. I closed my eyes and exhaled slowly, trying to steady the heat still humming in my chest. The Core hadn't fully settled; it was quieter now, tucked back into its cage, but it was watchful. Waiting.

"Fine," I said at last, opening my eyes to meet Asher's silver stare. "But not now."

Asher tilted his head slightly, his gaze raking over my pale face. "Where are you going?"

"To the library," I replied, straightening my spine despite the ache in my ribs. "I need answers." I hesitated, the sudden hollow feeling in my stomach reminding me I hadn't eaten since the moonberry muffin. "And I need food before I pass out."

His silver eyes softened just a fraction—just enough to undo me a little.

"Then I'll walk you there," he said. "And I'll bring the food."

I blinked, surprised by the lack of a snide comment. "You don't have to—"

"I'm your bonded," he cut in smoothly, his usual smirk returning like a shield. "Which apparently now includes dealing with your annoying panther and mine."

"We heard that," Aether and Zya said in perfect, terrifying unison.

We both winced at the double-layered mental shout.

"This," Asher muttered, falling into step beside me, his shadows brushing lightly against my heel like a dark, silent promise, "is going to be very interesting."

•••

We stopped at the canteen before heading in.

"You get mean when you don't eat," he said, handing me a warm apricot pastry like it was some kind of truce offering.

"I'm always mean."

He grinned. "Exactly."

We left with a half-stolen breakfast and slipped into the edge of the human side of the Academy, where the Tower of Archives rose like a relic from another world. The runes carved into its stone pulsed faintly with ancient energy, and the air around it felt colder, heavier—as if even time had to behave here.

Inside, the Archives were hushed. Lanterns floated like quiet stars above endless rows of scroll racks and hovering transcribing glyphs. Human scholars moved between tables, heads down, hands ink-stained.

"Jules!" I called softly.

She looked up from a stack of parchment, her face lighting up as I rushed toward her. She laughed, catching me in a hug. "I thought you were dead or sulking. Or both."

"Very much alive," I smiled. "What are you doing here?"