Pll Ezra Fitz Novels & Stories

“You’re making her feel like the plague.” “Maybe she is.” Elen snorts. “That’s rich coming from the boy who fell in love with a fire-soul, kissed a moon-blessed, and still walks around like fate owes him something.” I glare at him but he’s not wrong. He never is. Later, when the sun starts going down and paints the yard in gold, I find Ezra in the courtyard training field, shirtless, sparring with two Guen warriors. He moves like thunder given flesh. His blade dances. His stance is anger wrapped in grace.

Felix said. Ezra looked at Felix, his expression full of guilt. Back then, he hadn't stepped forward, but he had no choice. After all, as the leader of Harmony Clinic, he couldn't afford to act recklessly. "Felix, I really owe you one. Harmony Clinic's future rise will all be thanks to you." Even though Felix was still officially a member of Harmony Clinic, Ezra wouldn't dare act superior to him, not anymore. Forget about Felix himself—even the mere presence of the Empress and Zara was enough to make the world think twice.

“What?” “Lia is not my fated mate. The two of us got married to kill Killian. Things have changed in our plans to being more intimate. Therefore, instead of this being just a deal, the two of us are a real couple.” Ezra said, and his mother shook her head, clearly not wanting to believe him. “I do not expect a reaction or a response. But everything is about to change, and I wanted you to be in the picture of this. Killian would be dying, and I will be sure that my siblings’ blood doesn’t go in vain.” “Ezra, you are insane. The man…”

Felicity asked. “Whoever won the fight could have you.” Ezra said and Felicity playfully slapped him, “have me?!” Ezra kissed his mate, “we were like ten, but we both saw you at that party, remember? You were wearing a pink dress.” “Purple,” Felicity and I both said at the same time. “Oh, yeah, purple.” Ezra replied, while Felicity nervously bit her lip. Ezra didn’t seem to notice. He’s tends to miss the smaller details. Always has.

Ezra sits himself down on the sofa, a little closer than he likely needed to be, but oddly, I don’t think I minded… He smelled divine… “So, what do you think of our pack, Lena? You like it?” He asks, leaning back into the cushions of the sofa, one hand on his beer, the other moved behind his head. His long legs were stretched out in front of him. I cannot help but allow my eyes to drift across his body... He was tall. Toned too. A lot like his brother. But I think Ezra’s features were more chiselled. Defined. Modelesque, I suppose you could say. He was handsome. Undeniably so. And there was a tattoo decorating his lower arm...

“No. We need retirement.” “We need certainty,” I reply. “Those are different things.” “Yes.” Ezra remains focused on the point. Controlled. Disciplined. No visible reaction to what just happened. But I know him well enough to notice the increased precision in his posture. He is narrowing himself. Closing unnecessary doors. Good. Necessary. The point rests in the projection at a balanced distance once more. Neither advancing nor withdrawing. No pulse. No pressure. Waiting. Always waiting. “It may have responded to pattern interruption,” I say.

We stood there for another moment in the bathroom in the morning light and I let myself have it fully, this moment, this man, this life that we had broken and rebuilt and were living properly now. I let myself have all of it without immediately moving on to the next thing. Then the doorway filled. Ezra stood there in his pyjamas with his elephant under one arm and his hair in chaos of someone who had been asleep hard and recently. He looked at me. He looked at Kian. He looked at my stomach with the focused assessment of a small person conducting an evaluation. "Mama stomach It's bigger," he pointed at my belly. "Good morning to you too," I laughed.

Rise Entertainment had been established because of him. Finley immediately thought about what Jonathan had said in the elevator. Was Jonathan planning to let Ezra fulfill the marriage alliance with Yara instead? He dared not speak this thought aloud, but the comprehension laced with surprise in his eyes told Jonathan enough. "What are you doing here?" Ezra asked sullenly when he saw Jonathan. Though Ezra and Jonathan were siblings, their meetings were always hostile. If one didn't know better, one might think they had some age-old feud to settle. Ezra had been dragged back to Regalia when he visited Aquastead twice. After the second time, he had been placed under the "protection" of the Azur

Ezra was leaning back against the headboard, one knee bent, lazily flipping through Adrian’s notes as if he owned them, and by extension, him. “You write too neat,” Ezra murmured, tapping his pen against a word in Adrian’s margin. “Makes me wonder if you’re that careful with everything you touch.” The smile that followed wasn’t friendly, it was calculated, slow, the kind of smile that worked under your skin. Adrian’s throat felt tight. “I’m just… organized.” “Organized, huh?” Ezra tilted his head, eyes sweeping over him without shame. “You should teach me sometime. I’m a fast learner.” His tone dripped with something heavier than study talk, but he didn’t break eye contact long enough for Ad

“She admits it. And still plays the martyr.” I look between them. My pulse is racing. “You want me to trust you but all I see is you keeping secrets and shouting at people who try to help me.” “You want the truth?” Ezra says. “Then stop looking for it in the mouths of people who poisoned your memories.” “You think I can just forget everyone who was kind to me because you say they’re evil?” Ezra takes a step forward. His voice rises. “No. I want you to remember who you are without being controlled. I want you to see what they did. What Drake did.”