Ezra Fitz Romane & Geschichten

"Don’t worry, I think he’s too busy glaring at the guy over by the sparring ring. Something about improper stance or whatever." I shook my head, trying to hide my amusement. "You’re going to get yourself in trouble if you keep making jokes like that." He gave me a playful wink. "Worth it. Besides, you laughed, so that’s a win for me." I rolled my eyes but felt a small smile creeping across my face. Ezra’s charm was disarming in a way I hadn’t expected. He was easygoing, confident without being overbearing, and—dare I say it—refreshing compared to the usual seriousness of the pack.

Perfect. Exactly what Margot always wanted beside me. The picture of Hale respectability. She’s smiling and posing for shots. It all comes so naturally to her. “She’s hot, isn’t she?” I turn around and there’s Ezra. He grins and gives me a fist bump. “Heard you crashed a plane for attention. Unbelievable.” I smile. “Let’s not forget someone lost his life.” “You’re right. Not anything to joke about. How are you anyway? Ready for the mass exodus?”

It didn't take long for the gathered crowd to get their answer. Noticing the deepening furrows on Elijah's forehead, Eleanor realized he might not know who Ezra was. She quickly clarified, "Mr. Xanth, there are some things you are not aware of. Ezra is part of the Finch family. He is Jonathan's younger brother and shares the same mother. "Due to certain circumstances back then, Ezra took his mother's surname and never changed it. Ezra is a simple and considerate young man. "When he reached adulthood, he wanted to make it in the entertainment industry on his own without relying on the Finch family name. That's why the public doesn't know about his connection to the Finch family. But in realit

On the second day after the announcement, I saw them giggling as they accepted invites from a group of senior warriors. And then there was Ezra. This guy couldn’t take a single step without being swarmed. Girls, boys, fanboys, fangirls—everyone wanted to be on his team. I even saw a girl break down sobbing after he rejected her. She dropped out of school that same day. “What’s Ezra’s major?” I asked Roy. “You don’t know? He’s a warrior.” Of course he is. Tall, muscular, aggressive—total alpha-hole. “Is he any good?”

Ezra bit me. He bit me.

Thought of family full of girls, wouldn't it be merrier if they add two more members of the family, adds two more stubborn girls to give Carl a couple of new headaches. Ezra is now working as an 8th grade teacher on a University near them and she's actually great at it, always busy burying herself with lesson plans, checking papers, placing records, computing grades and add the fact that she has an eyeglasses right now. And Finley, Finley has been the center of the Dolora's teasing and a laugh table. She has been the talk of the family, the bit of a bug bear that comes and goes. Acting like a snot exiting and entering someone's nose.

Ezra smiled, “You look amazing, by the way” Ezra was wearing dark, slim-fitting jeans and a fitted black T-shirt. His dark brown hair was slightly longer than I remember and styled as if he’d been pushing it back all day. I hadn't seen him in person since the night of my crowning ceremony, but we frequently facetimed. “Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself.” “I’ll take that as a compliment,” Ezra winked, causing my cheeks to heat. “Time to get drunk and forget about the world for the evening,” Tessa shouted, linking arms with the both of us and dragging us out of my room.

It was just illogical for a sixty-year-old to look almost babyish. Some of the bystanders took notice of Ezra, even if most of them had no idea who he was or had gone through their lives not knowing his name. Fighters, however, knew all about him enough that the name sent shivers down their skin. Ezra was not just a big name with nothing behind it; he was the Saint’s premier retainer whose might was widely agreed to be bested only by an Invincibilis fighter. Raiden could have as many gripes with Ezra as he wanted, but even he would know to reserve some level of respect to him.

“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.

Ezra had fired the man who betrayed him and then quietly saved the person that man had been trying to protect. He didn't tell anyone. Didn't mention it to me. Didn't bring it up with Dominic except as a logistical matter. Didn't put it on any record that would connect his name to the act. He just did it, silently, the same way he'd covered my father's debts. The same way he'd sat in a chair by my bed all night without being asked. Ezra Crane, who could interrogate a man with the cold precision of a surgeon, had a blind spot the size of a continent for innocent people caught in someone else's war.