Chapter Text
Xaden
“Please, do tell me what it was you thought I’d done.”
I stepped into the moonlight, shadows peeling off me like a discarded second skin. My pulse thundered, thrumming with something far too dangerous as I locked eyes with her. Violet. Even battered and bloodstained, she was a vision I couldn’t look away from. Gods, I wanted to drag her off that godsdamned field, shut her up with my mouth on hers, lay her down beneath me—or better yet, have her on top of me, in control, claiming what was hers, what had always been hers.
But there was Dain. Fucking Aetos. His hand dropped from her shoulder as he planted himself between us, rigid and self-righteous, like he could keep me from her. If he thought he could stake a claim, he was delusional.
“You manipulated Threshing,” he snapped, his voice tight with accusation.
I didn’t even blink. “Is that an official accusation?” I let the question hang, sharp and biting, a challenge with teeth, and watched him falter under it.
“Did you step in?” Dain pressed.
“Did I what?” I arched a brow, patience fraying. My gaze flicked to Violet—her flushed cheeks, that stubborn jaw—and my voice dropped, frustration and need lacing every word. “Did I see her outnumbered and wounded? Did I think her bravery was as admirable as it was fucking reckless?”
I stared her down, let her feel the weight of my longing, the pull that made me want to tear apart anyone who touched her. “And I would do it again.”
Her chin lifted, stubborn and infuriating. Gods, I wanted to kiss her senseless right there.
“Well-the-fuck-aware,” I snapped, my voice louder than I intended, breaking through my carefully controlled exterior. I drew a shaky breath, matching hers. Shit. I was too close to losing it.
“Did I see her fight off three bigger cadets?” I spat at Dain, who flinched. “Because the answer was yes. But you were asking the wrong fucking question, Aetos. What you should’ve been asking was if Sgaeyl saw it, too.”
Dain’s gaze dropped, his confidence cracking as realization hit him.
“His mate told him,” Violet whispered, her voice a fragile thread in the night.
“She’s never been a fan of bullies,” I admitted, my tone softening only for her. “But don’t mistake that for kindness. She’s fond of the little one. Unfortunately”—I let the bitterness twist through my voice—“Tairn chose you all on his own.”
“Fuck,” Dain muttered.
“My thought exactly.” I shook my head, frustration churning inside me. I couldn’t stand the way he was looking at her, like she was his to protect.
“Sorrengail was the last person on the Continent I’d ever want to be chained to me,” I ground out, catching the flash of hurt in her eyes. It twisted like a dagger in my chest. But it was necessary. She had to think I wanted this as little as she did, that I didn’t lie awake every night imagining her.
I caught the wounded flicker in her gaze, and it nearly undid me. But I couldn’t say what I really wanted to—I’m falling for you so hard it terrifies me.
Instead, I locked my jaw, hoping she understood it was all for show, that the last thing I’d ever do was reject her. Not when she was everything.
“And even if I had.”
I stepped closer, looming over Aetos, my voice dropping low and dangerous. “Would you really level that accusation knowing it would’ve been what saved the woman you call your best friend?”
Violet’s gaze snapped to Dain. The question hung there, heavy and raw, and I watched her hold her breath, waiting for his answer—waiting to hear if she had ever truly meant anything to him.
“There are…rules,” Dain said, tilting his chin up to meet my glare.
I let ice creep into my voice. “And out of curiosity, would you have, let’s say, bent those rules to save your precious little Violet in that field?” My words were sharper than any blade. I watched his face as the truth cut through him, as he realized what I was really asking.
Dain’s jaw clenched. My gut twisted as I caught the slight, almost imperceptible step I’d taken toward her that day—right before Tairn had landed, when I had nearly broken every rule to keep her alive.
“That’s unfair to ask him,” Violet interjected softly, stepping closer to Dain’s side, her voice barely carrying over the wind that stirred as the dragons returned.
I ignored the ache that surged through me, the way she still tried to shield him, even when he wouldn’t have done the same for her. “I’m ordering you to answer, squad leader,” I demanded, my voice a growl.
Dain swallowed hard, his lips pressing into a thin line. His eyes slammed shut as he finally choked out, “No. I wouldn’t have.”
The words hit her like a blade, her shoulders sagging, the light dimming from her eyes. I caught the flicker of hurt, the way her heart shattered—and I hated him for putting it there, for making her see it so plainly.
I scoffed, the sound bitter in my throat. Gods, I wanted to reach for her, to pull her into my arms, to whisper that I would’ve broken every godsdamned rule for her without a second thought.
Dain jerked his head toward her, desperation leaking into his voice. “It would have killed me to watch something happen to you, Vi, but the rules—”
“It’s all right,” she said softly, her hand resting on his shoulder, but her voice was thin, strained. And it wasn’t all right. Not even close.
I forced my attention away from them as the dragons began to land, the heavy beat of wings slicing through the night. “The dragons are returning,” I said roughly. “Get back to formation, squad leader.”
Dain’s gaze lingered on her for a second longer before he finally pulled away, blending into the rushing crowd.
I didn’t move. My eyes stayed on Violet, tracing the hurt still etched in her features, the ache of betrayal, the weight of choices and consequences.
And gods help me, I knew I’d choose her. Every time.
“Why would you do that to him?” she snapped at me, her voice sharp with pain. But before I could answer, she shook her head, muttering, “Forget it.”
I watched her march away, back toward where Tairn had told her to wait, her anger shimmering off her like heat waves. And despite the throb of my own frustration, I couldn’t let her walk away like that—not from me.
“Because you put too much faith in him,” I called after her, catching up without even lengthening my stride. My voice was low, strained with more than I dared admit. “And knowing who to trust was the only thing that would keep you alive—keep us alive—not only in the quadrant but after graduation.”
Gods, I wanted to reach for her, to tell her I hadn’t been trying to hurt her, that it was killing me to see her faith in Aetos crumble. But I didn’t. I never could.
She didn’t stop, but I could see her shoulders tense. Her stubbornness was infuriating and intoxicating all at once.
“Tairn’s bonds were so powerful, both to mate and rider, because he was so powerful,” I continued, trying to make her understand the gravity of what she’d done. “Losing his last rider nearly killed him, which, in turn, nearly killed Sgaeyl. Mated pairs’ lives were—”
“Interdependent, I know that,” she snapped, cutting me off. But her voice cracked, just a little.
We moved forward, falling into step as the dragons began to land around us, a breathtaking display of power and might—but all I could focus on was her. The stubborn tilt of her chin, the way she held herself together when I knew she was falling apart inside.
“Each time a dragon chose a rider, that bond was stronger than the last,” I said softly, my voice dropping lower so only she could hear. “Which meant that if you died, Violence, it set off a chain of events that could end with me dying, too.”
The words tasted like a confession, and I hated how much truth they carried.
I wanted to pull her into my arms, press my lips against hers and drown in her, erase the ache I saw in her eyes. But I couldn’t. So I stood beside her, close enough to feel the tension in her shoulders, close enough to almost breathe her in, and said nothing more.
“And now that Tairn was in play, that other cadets knew he was willing to bond…” I sighed, a ripple of frustration tightening my jaw as I glanced away from her. She was standing so close, her golden hair catching the mage lights like spun flame, and I had to lock my hands into fists to keep from reaching for her.
“That’s why Tairn told me to stay with you,” she whispered, her voice threading through my chest like a needle pulling a stitch tight. “Because of the unbonded.”
I glanced across the field, the shadowy figures of the unbonded riders watching us with greedy, calculating eyes—including Seifert, who’d already proven himself to be a threat. My stomach knotted. “The unbonded were going to try to kill you,” I said quietly, my voice almost too soft for anyone but her to hear. “They’d hope Tairn would pick them if they took you out of the equation.”
Garrick approached, his mouth set in a grim line, but when he saw the way I was watching her—so tense, so unwilling to look away—he just nodded and walked off, leaving us alone in the gathering darkness.
I turned back to her, taking a slow breath as if it might steady the rush of possessiveness and pride coiling through me. “Tairn was one of the strongest dragons on the Continent,” I murmured, my tone roughening with admiration. “And the vast power he channeled was about to be yours.” My voice dropped even lower. “You’d already proven yourself worthy. But the unbonded—they’d do anything to steal that power from you before your bond fully strengthened. For Tairn? They’d risk it all.”
I sighed again, softer this time, the weight of my worry pressing against my ribs. She was too brave, too stubborn, too…herself to ever back down. It terrified me and drew me closer all at once.
“There were forty-one unbonded riders,” I said quietly, my eyes locking on hers, the heat of my gaze almost too much to hold. “And you, Violence… you were target number one.”
I lifted a single finger, brushing it ever so lightly in the air, wanting more than anything to press it to her lips, to her cheek, to remind her that even if I couldn’t act on the way I felt, she was never out of my reach.
We reached Tairn and Andarna, who had just landed. I caught her wrist as she turned away from me, the soft, quick beat of her pulse thudding against my thumb. “It’s going to be all right,” I murmured, my voice low and rough. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”
She turned, her eyes locking on mine, and for a breathless moment, she just…looked at me. Like she was seeing everything I was too much of a coward to say out loud. Her gaze unfocused, her lips parted slightly, and before I could so much as breathe her name, Tairn lowered his massive wing, shielding us from the rest of the world.
And then—she was in my arms. She hauled herself against me, slamming her mouth against mine. For a second, I was frozen, stunned by the feel of her, the taste of her, but then I groaned low in my throat, my hands finding her waist, hauling her closer until there was no space left between us.
She kissed me like I was air and she was drowning, her fingers tangling in my hair, tugging me even closer. My hands slid down, one gripping her ass, pulling her up against me, grinding her hips into mine. The desperation of it set me on fire, my control slipping with every brush of her lips, every muffled sound of need she made against my mouth.
I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I kissed her like it was the last time I’d ever get the chance, like she was the only thing tethering me to sanity. My heart pounded, my blood raced, my shadows pulled closer to us even as I forced myself to hold back.
But I broke away first, panting against her lips, our foreheads pressed together. “Violence, we couldn’t—”
“I know,” she whispered, cutting me off, her breath a ghost across my mouth. “But I needed it. Needed you.”
I leaned in, capturing her lips once more in a kiss that was softer but no less desperate. “Me too, Violence,” I murmured against her mouth, tasting her name, her fire, her stubborn will.
Tairn’s wing lifted, the world rushing back in with all its noise and light, but I stayed there for a heartbeat longer, my chest aching, my body screaming at the loss of her warmth.
Then I stepped back, leaving her there with him—my heart, my soul, and my every damn thought tangled up in her.
Garrick leaned against Chradh, his smirk practically glowing in the mage light as I approached. “So, you and the general’s daughter… that little stunt with Tairn’s wing? Very subtle.”
“Not funny,” I snapped, but the chuff Sgaeyl gave beside me didn't help my mood. As if she was encouraging his teasing.
“Subtle,” Garrick repeated, laughter lacing his voice. “You’re lucky Tairn didn’t just haul her off to some hidden cave.”
I scowled, my focus snapping to Violet, standing too far away, radiant even in the low light. I wanted to be the one shielding her, wrapping her in safety, taking her where no one can touch her. I clenched my jaw.
“Is this going to be a problem?” Garrick asked, amusement still thick in his voice.
“No.” The word bit out, sharper than I intended, because it was a lie. It already was a problem. It always had been a problem, and it was only getting worse.
“I’m fine.” I scanned the first-years who survived Threshing.
“I’ve seen corpses more fine than you,” Garrick muttered.
“Of course corpses are fine,” I said, my voice rougher than I intended. “They have nothing to worry about.”
But I did. Or rather, I wanted to. Especially now, after Melgren’s smug announcement that Violet—my Violet—got to bond her dragons. A rare thing. A dangerous thing. And yet it was so…her. Perfectly, impossibly her.
I lowered my shields just enough to feel the hum of the bonds, the new connections that tangled with my own. The familiar, hard sapphire thread of Sgaeyl was as constant as ever, but there were two more now. One dark, sharp as onyx—Tairn. And the other, a delicate shimmer of silver, soft as the ends of her hair.
Fuck. Tairn really did bond her.
And not just any bond. It was the kind of bond that tethered me to her now, no matter how hard I fought against it. A connection that only a mating pair like Sgaeyl and Tairn could forge, pulling me into Violet’s orbit, wrapping her into mine.
She looked across the field at me, and my shields snapped back into place as if it would keep her gaze from pulling me in deeper. I lifted a finger—keep your distance, Violence. But gods, the thought of her being anyone’s target, anyone’s risk but mine, made my chest ache in a way I didn’t want to examine too closely.
“Guess we’ll need to keep her alive,” Garrick said softly, watching General Sorrengail step up to the dais to deliver her speech about family—hypocrite.
“Yeah,” I murmured, my gaze never leaving her, my heart beating harder with every second. How the fuck was I supposed to keep her alive through all of this, when the thought of her breaking, of her gone—
I glanced toward Liam, standing tall beside his new Red Daggertail, dragons gifting riders their relics. “Maybe I should move Liam into her squad,” I muttered, already imagining him at her side, his quiet steadiness a balm to her stubborn bravery.
“Liam?” Garrick echoed.
“He’s the best in his year,” I said, though it wasn’t just about strategy. Liam was family. He’d protect her—not just because I asked him to, but because he’d care. He couldn’t not. “I trained him. He can handle it.”
“Or you could give her a chance to make it on her own,” Garrick said with a grin, folding his arms.
“She’ll like him,” I said, the words tasting bitter in my mouth.
Garrick’s grin widened. “Don’t worry. He won’t fuck her.”
My glare shot to him. “Of course he won’t fu-”
The words caught in my throat, dying as Aetos walked up behind her, reaching for her armor, his hands brushing her skin like he had any right to touch her. She just got her relic from Tairn.
I sucked in a breath, forcing it out slowly even as shadows clawed at the ground beneath me.
“Relax, he’s lacing her back up,” Garrick said, clearly amused. “See? She’s already turning around.”
But then she turned. Aetos lifted his hands to her face, and shadows snapped around me, vision blurring, my pulse thundering in my ears.
“Nothing to… Oh shit,” Garrick whispered, voice fading as Aetos kissed her.
My blood went molten, burning through me like wildfire. That son of a bitch had his mouth on her—on my Violet. Not mine. Not really. But gods, I wanted her to be.
But then she turned. Aetos lifted his hands to her face, and shadows snapped around me, vision blurring, my pulse thundering in my ears.
“Nothing to… Oh shit,” Garrick whispered, his voice fading as Aetos kissed her.
My blood went molten, burning through me like wildfire. That bastard had his mouth on her—on my Violet. Not mine. Not really. But gods, I wanted her to be.
I stayed frozen, shadows thrashing beneath my skin, claws of rage scraping at the edges of my vision, until—
She pushed him.
Her hands landed hard on his chest, shoving him back, and he stumbled, his mouth falling open in shock. She wiped her lips with the back of her hand, her face flushed with fury and…disgust. And then she just stood there, blinking like she was trying to process what had just happened—like her brother had kissed her by mistake.
I breathed in sharply, relief flooding through me, but it was tangled with something darker, something raw and possessive. She didn’t want him. She never had.
Garrick let out a low whistle from beside me, his voice pitched with amusement. “Damn, Riorson, I haven’t seen you look this close to losing it since Sgaeyl threw you off her back on your first ride.”
“Shut it, Garrick,” I ground out, shadows coiling around my fists, barely held in check. I could feel them clawing for release, desperate to lash out, to pull her out of that mess of people and drag her somewhere—anywhere—where no one else could touch her, could look at her, could make her flush that deep red.
But she wasn’t mine. Not in any way that mattered, not to them.
“She looked like she was going to vomit,” Garrick chuckled, leaning against Chradh, his smug grin widening. “Guess that answers the whole ‘does she like Aetos’ question.”
I raked a hand through my hair, forcing a deep breath into my lungs, the air heavy with dragonfire and tension. “She doesn’t want him,” I said under my breath, not even realizing I’d spoken aloud until Garrick snorted.
“Yeah, but she’s not exactly yours either, is she?” he murmured, his voice dropping just low enough for me to hear.
I clenched my jaw, forcing the shadows back down into my skin, swallowing the urge to grab her, to steal her away and show her exactly how much she was mine. The way she kissed me earlier, the way she’d molded against me—her need, her desperation—it wasn’t for Aetos. It wasn’t for anyone but me.
“She’s not his,” I said, voice raw. “Not ever.”
Garrick’s smirk softened, and for once, he didn’t tease. “Careful, Xaden. You’re starting to sound like a man in love.”
I turned my head just enough to glare at him, but it wasn’t enough to hide the truth written all over my face. “Don’t push me, Garrick.”
He lifted his hands in mock surrender, but his grin never faded. “You’re already pushed, Riorson. You just haven’t admitted it to yourself yet.”
I let my eyes drift back to her—my Violence—standing there in the chaos of dragons and riders, her golden hair catching the mage lights like fire. The ache in my chest was almost unbearable.
And gods, if I didn’t get her out of here soon, I was going to lose my fucking mind.