Page 223 of House Ignis

I would have hit the dirt face-first if arms like iron hadn’t caught me mid-fall, hauling me back against his chest.

“Enough!” Ezra’s voice thundered, vibrating through my very bones.

Shadows whipped out from him like a living shroud, smothering the remnants of my flames before they could consume me.

I struggled against him, my chest heaving, heavy sobs finally breaking loose and shattering the morning quiet.

“No—I can’t stop—I can’t let it be this quiet—”

His grip only tightened, anchoring me against him until I had no choice but to feel the steady, rhythmic thud of his heart.

“Breathe, Ava,” he commanded, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly register. “You’re burning yourself alive just to feel a spark. Stop.”

My fire sputtered wildly, dying sparks snapping and hissing in the cold air. I sucked in a shaky, shallow breath, but the panic clawing through my chest refused to ease its grip.

Ezra shifted his hold, one warm hand settling against the small of my back.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice softer now, a stark contrast to the thunder of a moment ago. “Look at me.”

Something in me finally faltered. Not because of the cold or the exhaustion, but because he simply refused to let me fall apart.

“You’re okay,” he said, his tone steady and absolutely certain. “I’ve got you.”

The flames dancing around my hands flickered, weakened—and finally died.

Ash drifted down to the damp grass, grey and lifeless.

I sagged against him, my body trembling so violently it felt like my muscles were finally remembering how exhausted they truly were.

For a long moment, neither of us moved.

The mist swirled around our ankles, and the silence of the field was no longer terrifying—it was just quiet.

Then Ezra’s hands slid to my shoulders, pushing me back just enough to look at me properly.

His fingers were calloused and warm, a physical tether to the present.

“Ava—look at me.”

His voice was sharp enough to cut through the grey fog clinging to my thoughts. He reached up, his hands framing my face and forcing my gaze to meet his.

“You need to learn how to live without him,” he said quietly, the words sounding rough, as if they cost him something to say.

Tears blurred my vision, hot and relentless.

“What if I can’t?” I whispered, the fear finally given a voice. “What if there's nothing left when the fire goes out?”

“Then you fight anyway. You fight the silence until you find your own voice again.”

His voice dropped lower, thick with a conviction that made my chest ache. “You are Zymarra’s flame, Hotshot. Queen or not, you’re the strongest fucking person I’ve ever known.”

His thumbs brushed the tears from my cheeks, his touch surprisingly tender for someone who looked like he wanted to punch the world.

“You could burn kingdoms to the ground, Ava. Don't let yourself be the first one to turn to ash.”

For a moment, neither of us moved. The mist curled around the field, the grass still damp beneath our boots, and the last traces of manic heat finally faded from my skin.

Ezra studied me with an intensity that suggested he was making sure I wouldn’t spontaneously explode again.