Page 208 of House Ignis

It was a look I'd seen once before—the same ruthless, high-born gleam that belonged to his father, the General. Cold. Calculating. Born to command.

But Asher wasn't down.

He moved—gods, he moved so fast the shadows blurred into a smear of darkness.

They tore off him in a torrent, streaking across the dirt like black lightning.

They hit Jeremy before he could fully raise a shield, the force of the impact staggering the earth wielder.

Roots clawed upward in a desperate defense, but they were too late,

already tangled and choking beneath Asher's shadows.

Jeremy roared, ripping free with a concussive blast of magic that cracked the air like thunder.

The ground split again, jagged stone spears erupting from the soil toward Asher's feet.

Asher dodged, spun, and let shadows coil around his arms until they lengthened into jagged blades.

Jeremy punched the ground, sending a row of spikes toward Asher's ribs, but Asher sliced through them as if they were made of paper.

Then he launched forward.

The impact rattled the wards around the arena, magic flaring in warning along the perimeter stones.

The crowd was on its feet, a deafening wall of sound, but all I could hear was the frantic rhythm of my own ragged breath.

Every strike was meant to maim.

Every counter was meant to break.

This wasn't a dare anymore; it was a vendetta.

Roots and shadow tore across the pitch, each impact sending tremors through the stands.

"Asher!" I shouted as he slammed Jeremy back again.

Shadows snapped like whips around Jeremy's throat, constricting for a lethal second before the earth prince blasted free with an explosive surge of earth.

Jeremy's face twisted, his green eyes wild and desperate.

His hands hit the dirt again, roots and stone ripping upward into a jagged, impassable barricade between them.

"You think you're untouchable, Maddox?" he roared, his voice carrying over the wind. "No wonder you hide in the dark—because in the light, she'll eventually see what you really are! A monster playing at being a male!"

Instead of retreating, instead of snarling back—Asher laughed.

He actually laughed, the sound echoing through the stadium like a death knell.

Shadows writhed around him, his grin razor-sharp and devoid of mercy.

“That all you've got, prince?” Asher called, his voice carrying with an unnatural resonance across the pitch.

"Asher, stop!" I screamed, my voice cracking under the strain. "Stop taunting him!"

Beside me, Ezra's face was a mask of cold stone.

"He won't stop," Ezra said flatly, his gaze fixed on the carnage. "That's what he does. He pushes until there's nothing left. He breaks things. That's how he wins."