Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Violet
I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to the steady drip of rain against the windowpane. Sleep was impossible. My mind wouldn’t stop racing, and with every tick of the clock, the weight of tomorrow pressed down harder.
Tomorrow, my mother would call me into her office and tell me what I already knew—I was going to be a Scribe. Like my father. Safe. Sheltered. Quiet.
I rolled onto my side, frustration curling in my gut like a coil ready to snap. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t just wait here while she decided my future. I had always been the fragile one, the careful one, the one who did what she was told. But tonight… I wanted to be someone else.
I thought of Brennan and Mira, of the way they used to talk about Chandra—the pulse of life, the music, the freedom. A place where no one knew your name, and you could lose yourself in the night.
For just one night.
I sat up, pulse quickening. My decision was made before I could talk myself out of it. I threw on my cloak, slipped into my boots, and slid through the halls like a shadow. The Citadel was silent, the walls whispering secrets I would never hear. When I reached the outer gates, I didn’t look back.
The road to Chandra was winding and slick with rain, but the city’s glow pulsed ahead like a heartbeat calling me forward.
The first tavern I found was alive with firelight and music. Laughter spilled into the street, and I ducked inside, letting the warmth and chaos wrap around me like a blanket. The smell of smoke, ale, and something sweet curled in the air.
I pushed my way toward the bar, heart hammering with a mix of nerves and exhilaration. I had barely made it to the counter when someone stepped in front of me, a tall man with slicked-back hair and a smirk that made my stomach twist.
“Well, what do we have here?” he drawled, leaning in close enough that I could smell the sharp bite of whiskey on his breath.
I stepped back instinctively. “I’m just trying to get a drink.”
He didn’t move. In fact, he stepped closer, his hand brushing against my arm. “Let me buy it for you, sweetheart. You’re too pretty to be alone tonight.”
“I’m fine,” I said, my voice firm but polite.
He chuckled, low and unpleasant, and his hand tightened around my wrist. “Don’t be shy now. I don’t bite—unless you’re into that.”
My pulse spiked. I tried to pull back, but his grip held. “I said, no.”
His smirk widened. “C’mon, don’t be like that. Just one drink—”
A shadow fell over us, and a voice cut through the noise, dark and commanding.
“I believe the lady said no, Draven.”
The man’s head snapped up, and his smirk vanished. His face paled as he took a step back, releasing my wrist like it was on fire. “Xaden,” he muttered, voice trembling.
I turned, my breath catching. The man standing behind me was tall, dark-haired, and utterly magnetic. His eyes were black ice, watching me with a mix of irritation and something else—something dangerous.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize—” Draven stammered.
“You didn’t realize she said no?” Xaden’s voice was quiet but razor-sharp.
Draven blanched, mumbled an apology, and disappeared into the crowd.
For a long moment, I just stared at the man who had saved me, my heart pounding in my chest.
“Thank you,” I managed, my voice barely audible over the music.
His lips twitched, but it wasn’t quite a smile. “You shouldn’t be here.”
I lifted my chin, defiance sparking in me. “And you should?”
For the first time, his eyes softened just a fraction. He stepped closer, lowering his voice so only I could hear. “It’s dangerous here. Especially for someone who doesn’t know how to handle herself.”
I opened my mouth to retort, but the words died when he leaned in, his breath warm against my ear.
“But don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

Xaden
I’d known coming to Chantara tonight was a mistake the second we walked through the door. It’s too loud, too crowded, and the smell of cheap ale and sweat mixes with something sharper underneath—something that feels like a warning.
But Garrick had insisted, and after days of training and sneaking around doing weapon drops for Poromiel, I’d let myself be dragged out with the others. I told myself it wouldn’t matter. That I could lose myself for a night, keep my head down, and pretend I wasn’t who I am.
And then she walked in.
I noticed her the moment she stepped through the door. Not because she was loud or flashy—no, it was the opposite. She slipped through the crowd like a shadow, wide-eyed but determined, her head held just high enough to pretend she belonged here. Her hair, silver at the ends, caught the magelights, a streak of moonlight in the dark.
I should’ve looked away. Should’ve gone back to my drink, ignored the way my pulse tightened when she smiled nervously at the bartender.
But then Draven saw her.
The bastard always did know how to sniff out weakness. He slithered up to her like the snake he is, leaning too close, crowding her space. I watched her try to pull back, watched the flicker of discomfort in her eyes, and something in me snapped.
Before I knew it, I was standing, crossing the room in three long strides.
“I believe the lady said no, Draven.”
His face turned the color of ash when he saw me. He let her go immediately, mumbling some pathetic excuse before scuttling away like the coward he is.
The girl turned, her eyes wide as they met mine. Up close, I could see the freckles dusting her nose, the curve of her lips parted in surprise. She was… stunning.
And she had no idea who I was.
“Thank you,” she said softly, her voice trembling just enough to make me want to crush anyone who ever made her feel unsafe.
I kept my voice low, smooth. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Her chin lifted, defiance flaring in her eyes. “And you should?”
I almost smiled. Almost. There was something about her—this mix of fire and vulnerability—that pulled at me like gravity. Like fate.
I leaned in, letting my breath brush her ear, just to see her shiver. “It’s dangerous here. Especially for someone who doesn’t know how to handle herself.”
She bristled, and it sent a thrill through me. She wasn’t the type to cower. I liked that. More than I should.
“But don’t worry,” I murmured, stepping back just enough to meet her eyes. “I’ve got you.”
I should’ve walked away the second Draven slithered off with his tail between his legs. Should’ve gone back to my drink, ignored the way she looked up at me with wide, startled eyes and the hint of a smile tugging at her lips.
But I didn’t.
She was still watching me, curiosity flickering in those silver eyes. “You going to sit with me, or do you always just stand around intimidating people?”
My lips twitched. She didn’t know me. Didn’t know who I was, what I was. It was… refreshing. Dangerous, but refreshing.
I gestured toward the bar. “Might as well make sure no one else tries anything stupid.”
She grinned—a slow, wicked thing that made my pulse tighten. “I can take care of myself, you know.”
“Sure you can.” I leaned closer, letting the words curl low and smooth between us. “That’s why Draven ran off so fast.”
Her cheeks flushed, but her gaze didn’t waver. She turned to the bartender. “Two whiskeys. One for me, and one for the man who scared off my shadow.”
The bartender nodded, pouring the drinks without question. She slid one glass toward me, her fingers brushing mine for the briefest moment. It felt like static, a spark that shot through me and settled low in my gut.
She raised her glass. “To freedom,” she said, her voice soft but steady.
I clinked mine against hers. “To fate.”
We drank, the burn of the whiskey cutting through the haze of smoke and laughter. She licked her lips, chasing a drop of liquid with the tip of her tongue, and my thoughts derailed completely.
My gaze dropped to her mouth, the way it curved, the way it moved when she spoke, and suddenly all I could think about was what else that mouth could do. The way she’d taste if I kissed her. The way she’d sound if I pulled her closer, tilted her head back, and claimed her right here against the bar.
I swallowed hard, trying to drag my thoughts back under control.
She noticed. Of course she noticed. The wicked gleam in her eyes told me she knew exactly what she was doing. “Something wrong?” she asked, voice sweet and dripping with challenge.
I leaned in, my voice dropping a notch. “You’re playing with fire, freckles.”
Her breath hitched. Good. Her pulse fluttered at her throat, and I had the sudden, dangerous urge to lower my mouth and trace it with my tongue.
But instead, I forced myself to step back, to give her space, to let her make the next move.
She smiled—slow, teasing, knowing. “Maybe I like the heat.”
Fuck.
For a long, charged moment, we just stared at each other, the noise of the tavern fading into nothing. The tension between us coiled tighter, pulling me in, daring me to cross a line I shouldn’t even be near.
I should walk away. But I couldn’t.
“Come on,” I said roughly, standing and offering her my hand. “Let’s get out of here.”
Her eyes sparkled, her fingers slipping into mine without hesitation. “Lead the way.”
I should’ve just walked her out, made sure she got home safe. That’s what I told myself. But as we passed the crowded tables near the back of the tavern, I felt familiar eyes burning into my back.
I stopped, turning to face them.
Garrick, Bodhi, Imogen, and Quinn were sitting at a corner table, drinks half-finished, a haze of smoke curling around them. Garrick was already grinning like an idiot, his elbow propped on the table as he leaned forward.
“Well, well,” he drawled, his gaze flicking between me and the girl beside me. “Looks like you found yourself a distraction tonight, Xaden.”
She stiffened, her hand slipping from mine, but I didn’t let her pull away completely.
“Mind your business, Garrick,” I said coolly.
Bodhi just smirked, lifting his glass in a silent toast. “Enjoy the night,” he said, voice low and amused.
Imogen’s sharp gaze locked onto the girl, her eyes narrowing, calculating. I could almost see the wheels turning in her head, already trying to figure out who this mystery woman was.
The girl lifted her chin, her defiance sparking. She met Imogen’s stare without flinching. “Is there a problem?” she asked, voice calm but edged with challenge.
Imogen’s lips curved into a slow, cold smile. “Not yet,” she said softly.
I stepped between them before the tension could snap, letting my voice drop to a warning growl. “Let’s go.”
Without waiting for an answer, I took her hand again and led her toward the door, leaving Garrick’s laughter and Imogen’s silent questions behind us.
As we stepped back into the night, I glanced down at the girl beside me, my mind a dangerous mess of thoughts I shouldn’t be thinking.
I didn’t even know her name. We walked through the buzzing streets of Chandra, her hand brushing against mine, and I couldn’t stop looking at her. The way her hair caught the lamplight, the curve of her lips as she teased me with her smile—it was maddening.
“I’m surprised you didn’t just disappear into the shadows,” she said, glancing up at me with that wicked gleam in her eyes.
I chuckled softly, the sound rough in my throat. “You didn’t look like you wanted me to.”
She bit her lip, and I nearly groaned. I couldn’t stop my hand from brushing against the small of her back, pulling her just a little closer. She didn’t resist.
“Tell me your name,” I said, my voice low, rough.
She hesitated, her pulse fluttering at her throat. “Violet,” she said finally, her voice soft and breathless.
I let the name settle on my tongue, savoring it. “Xaden,” I said, just as quietly.
Her brows lifted, curiosity flickering in her eyes. “You’re a rider?”
I nodded, a smirk playing at the corner of my lips. “Yeah. You could say that.”
“I live at Basgiath too,” she said, her tone almost teasing, like she was confessing a secret.
My pulse quickened. Something about her felt familiar, though I couldn’t place it. I knew she wasn’t just some tavern girl. But the way she looked at me—open, curious, completely unafraid—was nothing like anyone I’d ever met there.
We stopped at a shadowed corner behind the main building, the soft glow of lanterns flickering against her skin. For a moment, we just stared at each other, the air thick with something electric.
She stepped closer, her breath hitching as she tilted her chin up. She was so small, her face barely reaching my collarbone. My hands moved without thought, cradling her face between them, my thumbs brushing her flushed cheeks.
I lowered my head, and our lips met.
The kiss wasn’t gentle. It was fire and hunger and desperation, a clash of teeth and tongues that sent the world tilting beneath us. She melted into me, her hands fisting in my shirt, and I couldn’t stop the low growl that rumbled from my chest.
I was hard, aching, completely undone by her. Every instinct screamed to pull her closer, to take more, to brand her with my touch.
Her lips parted, her breath hitching against mine, and just when I thought I might lose every shred of control I had left—she broke the kiss.
But before I could even catch my breath, she grabbed my hand and tugged me toward a side door. I let her pull me, my pulse thundering in my ears.
We hurried down the dark corridor, slipping inside one of the empty infantry rooms, her eyes dark with something wild and reckless.
And I followed her, already lost.
The door clicked shut behind us, sealing us away from the noise and chaos outside. Before I could even process what was happening, she was on me again—pressing her body against mine, her mouth on mine, urgent and demanding.
I groaned, deep and guttural, as her hands tangled in my hair, tugging just hard enough to make my pulse spike. My hands slid down her back, gripping her ass and pulling her flush against me, needing to feel every inch of her. She gasped as she felt me hard against her stomach.
Her lips trailed down my jaw, across my throat, her breath hot and teasing. I tilted my head, giving her access, and when her teeth grazed the spot just below my ear, I nearly lost it.
“You’re playing with fire, freckles,” I growled, my voice rough against her skin.
She just smiled, her hands skimming over my chest, fingers tracing the lines of my muscles through my shirt. I couldn’t stand it. I needed her—needed to see her, to feel her.
I yanked her shirt over her head, baring her to me, and my breath caught. “You’re beautiful,” I whispered, my voice hoarse with need.
Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t shy away. Instead, she took my shirt off and pressed her lips to my chest, trailing kisses over my skin, her hands skimming down to my waistband and then her other hand cupped me through my pants, squeezing. I hissed through my teeth, my hips jerking forward, barely holding myself back.
“Fuck,” I muttered, threading my fingers through her hair and pulling her back up for a kiss. My mouth claimed hers, desperate and possessive, and I backed her toward the narrow cot against the wall.
Our clothes fell away piece by piece, and when she was finally bare beneath me, I couldn’t stop myself from just… looking. From running my hands over her curves, memorizing every inch. She was soft and strong, delicate and fierce all at once. “Fucking perfect.” I breathed.
And she was mine. If only for tonight.
I pressed her into the mattress, trailing kisses down her throat, cupping her breast and rolling her nipple between my thumb and forefinger. She arched into my touch.
I caught her mouth in another kiss, this one slower, deeper, drawing out every gasp and moan from her lips as I guided her down onto the narrow cot. My hands traced the curve of her body, memorizing the soft give of her skin, the heat of her beneath me.
“Let me take care of you,” I murmured against her lips, my voice a low, rough promise.
She shivered, her breath catching as I slipped my hand between her thighs, fingers brushing against her heat. She was already wet, her hips arching into my touch, and it was all I could do not to lose control right then.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” I groaned, sliding a finger inside her, feeling her tighten around me. “So damn tight. So ready for me.”
Her hands fisted in the sheets, her lips parted on a soft moan. “Xaden—”
“Just relax,” I whispered, pressing kisses along her jaw, down her throat. “Let me feel you come apart on my fingers.”
I added another finger, my thumb circling her clit in slow, deliberate strokes. She gasped, her body trembling, hips rocking against my hand as I set a rhythm that had her spiraling higher.
“That’s it,” I murmured, voice rough with need. “Let go for me, freckles. Show me how good I make you feel.”
Her cry echoed off the walls as she shattered around me, her body tightening, her breath coming in short, broken gasps. I kept moving my fingers, drawing out her release until she was shaking beneath me.
When she finally stilled, her lashes fluttering as she met my gaze, there was something raw and open in her eyes that made my chest ache.
But I wasn’t done. Not yet.
She reached for me, her fingers fumbling at the waistband of my pants, her touch sending a jolt of electricity through me. I hissed through my teeth as she freed me from the confines, her hand wrapping around me with a confidence that sent a growl rumbling from deep in my chest.
“Shit,” I groaned, bracing one hand against the mattress as her touch tightened, stroked. “You’re going to kill me, freckles.”
Her lips curved into a wicked smile, and I couldn’t take it anymore.
I kissed her hard, biting at her lower lip as I pushed her back against the mattress. My body covered hers, my cock teasing against her entrance, slick and throbbing with need.
“I need you,” I said hoarsely, my forehead resting against hers. “I need to be inside you. Now.”
She nodded, breathless, her hands gripping my shoulders. I slid into her in one slow, aching thrust, the world narrowing to the heat and wetness of her, the way her body clenched around me.
“Fuck,” I groaned, barely holding back, every muscle in my body taut with restraint. “You feel so fucking good, freckles. So tight, so perfect.”
I tried to keep it slow, tried to savor the way she arched beneath me, the way her moans sent shivers down my spine. But she met every thrust with a roll of her hips, her legs wrapping tighter around me, her nails digging into my back.
“Xaden,” she gasped, her voice breaking. “Don’t stop. Please—”
I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.
I drove into her harder, deeper, losing any semblance of control. My shadows flickered at the edges of my vision, dark tendrils writhing like they were trying to crawl from my skin. I gritted my teeth, trying to hold them back, to keep myself grounded—but the tighter her body clenched around me, the higher her cries rose, the closer I came to completely shattering.
Her body trembled, her walls pulsing around me as her climax hit, and it was too much. The tension snapped, my release surging through me so violently I felt it in my bones.
My shadows burst free, writhing wildly in the air, dark and formless, shadows pulsing with every ragged breath I took. I collapsed against her, my body trembling, vision blurring, my cock still pulsing inside her as I came hard, deeper than I’d ever thought possible.
The shadows curled around us, licking at the walls, seeping into the cracks like living things, wild and untamed.
When the last shudder rippled through me, I forced myself to breathe, to pull back just enough to look down at her flushed, sated face. My pulse was still racing, my body still buzzing with the aftershocks.
I’d lost control. Completely. And the shadows were proof of it.
“I’ve never—” I rasped, my voice hoarse and unsteady. I shook my head, trying to steady my breathing. “I’ve never lost control like that before. Never.”
Her eyes fluttered open, dazed but curious. “With anyone?” I swallowed hard, pressing my forehead to hers, still gasping. “No. Never. Only you.” Her lips curved into a soft, satisfied smile, and I felt the weight of it settle deep in my chest.
She didn’t realize it yet—but she’d just seen a side of me no one else ever had. An she migh have ruined me for anyone else.

Chapter Text

Xaden

We lay there, limbs intertwined, as the adrenaline faded and the silence between us softened. “I shouldn’t have done this,” she whispered, but her fingers traced lazy patterns over my chest, her cheek pressed to my skin. “Neither should I,” I murmured, kissing the top of her head. And yet neither of us moved. We talked for hours—about her father, a scribe, and how she was training to follow in his footsteps. About my own father, dead because of the Apostasy, about my favourite hillside in Aretia. For the first time in years, I let myself be honest. With her. With a stranger. When her breathing slowed, her lashes fluttering against my skin, I felt something dangerous twist in my chest. I pulled her closer, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. And when we finally drifted into sleep, her body warm against mine, I let myself pretend—just for a moment—that there was no war, no blood, no destiny waiting for us at dawn. Just her. And me.

Violet

I woke to the faint sound of fabric rustling, my head heavy and my body deliciously sore. The air in the room was still warm with the scent of sweat and shadows and him. For a moment, I let myself drift there—in that hazy place where last night’s wild, desperate kisses still lingered on my lips. Then the memory of his hands on my skin made my stomach twist in a way that had nothing to do with guilt and everything to do with wanting more. But when I opened my eyes, he was already standing, half-dressed, his back to me, cloaked in shadows as he buttoned his shirt. A pang of disappointment tightened in my chest. I didn’t know what I’d expected. This was supposed to be a night, nothing more. A taste of rebellion before my mother locked me into the path she’d chosen for me. Still, the thought of him leaving—without a word, without another touch—made my throat close. I shifted, the blanket slipping off my bare shoulders. “You’re leaving?” His head turned just enough for me to see the profile of his face, the sharp line of his jaw, the shadowed look in his eyes. He hesitated. “Didn’t want to wake you.” I sat up, pulling my clothes back on, my heart beating a little too fast. “You could’ve at least said goodbye,” I murmured. He was silent for a moment, then sighed and leaned against the wall, waiting as I dressed. When I was done, I smoothed my hair, avoiding his eyes. I wasn’t ready for this to be over. We slipped out of the room, the hallway quiet except for the distant sounds of the waking city. We paused at the junction where our paths split—he to wherever he was going, me back toward the Citadel. I tried to smile, to make it light. “Guess this is goodbye,” I said, stepping back. But before I could turn, his hand caught my wrist, firm but gentle. He pulled me back against him, his free hand threading through my hair as he kissed me—hard, hungry, desperate. When he pulled back, his breath was ragged, his forehead resting against mine. “I’ll see you when I see you,” he whispered. A tremor ran through me. I forced a small, shaky smile. “I’ll see you when I see you.” And then, without another word, we turned away from each other and walked into the dawn.

***

I barely made it back to my room before the Citadel stirred awake. My hair was still tangled, my lips swollen from kisses I couldn’t stop remembering, my body aching in ways I’d never felt before. But none of that mattered when a knock rattled the door. I opened it to find the general’s aide,Colonel Aetos, his expression stiff. “Good Morning, Violet.” He tried to sound pleasant. Tried but there was something in his eyes, something like sadness? “The General requests your presence. Now.” My heart plummeted. The general. My mother. I followed him through the halls, nerves coiling tighter with every step. By the time we reached her office, my hands were trembling. She didn’t even look up when I entered. Lilith Sorrengail sat behind her massive desk, stacks of papers surrounding her, her dark hair pulled into a severe knot. “Sit,” she said curtly. I hesitated before obeying, perching on the edge of the chair across from her. “You’re not going into the Scribe Quadrant.” The words hit me like a slap. “What?” She finally looked up, her eyes as cold and sharp as steel. “You’re going into the Riders Quadrant. Effective immediately.” For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. “That’s impossible. Conscription Day is in six months. I haven’t trained. I’ve never even—” “Sorrengails are riders,” she cut me off, her voice like a blade. “You’ll adapt.” Adapt. Adapt? My pulse roared in my ears. “I’ll die,” I snapped, my voice cracking. “My bones—Mother, you know I’m fragile. You know what your illness did to me. How can you—” “Enough.” Her voice was low, dangerous. “You will not disgrace this family. You will not cower behind the Archive’s walls while your brother and sister bleed for this kingdom. You’ll stand where Sorrengails are meant to stand. On a dragon’s back.” Tears burned behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. “You’re signing my death warrant,” I whispered. Lilith’s expression didn’t change. “Better to die with honor than live in cowardice.” My breath hitched. My nails dug into my palms. And then I stood, shoving the chair back with a harsh scrape against the floor. “I hope you can live with yourself,” I said, my voice trembling with barely contained rage. I stormed out of her office, my head spinning, my heart a tangled mess of anger and terror and… heartbreak. Not because I was being forced into the Riders Quadrant—no, that wasn’t what shattered me. It was the realization that my mother—the woman who should’ve protected me—had practically signed my death certificate herself. I clenched my fists, forcing my breath to steady. And then, unbidden, his face flashed in my mind—dark eyes, wicked smile, rough voice whispering promises against my skin. I let out a soft, bitter laugh. “Guess I’ll see him when I see him… sooner than I thought.”

Chapter Text

Violet

Conscription day, six months later

I stood in line at the foot of the turret, the towering stone of Basgiath rising above me like the weight of a thousand expectations pressing down on my shoulders. The air was thick with the scent of stone and sweat, the low murmur of thousands of cadets buzzing like an electric current around me.

Mira stood by my side, her jaw set in that determined, protective way she always wore in moments like this. She’d braided my hair earlier, her hands steady and sure as she wove the strands tight against my scalp. The dragon-scale corset she’d given me hugged my ribs beneath my uniform, a silent shield between me and the danger ahead.

My heart thudded wildly as I glanced up at the turret and the thin, perilous path stretching into the sky—the parapet. My stomach churned.

I wasn’t supposed to be here.

I should’ve been safe in the Scribe Quadrant, tucked away behind books and ink, where no one expected me to risk my life. But that life was gone now, ripped away by my mother’s decree.

And the only person who made me feel even a fraction of courage was somewhere in the Riders Quadrant. If he was still alive.

I swallowed hard, my pulse quickening. I thought of Xaden—of his lips on mine, his breathless whisper against my ear. Of the way his shadows had wrapped around us in that dark, stolen night. Would I see him today? Or had the Riders Quadrant already taken him from me?

The line shifted forward. The bell chimed again—loud and unforgiving. It was eight o’clock. Sure enough, the crowd behind us had split into neat, anxious lines, each quadrant assembling for roll call.

“Focus,” Mira snapped, her voice sharp with worry. I whipped my head forward.

“This might sound harsh,” she said, her tone softening just a fraction, “but don’t seek friendships in there, Violet. Forge alliances.”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat and nodded. There were only two people left ahead of us in line—a woman with a full pack slung over her shoulder, her high cheekbones and oval face like renderings of Amari, the queen of the gods. Her dark brown hair was braided close to her scalp, the rows neat and tight against her skin.

Beside her was a broad-shouldered man with golden hair, his face pale with dread as a woman clung to his arm, her tears soaking his sleeve. His pack was massive, as if carrying every ounce of fear and hope he could squeeze into it.

I glanced past them toward the roll-keeping desk, my eyes widening. “Is he…?” I whispered.

Mira followed my gaze, then muttered a quiet curse. “A separatist’s kid? Yep. See that shimmering mark on his wrist? That’s a relic from the rebellion.”

I blinked. I knew that. I’d trailed my lips down one six months ago.

I’d heard of relics when a dragon chose to mark a bonded rider—symbols of power and honor, often shaped like the dragon itself. But these marks weren’t proud, swirling emblems. They were jagged slashes and lines, more like scars than a gift.

“A dragon did that?” I whispered, my voice tight with disbelief.

She nodded grimly. “Mom says General Melgren’s dragon did it to all of them when he executed their parents. Said it was a warning—nothing like punishing the kids to keep other parents from betraying the crown.”

I felt a shiver creep down my spine. It was cruel. Inhumane. But the first rule of Basgiath rang loud and clear in my mind: never question a dragon . They were as dangerous as they were majestic, and they didn’t hesitate to incinerate anyone who disrespected them.

I looked up at the tower again, my hands trembling. The parapet waited, stretching like a death sentence into the sky.

We paused at the doorway, just before the line curved toward the turret, the stone walls closing in like the weight of everything that was about to happen.

Mira turned to face me, her expression softening for just a moment, her hand brushing a stray lock of hair from my face.

“Don’t die, Violet,” she said quietly, a faint smile playing at her lips. “I’d hate to be an only child.”

A shaky laugh bubbled out of me, the weight of her words both breaking and mending my heart.

She grinned, her confidence wrapping around her like armor, and turned away. Her steps were steady as she sauntered past the gawking candidates, their whispers rising in her wake—whispers of exactly who she was and what she’d done.

And me? I was left standing there, the words echoing in my head as I stepped forward into the unknown.

And somewhere beyond it, he might be waiting too.

Xaden

I stood at the top of the turret, the wind tugging at my leathers, the chill biting deep into my skin. The parapet stretched before me—a narrow, treacherous path of slick stone and empty air—and below, the newest cadets gathered like lambs waiting for slaughter.

The marked ones. The soon-to-be riders. If they survived.

I scanned the line, my gaze sharp as I waited for the first of them to reach the parapet’s edge. I knew who I was watching for—Liam, my foster brother. One more person who understood what it meant to carry a legacy of rebellion and survive it.

But I wasn’t just waiting for Liam.

Sgaeyl’s presence brushed against my mind, sharp and impatient. ‘ You brood too much, shadowwielder.’

‘You would too if you were responsible for a hundred and seven lives’, I shot back silently.

‘They’ll either make it or they won’t. Worrying won’t change the odds.’

I exhaled slowly, pressing my thumb to the scar on my wrist—the relic mark left by General Melgren’s dragon burned it into me, punishment for my father’s rebellion. The memory of that day seared as sharply as the scars on my back, carved by my own guilt and the deal I’d struck to keep the others alive With Lilith Sorrengail. And a favor owed. And it had come due.

I scanned the crowd below again, my jaw tightening. Lilith Sorrengail’s favor—keep her daughter alive.

The youngest Sorrengail. The fragile one. The one who should’ve been safely buried in the Scribe Quadrant, far from blood and dragons. But now, thanks to her mother’s twisted idea of loyalty and legacy, she was down there. Somewhere. Preparing to cross a deathtrap no sane commander would send her through.

I didn’t even know what she looked like. Just that she was delicate. Breakable. And that she was now my responsibility.

I rolled my shoulders, tension rippling through me, and rubbed my temples as the cadets inched toward the parapet. Their emotions pressed against my mind—excitement, fear, hunger, bloodlust—a chaotic flood that threatened to breach my shields.

No one knew about my second signet. No one knew I was an intinnsic , able to sense the intentions of others. It was a secret I guarded as fiercely as my shadows, because it made me a weapon they couldn’t predict.

A scream shattered the air, high and desperate. One of the candidates—too slow, too afraid—tumbled from the parapet, his body disappearing into the void below.

I clenched my jaw, my hands curling into fists at my sides. Another death. Another wasted life in this brutal game of survival.

‘You hate this day ,’ Sgaeyl said, her tone almost sympathetic.

‘I do’, I admitted.

Because no matter how many cadets survived, no matter how many climbed the walls of Basgiath to claim their place in the Riders Quadrant—this day always smelled of blood and ash.

And now, somewhere down there, was the girl I was bound by honor—and by a favor—to protect.

“See you two on the other side!” Dylan called over his shoulder, his grin wide with bravado as he stepped onto the parapet, arms spread wide against the wind.

I barely glanced at him, my focus split between scanning the line and Sgaeyl’s voice pressing sharp into my mind. ‘ Stop brooding, shadowwielder.’

I rubbed my temple, feeling the tension coil tighter. “Ready for the next one, Riorson?” one of the other riders said, his voice cutting through the rain-lashed air.

I nodded absently, eyes scanning the crowd below, searching for—

Her.

I stiffened as the next cadet stepped forward. A girl. Small. Breakable.

“You ready for this, Sorrengail?” The world stopped.

I snapped my gaze to her, turning fully toward the voice that had haunted my memories for six months. My heart thundered, a sick mix of anticipation and dread, as I took in the sight of her—silver hair plastered to her scalp from the rain, braid trailing down her back, her leathers clinging to a body I’d memorized in the dark.

My breath seized in my chest.

No .

It couldn’t be. It was .

The girl from Chantara. The one who’d made me lose control of my shadows, who’d wrapped herself around me with whispered moans and trembling hands. The one who’d wrecked me for anyone else.

And she was a Sorrengail.

Her face tilted up to mine, her mouth parted, her shock clear. “Oh shit,” she whispered.

My pulse roared in my ears as I stepped toward her, my mind a blur of realization and denial and bitter anger. Sgaeyl’s voice rumbled through me, sharp and grating. ‘ She’s the one. Lilith’s daughter. The fragile one you’re supposed to protect.’

I wanted to reach for her. I wanted to crush her to me, to whisper that it would be fine. But I couldn’t.

Because this was Violet Sorrengail.

And in that instant, everything clicked into place. The name. The familiarity. The subtle hints I’d ignored.

Not just because of her mother—the cold, calculating general who had my father’s blood on her hands. No. It was because of Brennan.

Brennan Sorrengail, the brother who was supposed to be dead, who wasn’t. The brother who lived in Aretia, who fought alongside me, who trusted me. The brother who’d spoken of a little sister back at Basgiath.

Violet .

I cursed silently, the realization slamming into me like a punch to the gut. How the fuck had I not thought of it before? She’d said her name that night in Chantara. I whispered it against her lips, and I’d been so caught up in her touch, her taste, her fire, that I hadn’t made the connection.

I was supposed to keep her alive.

And now she was standing here, fragile and breakable and braver than anyone else on this tower.

“Your mother captured my father and oversaw his execution.”

Her gaze sharpened, her voice lashing back. “Your father killed my older brother. Seems like we’re even.”

I clenched my fists, my mind torn between rage and the memory of her breathless moans against my skin. “Hardly.”

I couldn’t stop looking at her. Couldn’t stop remembering how her lips had felt under mine, how her body had moved against me, the way her laugh had cracked open a part of me I thought I’d buried.

“Your sister is a rider. Guess that explains the leathers.”

“Guess so.” 

Her chin lifted, defiant and trembling, and gods help me, I wanted to kiss her again. To pull her close and promise her she’d make it across. But I couldn’t.

Because she was Lilith’s daughter. And I was her enemy.

My hands curled into fists, every muscle in my body screaming for restraint.

“You all right?” her friend—Rhiannon, was it?—asked, her gaze flicking between us.

I looked at her, trying to mask the storm churning inside me. “You’re friends?”

“We met on the stairs,” Rhiannon said, her voice steady despite the tension crackling in the air.

I glanced down, noting their mismatched shoes, and arched a brow, a bitter smile tugging at my lips. “Interesting.”

“Are you going to kill me?” Violet asked, her voice trembling but her chin lifting an inch higher, defiant to the end.

I couldn’t answer. Not truthfully. Not with the way her shock and devastation clawed at me through my shields. Her emotions battered against my intinnsic senses—hurt, betrayal, disbelief.

The sky cracked open, more heavy rain lashing against us in sheets as the wind howled.

A scream ripped through the air, sharp and gutting. We both turned in time to see Dylan slip, his hands scrabbling against the slick stone, his feet dangling over the void.

“Pull yourself up, Dylan!” Rhiannon shouted.

My pulse spiked, my hands tightening at my sides, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t leave her.

“Oh gods!” Violet gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as Dylan’s grip failed and he plummeted.

I didn’t flinch. I didn’t look away. My eyes stayed locked on her as the wind and rain stole his scream and her muffled cry.

Sgaeyl hissed in my mind. ‘ She’s weak. She’ll fall. She’s a Sorrengail and then she won’t be our problem anymore’

But I couldn’t tear my gaze from her. Couldn’t stop my shadows from writhing just beneath my skin.

“Why would I waste my energy killing you when the parapet will do it for me?” I said, the words slipping from my lips with a bitterness I didn’t entirely feel.

A wicked smile curved my lips. “Your turn.”

Chapter Text

Violet

I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. The name, the realization, slammed into me with the force of the storm raging above. Xaden Riorson . Fen Riorson’s son. The son of the great betrayer. My enemy.

I felt like I might cry. Or scream. Or both. The air felt too thin, my skin too tight, my heartbeat echoing louder than the thunder crashing around us.

I tried to school my features, to hide the way my stomach churned, but it was impossible under the weight of his glare. His face was a mask of pure loathing—hatred so palpable it made my skin crawl. And of course he hated me. Of course he did. My mother had captured his father and overseen his execution.

I should hate him, too. His father had killed Brennan. My brother. But all I could think about—the only thing racing through my mind—was that Xaden had been the only familiar thing in this entire nightmare. The only thing I’d looked forward to seeing here. And now he was going to kill me.

I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe the way he was looking at me, as if he’d forgotten every second our bodies had tangled together in the dark, as if he’d erased the memory of how I’d come undone beneath his hands, how he’d lost control because of me.

I will not die today. The words became my mantra, repeating over and over in my head as Xaden’s stare burned into me like a brand, as if his hatred alone could incinerate me. Even the rain pelting my skin couldn’t ease the heat—or the shiver of dread that jolted down my spine.

Dylan was dead. Just a name now, another soon-to-be stone in the endless graveyards that lined the roads to Basgiath, another warning to the ambitious cadets who thought they could survive this. I understood now—why Mira had warned me not to make friends.

Rhiannon gripped both sides of the opening in the turret, then looked over her shoulder at me. “I’ll wait for you on the other side,” she shouted over the storm. The fear in her eyes mirrored my own.

“I’ll see you on the other side.”

I nodded, somehow managing a grimace of a smile. She stepped out onto the parapet and began walking. I sent a silent prayer to Zihnal, the god of luck, even though I was sure his hands were full today.

“Name?” the rider at the edge asked as his partner struggled to keep the scroll dry beneath a cloak.

“Violet Sorrengail,” I answered, thunder cracking overhead, the sound almost comforting in its familiarity. I’d always loved storms—the way they illuminated and shadowed the books I curled up with. But this storm might just kill me.

I glanced down and saw Dylan’s and Rhiannon’s names already blurring where water met ink. It was the last time Dylan’s name would be written anywhere but his stone. There would be another roll at the end of the parapet to tally the dead for the scribes’ beloved statistics.

In another life, I’d have been the one recording the data.

“Sorrengail?” the rider looked up, brows rising. “As in General Sorrengail?”

“The same.”

Damn, that was already getting old. I knew it would only get worse. Everyone here would compare me to my mother, expect me to be some brilliant strategist like Brennan or a natural rider like Mira. Or they’d see me for what I was—nothing like any of them—and declare open season.

I placed my hands on either side of the turret opening, my fingers brushing over the wet stone. It was warm from the morning sun but rapidly cooling, slick with rain but not dangerously so. Ahead, Rhiannon was already a quarter of the way across, her figure blurring into the rain.

“I thought she only had one daughter?” the other rider muttered, angling the cloak against another gust of wind.

“I get that a lot.”

In through my nose, out through my mouth, I forced my breathing to calm. My heart pounded a frantic rhythm, but I couldn’t let panic win. If I panicked, I’d die. If I slipped, I’d die. If I—

Oh, fuck it. There was nothing more I could do to prepare.

I stepped onto the parapet, gripping the stone wall as another gust knocked me sideways against the turret’s opening.

“And you think you’ll be able to ride?” a candidate behind me jeered. “Some Sorrengail, with that kind of balance. I pity whatever wing you end up in.”

I straightened, yanking my pack straps tighter.

“Name?” the rider asked again, but I knew he wasn’t talking to me.

“Jack Barlowe,” the candidate behind me answered. “Remember the name. I’m going to be a wingleader one day.” His arrogance dripped from every syllable.

“You’d better get going, Sorrengail,” Xaden’s voice cut through the storm, sharp and commanding. I turned, meeting his glare—and for a heartbeat, I saw it. His eyes softened, an expression of concern, maybe even…affection. It was gone in an instant, replaced by that mask of cold hatred.

“Unless you need a little motivation?”

Jack lunged forward, his hands raised.

Holy shit. He was going to shove me off.

Fear shot through me, raw and blinding, and I moved without thinking, stepping onto the parapet, leaving the safety of the turret behind.

There was no going back now.

Xaden

The last of the candidates crossed the parapet, soaked to the bone and shaking, but alive. Eleven of the marked ones made it, including Liam. My shoulders loosened a fraction as I caught sight of him—broad-shouldered and grinning like a madman, his relief palpable. My chest tightened. I hadn’t realized how much I’d needed to see him, to confirm he was here, alive, ready to fight beside me again.

He was the last one to cross. I clapped him on the back, exchanging a quick nod before he went his way. He made it across in no time and I felt a little tension leave my body. 

Now I’m making my way back toward the Riders Quadrant. The storm was finally beginning to ease, though the rain still slicked the stone beneath my boots. I couldn’t help but think if Lilith Sorrengail had something to do with it. But if she did you would’ve thought that she eased the storm when her own daughter crossed the parapet.

Garrick was waiting for me at the edge of the courtyard, leaning against the wall with a shit-eating grin.

“So. Violet Sorrengail, huh?” he drawled, eyes glittering with amusement.

I shot him a look that should’ve shut him up. It didn’t.

“I can’t believe you fucked the General’s daughter,” he added with a low chuckle.

I clenched my jaw, the muscles ticking, but said nothing.

Garrick tilted his head, his smirk widening. “What’s the matter? Realized that’s a whole new level of revenge? Or are you just mad you didn’t know who she was before you fell for her pretty little lies?”

“She wasn’t a lie,” I said quietly, the words slipping out before I could stop them. “She was just… her.”

The smirk faded a little, but only because Garrick was already onto his next topic. “Speaking of the princess of the parapet—did you hear what she pulled with Barlowe?”

I frowned. “What?”

“Courtyard, right after the crossing,” Garrick said, laughter bubbling in his throat. “Two riders waiting there with me and Jack Barlowe comes storming in behind her, mad as hell. Violet pulls a dagger on him. Puts it right to his balls .”

I stopped in my tracks, a slow grin curling at the edges of my lips despite myself.

Garrick grinned wider. “I swear to you. She recited regs about not harming another cadet during formation, had the guy trapped with a dagger right there . Everyone watching. Even I couldn’t keep a straight face. Barlowe was so red he looked like he’d pop a vessel.”

A laugh rumbled in my chest, low and quiet. My pride was impossible to hide. Of course she would pull something like that.

“She’s small, sure,” Garrick continued, “but she’s got guts. I’ll give her that.”

I forced my expression into something neutral, but I couldn’t stop the faint, proud smile tugging at my lips.

She was small —but fierce. Strong. Braver than anyone expected. And whether I liked it or not, a part of me couldn’t help but admire her, even as I fought the burning knowledge of who she was and what that meant for me.

Garrick and I made our way across the courtyard, the hum of voices rising around us as cadets gathered for the official welcome into the Riders Quadrant. The stone beneath my boots was slick with rain, but the storm was beginning to fade, leaving only a cool drizzle.

My mind was still tangled in thoughts of Violet—how she’d looked when she crossed the parapet, the defiance in her eyes, the strength in her trembling frame. And then, just as we neared the dais, movement caught my attention.

My gaze snapped toward the door leading to the dorms.

Violet.

She slipped out with Dain Aetos, the squad leader, his hand still clasping hers as if they’d just finished a private conversation. He leaned in, murmuring something too low for me to catch, then squeezed her hand before turning to walk in the opposite direction.

A sharp, unwelcome sensation twisted in my gut. Jealousy?

No. It couldn’t be that. I had no right to feel this way. She was the daughter of the woman who’d sentenced my father to death. The girl I was supposed to protect only because of an obligation, a favor. The girl I was supposed to hate.

But the image of her standing close to Dain, the casual intimacy of his hand on hers, sent a surge of bitter heat through my veins.

Garrick noticed, of course. His grin widened as he followed my line of sight.

“Looks like Sorrengail’s got herself a bodyguard,” he drawled, nudging me with his elbow.

I gritted my teeth, forcing my expression into something neutral. “It’s none of my business.”

‘You’re sulking, shadowwielder’ , Sgaeyl teased in my mind, her voice dripping with amusement. ‘ Jealousy is a dangerous distraction.’

‘I’m not jealous.’

‘Oh, really?’ She purred, her mental voice a wicked caress. ‘ Then why are you imagining all the ways you could rip his hand off her and then off his body?’

I clenched my fists, exhaling slowly through my nose. He’s her squad leader. It’s probably nothing.

But I couldn’t stop the images from flashing through my mind—of what might have happened behind those doors, of what Dain’s hands might have done. I knew his reputation. Last year, he’d fucked Amber Mavis, his squad leader at the time. Fraternization in chain of command wasn’t unheard of, even if it was frowned upon.

Garrick’s laugh rumbled beside me. “You’re fucked, Riorson. Absolutely fucked.”

I shot him a glare, but he just shook his head, still grinning.

“Relax,” he said, his tone laced with amusement. “Aetos has been General Sorrengail’s aide for years. They probably know each other from childhood. He’s always had a soft spot for her family.”

That did little to ease the tight knot in my chest.

“Still,” Garrick added, his smirk widening, “I can’t believe you’re jealous. Of Dain, of all people.”

“I’m not jealous,” I snapped, though the words rang hollow even in my own ears.

Garrick laughed outright, clapping me on the back before peeling off to join the formation of riders. “Keep telling yourself that.”

I ground my teeth and turned toward the dais, shoving my hands into my pockets as I made my way to join the other Wingleaders. But even as I climbed the steps, my mind was still caught on the image of her and Dain, the bitter twist of jealousy settling deep in my gut.

***

The rain had stopped, leaving the air thick with humidity and the scent of wet stone clinging to the walls of my room. I leaned against the desk, arms crossed, watching as Garrick sprawled in the chair across from me, Bodhi lounged against the wall, Imogen sat sharp and silent by the door, and Liam—Liam was here because I’d made an exception.

Marked ones weren’t supposed to gather in groups larger than three. It was a rule meant to keep us divided. Keep us manageable. But I didn’t give a shit. Liam was back, and I wasn’t about to send him away.

“We met with a drift of Gryphon fliers,” I said, keeping my tone low and even. “The drop went off without a hitch.”

Garrick snorted. “No thanks to you.”

I shot him a look, my glare sharp enough to silence a lesser man.

He just smirked, lounging back. “C’mon, don’t look at me like that. You know Cat was practically drooling to see you.”

My jaw tensed. “Drop it, Garrick.” My voice dipped, low and dangerous.

Bodhi coughed, covering a laugh, and Liam grinned, his amusement barely concealed.

The silence hung heavy for a moment, broken only by the distant echo of a bell signaling curfew approaching.

Garrick arched a brow. “But the weapons drop isn’t the only news today, is it?”

I shot him another warning look, but I wasn’t going to avoid it. They deserved to know.

“Violet Sorrengail is here,” I said, my voice hard. “In the Riders Quadrant.”

Imogen’s eyes snapped to mine, suspicion narrowing her gaze. “She was supposed to be a Scribe.”

“She was,” I confirmed.

Bodhi shook his head slowly. “So what the fuck is she doing here? You really think her mother put her in for no reason? Without the training?”

I hesitated. The words clawed at my throat, but I forced them out. “Because I owe Lilith Sorrengail a favor.”

Imogen stiffened, her hand tightening on the hilt of her knife. “You what?”

I nodded once, my jaw tight. “When she carved the responsibility for the 107 marked ones into my back, I promised her I’d keep her daughter alive. That’s the favor.”

Bodhi’s eyes widened, hurt flickering behind his usual mask of indifference. “You didn’t tell us.”

“I didn’t think I needed to,” I said quietly. “I didn’t think she’d actually send Violet here.”

Liam spoke for the first time, his voice calm and steady. “She’s here now. Whether you like it or not, we need to figure out what this means. For all of us.”

Garrick grinned, his voice laced with sarcasm. “Seems like the General’s daughter is full of surprises, huh?”

I clenched my jaw, exhaling sharply. “I’ll come up with something. We’ll handle it.”

Imogen gave me a long, searching look before nodding and slipping out the door. Bodhi followed, murmuring a quiet goodnight. Liam clapped my shoulder, a silent reassurance, before disappearing into the hall. Garrick lingered, smirking.

“You’re so fucked,” he said softly, and then he was gone.

The door clicked shut behind them, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I dragged a hand through my hair, the weight of the day pressing down hard. I couldn’t believe she was here. Couldn’t believe I was even thinking about her.

Dain. I’d seen them together, slipping out of the dorms, his hand wrapped around hers. I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t even think about it. But the image of them together—Dain, with his smug fucking smile—made my blood boil.

She’s your enemy.

She’s the daughter of the woman who murdered your father.

She’s off-limits.

Sgaeyl’s voice slithered into my mind, her tone sharp with mocking amusement. ‘ Kill her. It would spare you a lot of trouble and…feelings.’

The very thought made my stomach turn. Even the idea of hurting her was enough to make me feel sick.

I pressed my fists into the edge of the desk, willing the thoughts away, but her face—her flushed cheeks, her parted lips, her breathless moans—flashed behind my eyes, haunting and inescapable.

I was so fucked. Eventually, I crawled into bed, exhaustion weighing down my limbs. But sleep was no refuge. In my dreams, she was there. Violet. Beneath me. Arching into my touch. Whispering my name.

Chapter Text

Xaden

The rotunda might be the most beautiful piece of architecture in all of Basgiath. Three stories tall, with polished marble floors that reflected the morning light filtering through the domed glass ceiling above. Two massive arched doors led to the academic wing on the left, matched by doors to the dorms on the right. Four more doorways rose up a half-dozen steps at the front, opening into the gathering hall. Six towering marble pillars—each one carved into a dragon snarling down from the ceiling—framed the space in shimmering shades of red, green, brown, orange, blue, and black.

A show of grandeur, meant to impress. Meant to remind cadets just how small they were compared to the power Basgiath wielded.

I stood near the top of the steps, my arms crossed over my chest, watching the slow trickle of cadets crossing the rotunda, their voices a low hum beneath the hollow echo of footsteps. The sleeves of my uniform were rolled up, shadows of my relic trailing over my arm for everyone to see. A third-year stood next to me, trying to start a conversation, but I ignored him completely.

My attention was elsewhere.

It was on her.

I spotted her weaving through the crowd, her head down as if she could disappear into the marble. My gut twisted. I should look away. Should let her pass. But my gaze locked on her like a predator tracking prey.

Violet Sorrengail.

The girl who had haunted my thoughts for six long months. The girl I was supposed to protect—the daughter of the woman I should hate more than anyone. And the girl whose lips I couldn’t stop remembering.

I tracked her movements as she crossed the center of the rotunda, my heart thudding a little too hard for comfort. She paused, sensing me—her spine stiffening, her head snapping up.

Our eyes locked across the distance.

The air between us was thick with everything unsaid. With the weight of betrayal and desire and memories I couldn’t afford to indulge.

Then, Dain Aetos appeared behind her. He stepped out from behind a pillar, his hand brushing her arm, leaning in just a fraction too close. The sight twisted something dark and raw in my chest, a sharp, acidic jealousy that made my hands curl into fists.

My lips curled into a sneer before I could stop myself. “I already knew your parents are tight,” I called out, my voice echoing across the marble. “But do you two have to be so fucking obvious?”

A few cadets turned to look, their curiosity sparking.

“Let me guess,” I continued, my tone sharpened by something I didn’t want to name. “Childhood friends? First loves, even?”

I saw the way she flinched, the way Dain’s hand hovered just a little too long on her arm.

Pathetic.

I descended the steps slowly, my boots echoing against the marble. My expression was carefully controlled, but every step closer felt like I was walking toward the edge of a cliff.

They muttered something to each other and Violet scurried away.

I waited until she disappeared from sight before stepping closer to Dain, my voice low and vicious. “You should be more careful about showing your affections, Aetos. This isn’t the Archives. And this isn’t Amber Mavis.”

His face tightened, color flushing high on his cheeks. “That was none of your business, Riorson.”

My smile was sharp and humorless. “Everything that happens around here is my business. You’d do well to remember that.”

He ground his teeth, a muscle ticking in his jaw, but finally muttered through clenched teeth, “Yes, Wingleader.”

I gave him one last, scathing look before turning on my heel and walking away, the echo of his reluctant submission trailing after me.

***

The battle brief was a fucking joke. The lies were thick enough to choke on, a thin veil of misdirection meant to hide the real threat. They were still insisting the attacks came from drifts of gryphon riders, but I knew better. We all did. The Venin were growing bolder, and war was inevitable.

Garrick walked beside me as we crossed the yard to the gym, the weight of the coming storm pressing down on my shoulders. I should’ve been focused, should’ve been planning—but all I could think about was her.

Violet Sorrengail.

Her questions during the brief were sharp, the kind that showed she wasn’t just a sheltered general’s daughter. Of course she was smart. She was supposed to be a scribe. But she was also here now—here because of her mother.

The battle brief was a fucking joke. The lies were thick enough to choke on, a thin veil of misdirection meant to hide the real threat. They were still insisting the attacks came from drifts of gryphon riders, but I knew better. We all did. The Venin were growing bolder, and war was inevitable.

Garrick walked beside me as we crossed the yard to the gym, the weight of the coming storm pressing down on my shoulders. I should’ve been focused, should’ve been planning—but all I could think about was her.

Violet Sorrengail.

Her questions during the brief were sharp, the kind that showed she wasn’t just a sheltered general’s daughter. Of course she was smart. She was supposed to be a scribe. But she was also here now—here because of her mother, and because of me.

And I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Couldn’t stop worrying about her. Couldn’t stop wanting her.

We stepped into the gym, the scent of sweat and leather thick in the air, the clang of weapons and grunts of exertion echoing off the walls. I scanned the room automatically, my gaze landing on her instantly.

She was with her squad—Fourth Wing. I’d moved her there myself, shifting her from Second into my wing. Everyone thought I’d done it to kill her, to make her life hell, but the truth was far more complicated. I’d done it to keep her safe.

Even though I should hate her.

I watched her from across the room as she stood at the edge of the mat, her eyes tracking her squadmates as they sparred. She was focused, calculating, her mind working through strategies even as her body remained still.

And my gaze slipped lower.

The curve of her hips, the tight stretch of her leathers, the way her braid swung as she tilted her head—every detail burned into my memory, every inch of her a vivid echo of that night in Chandra.

I felt my cock harden, thick and insistent against my thigh. I clenched my jaw, shifting my weight, trying to force the image from my mind—the taste of her lips, the sound of her moans, the way she’d shattered beneath my touch.

“Stop staring,” Garrick murmured beside me, his voice low and amused.

I leveled him with a death glare, my fists tightening at my sides. “Shut the fuck up,” I growled under my breath.

Garrick laughed quietly but didn’t push further, sensing the line I was toeing.

I dragged my gaze away from her, but it was a losing battle. Even with my shields up, even with my focus locked on the threat of war, the pull of her was impossible to ignore.

And I hated myself for it.

Matches resumed on the mat and I tried my best to look at everything besides Violet.

Jack Barlowe was an insufferable asshole, but he was also dangerous. My jaw tightened as I watched him on the mat, his thick arms locked in a headlock around a smaller first-year. The kid wasn’t a threat, but Jack yanked his arms tighter anyway, showing off for the crowd like the sadistic bastard he was.

“That guy is such an ass—” Rhiannon muttered nearby, her voice low.

The sickening crack of bones breaking echoed through the gym, and the first-year went limp in Barlowe’s hold. My fists clenched at my sides as Jack let the body drop to the mat like it was a sack of discarded meat.

“What did I say?” the instructor roared, charging onto the mat. “You broke his damned neck!”

Jack shrugged, his voice dripping with false innocence. “How was I supposed to know his neck was that weak?”

I ground my teeth, my knuckles whitening. Another dead. Another psycho let loose in the Quadrant. It would’ve been better if it had gone the other way around.

I forced my gaze elsewhere, determined not to look. But it was like gravity, an inevitable pull I couldn’t resist. My eyes found her.

Violet stood at the edge of the mat, her attention fixed on Rhiannon’s match, the crease between her brows deepening with each blow. She was trying to stay calm, to analyze, to be strong—but I could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her hands twitched at her sides, as if she was fighting the urge to step in.

Rhiannon was fast, quick-footed and lethal

“Do you yield?” Rhiannon asked the first-year guy when she pinned him to the mat, her hand hovering above his throat.

“No!” he snapped, his legs hooking around hers, slamming her to her back.

But Rhiannon rolled, gaining her feet with ease and twisting him into the same position, this time with her boot planted firmly against his neck.

“I don’t know, Tynan, you might want to yield,” Dain called out with a grin from the sidelines.

“Fuck off, Aetos!” Tynan snapped, his words cutting off into a garbled choke as Rhiannon pressed her boot harder against his throat. His face turned a blotchy, mottled red, and he struggled uselessly against her hold.

“He yields,” Emetterio called, stepping closer to break the match. Rhiannon stepped back, offering Tynan a hand, which he took reluctantly.

Emetterio’s gaze swept the crowd, then pointed sharply at Imogen. “You.”

Then his finger swung to Violet.

“And you.”

My pulse spiked, a dangerous cocktail of dread and possessiveness tightening my chest. Fuck. 

Imogen squared off against Violet, scraping something off the side of her boot as her pale green eyes narrowed into slits. Garrick muttered a quiet curse beside me.

“Imogen’s unpredictable,” he said, low enough only I could hear. “But she knows better than to kill the general’s daughter. She knows if she does, you’re dead too.”

I didn’t respond. My gaze was locked on Violet as she stood her ground, hands loose at her sides, her chin tilted defiantly.

“You really should dye your hair if you don’t want everyone to know who your mother is,” Imogen sneered. “You’re the only silver-haired freak in the quadrant.”

“Never said I cared if everyone knows who my mother is,” Violet replied, circling with a fluid grace that sent something hot and possessive through my chest. “I am proud of her service to protect our kingdom—from enemies both without and within.”

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth, even as I felt the sharp crackle of tension in the air. Imogen’s jaw tightened at the dig, and a bubble of twisted pride rose in my gut. Marked ones hated her because of her mother. Fine. Hate her. But damn if she wasn’t brave.

“You bitch,” Imogen spat, lunging forward with a wild swing.

I tensed, muscles coiling, but Violet sidestepped smoothly, spinning away with her hands raised. The two circled, Violet’s movements light, precise, her strikes sharp and deliberate. For a moment, I dared to think she might hold her own.

But then Imogen’s foot lashed out, missing Violet’s head, dropping her to the ground, and sweeping Violet’s legs out from under her.

Violet hit the mat hard, the breath punched from her lungs. Imogen was on her in a flash, her movements too fast, too vicious.

“You can’t use your powers in here, Imogen!” Dain shouted from the sidelines.

My fists clenched, shadows rippling along my skin in response. Imogen’s eyes gleamed with something too close to murder. She hovered above Violet, a glint of steel flashing. For a heartbeat, time froze.

The dagger slid back into its sheath.

I exhaled a shaky breath, tension snapping inside me, but Violet didn’t stay down. She lashed out with her fist, slamming it into Imogen’s cheek and rolling free. My pulse thundered as they both scrambled to their feet, circling, stalking.

“What kind of armor is that?” Imogen demanded, her voice tight.

“Mine,” Violet snapped, her breathing ragged but her spirit unyielding.

Imogen charged, her movements a blur, and my stomach twisted. “Imogen!” Emetterio’s voice cracked through the gym. “Do it again, and I’ll—”

Violet misstepped, Imogen taking her down with brutal force. Violet’s face hit the mat, her cry muffled as Imogen twisted her arm behind her back.

“Yield!” Imogen hissed, her voice vicious.

Violet’s defiance was admirable. Stupid, but admirable. “No!” she gasped, her voice breaking.

“Yield, Violet!” Dain shouted, his panic cutting through the air.

“Yield!” Imogen demanded, pulling harder, her knee digging into Violet’s spine.

My shadows surged, dark ripples licking along my skin. I was moving before I realized it, but Garrick’s hand clamped down on my shoulder, holding me back.

“Don’t,” he said sharply. “You can’t.” I felt the rage coiling tighter, saw the raw terror in Violet’s eyes as her shoulder popped—heard the sickening crack of bone.

“She yields,” Emetterio said, stepping in. “That’s enough.”

Imogen released her, stepping back with a huff of frustration. Violet collapsed forward, her breathing shallow, her face pale and tight with pain.

For a split second, I wanted nothing more than to scoop her up, to carry her straight to the infirmary myself, to run my hands over her and swear she’d be fine. But I couldn’t.

I had to watch as Dain—fucking Aetos—ran to her, his hands gentle as he gathered her up, his panic obvious. My fists clenched, shadows whispering at my skin as I forced myself to stay rooted in place.

I couldn’t show them. I couldn’t let them see how much I cared. But gods, it was killing me.

The gym slowly emptied, the murmurs fading into silence as cadets filed out, leaving only the scent of sweat and blood hanging heavy in the air. I waited, tension still coiled beneath my skin, my thoughts spinning.

When the last of them left, I stalked after Imogen. She was halfway down the hall, her steps sharp and stubborn, when I caught up to her.

Without thinking, I grabbed her arm and spun her, pushing her back against the cold stone wall. Not aggressive, but firm. Dangerous.

“What the fuck was that?” I hissed, my voice low and sharp. My hands pressed against the wall on either side of her, caging her in.

Her pale green eyes narrowed. “She said my parents and sister deserved to die for what they did. You heard her. Her mother murdered my family.”

“That’s not an excuse, Imogen,” Garrick cut in, stepping up beside me. His voice was hard but calmer, the voice of reason. “We don’t punish kids for their parents’ crimes. That’s not who we are.”

Imogen’s jaw tightened. “She’s not just a kid. She’s a Sorrengail. 

Bodhi, ever quiet but watching everything, stepped closer. His voice was calm but carried weight. “If you’d killed her—if she’d died—do you think Lilith Sorrengail would’ve let Xaden live? He’s bound by a deal with her, Imogen. You kill her, and he dies too.”

Imogen froze, her eyes widening, the weight of realization crashing into her. Guilt flickered across her face, her posture slumping.

“I—I didn’t think—” she stammered, her voice breaking.

“Exactly,” I snapped, my voice low and dangerous. I stepped back just enough to give her space, but my glare stayed fixed on her. “It’s not happening again.”

She swallowed, her cheeks flushing red. “It won’t,” she whispered.

I nodded once, sharp and cold, then stepped back fully. Garrick, Bodhi, and Imogen exchanged glances before drifting off down the hall, leaving me alone in the silence.

I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling a shaky breath. My shadows curled at the edges of my vision, restless and agitated.

And all I could see was Violet’s face—pale, in pain, her body crumpling under Imogen’s assault.

This wasn’t over.

Not by a long shot.

Chapter Text

Violet

Dain carried me to the Healer’s Quadrant, muttering under his breath. Winifred, sharp-eyed and quick-handed, was already waiting.

She and her husband, Nolan had  mended me countless times over the years, her voice gruff but comforting.  Nolon’s cool touch mended the torn ligaments and shattered bones. Dain kept protesting, but I shut him down. I was a rider now. Whether I liked it or not.

After what felt like hours, I was cleared to return to the barracks. My shoulder ached, but at least I could move it, thanks to the mender’s work. I was halfway to the first-year barracks, lost in thought and exhaustion, when a shadow slipped from the stone wall.

Xaden.

He stepped into the narrow corridor, his broad frame blocking the way ahead, his presence sharp and dark as ever.

It was the first ti me we were alone since I’d entered the Riders Quadrant.

For a heartbeat, we just stood there, his gaze raking over me, slow and deliberate, like he was checking for injuries. My pulse jumped, my breath catching in my throat.

“Are you going to kill me?” I asked, my voice quiet, trembling.

He didn’t answer, just stood there, a shadow against the corridor wall, his unreadable black eyes locked on mine. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating.

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, a wild, uneven rhythm I couldn’t control. His gaze didn’t move, didn’t flicker. It was like he was memorizing every inch of me, deciding what piece he would carve away first.

We stared at each other, the weight of everything between us—his hatred, my fear, the unspeakable pull we both fought—tightening until it became unbearable.

“Well?” I snapped, my voice cracking under the pressure. “Say something.”

He exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening, the line of his throat shifting as he swallowed down whatever war raged inside him. “You’re not worth the effort.” His tone was cold, clipped, meant to wound. But his gaze softened—just for a flicker, just long enough for me to see the crack in his armor. Like he regretted it the second the words left his mouth.

Anger surged in me, hot and blinding. “Fine. Then move.”

I tried to step past him, my shoulder brushing his chest, but his hand shot out, wrapping around my uninjured arm. His grip was firm, grounding me, but not cruel. He tugged me closer, until there was barely an inch of space between us. His breath was warm against my cheek, his scent dizzying, his body a wall of heat and tension.

“You okay?” he murmured, the question so soft it cracked something inside me.

I froze, confused by the shift, by the tenderness in his voice, by the way his thumb brushed over the sensitive skin of my wrist. My pulse stuttered wildly, caught between fight and surrender.

“I—” My voice broke, and I had to swallow to find it again. “What do you want?” I whispered, barely able to force the words past the lump in my throat.

For a long moment, he said nothing. His gaze locked on mine, dark and conflicted, the war inside him raging silently behind those obsidian eyes. I could see the tension in his jaw, the way his hand trembled just slightly against my skin, as if he was holding himself back with everything he had.

“Anyone else,” he said at last, his voice rough and low, thick with something I couldn’t name. “I want us to be anyone else.”

The rawness in his voice undid me. My breath hitched, and I felt the burn of tears at the back of my eyes, threatening to spill.

For a moment, I stood there, caught in his pull, feeling the thrum of his pulse against my skin. His hand lifted, hesitated, then brushed a strand of hair back behind my ear, his fingers lingering against my cheek.

I wanted to lean into his touch, to close my eyes and forget the world, but I couldn’t.

I reached up, gently taking his hand in mine, squeezing it once, a silent echo of his regret and my own.

“Me too,” I whispered, my voice barely audible as I pulled his hand from my face. My throat ached, my chest tight, but I forced myself to step back, to turn away.

I left him there, standing in the shadows.

My steps were slow and unsteady as I left Xaden behind, my mind a tangled mess of conflicting thoughts and feelings.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the way his thumb had brushed over my cheek, the softness in his voice when he’d asked if I was okay. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to hate me. I was supposed to hate him.

But all I could think about was turning around, marching back into that shadowed corridor, and grabbing him by the front of his shirt. I wanted to kiss him, pull him into a darkened room, feel the press of his body against mine, his hands tracing every inch of me, his mouth on my skin.

The memory of his breath against my ear, his lips whispering those soft, dangerous words— “I want us to be anyone else” —sent a shiver down my spine.

I wanted him. I wanted the fire, the connection we’d shared that night, the way he’d made me feel like the world had fallen away. I wanted to lose myself in him.

But I couldn’t.

I pressed my lips together, shaking my head as if I could shake him loose from my thoughts. My body ached, my shoulder throbbing, but the worst ache was somewhere deeper, hollow and desperate.

I shoved the thoughts down, forced myself to focus on the path ahead as the first-year barracks loomed in the distance.

I made it back to the barracks, my arm aching with every step. Rhiannon jumped off her bed, relief in her eyes. “You’re here!”

“I’m here,” I said with a tired smile. “Already down one shirt, but I’m here.”

“You can get another at central issue tomorrow.” She glanced at my sling, hesitating, before sitting back on her bunk. I joined her on mine.

“How bad is it?”

“It’ll hurt for a few days, but I’ll be fine if I keep it immobilized. I’ll be healed before the on-mat challenges start.”

“I’ll help you get ready,” she promised, her mouth quirking into a wry smile. “You’re the only friend I have in here. I’d rather you didn’t die when it gets real.”

“I’ll try my best not to.” I smiled despite the pain.

“And I’ll help you with history,” she added.

I braced my good hand under my pillow, feeling something tucked there. A small journal with a folded note on top. Mira’s handwriting.

I opened it, my throat tightening.

Violet, I stayed long enough to read the rolls this morning, and you aren’t on them, thank gods. I can’t stay—I’m needed with my wing, and they wouldn’t let me see you anyway. I bribed a scribe to sneak this into your bunk. I hope you know how proud I am to be your sister. Brennan wrote this the summer before I entered the quadrant. It saved me, and it can save you too. I added my own bits of hard-earned wisdom, but mostly it’s his. He’d want you to have it. He’d want you to live. Love, Mira.

I swallowed hard.

“What is it?” Rhiannon asked.

“My brother’s.” The words barely made it past my lips. I flipped open the journal, seeing the bold strokes of Brennan’s handwriting—familiar, aching, and real.

Mira, you’re a Sorrengail, so you’ll survive. Maybe not as spectacularly as I have, but we can’t all live up to my standards. This is everything I’ve learned. Keep it safe. Keep it hidden. You have to live, because Violet is watching. You can’t let her see you fall. Brennan.

Tears pricked my eyes, but I blinked them back. “Just his journal,” I said quietly, thumbing through the pages, hearing his voice in my mind. Damn, I missed him.

“He died five years ago,” I added softly.

Rhiannon leaned in. “We don’t always burn everything. Sometimes it’s nice to have something.”

“Yeah,” I whispered.

She sat back, opening her history book, and I fell into Brennan’s words.

You survived the parapet. Good. Be observant the next few days. Don’t draw attention. I’ve sketched a map of the classrooms and where instructors meet. The instructors decide matchups a week before. If you can get to those lists, you’ll know your opponents in advance. Prepare.

Hope sparked in my chest. Two weeks before challenges began. If I knew who I was up against, I could plan, control the outcome.

A slow smile curved my lips. I could survive.

***

The Iakobos River rushed with summer runoff, fast and deadly, and I could still hear the echo of the first-year’s screams as he slipped into the current yesterday. Since the parapet, our squad was the only one in the quadrant not to lose anyone—so far.

Tightening the strap of my satchel over my sling, I crept closer to the river, eyes scanning the line of ancient oaks for the vine I knew would be ready soon. Fonilee berries—unripe, they were poisonous, exactly the kind of edge I needed for the challenges coming next week.

I climbed the tree by moonlight and muscle memory, the pain in my shoulder fading to a dull ache. The vine was there, curling deceptively up the trunk. Perfect. I plucked just enough berries to fill a vial, tucking it away with a quiet sigh of relief.

Almost down the tree, a flicker of movement caught my eye below. My breath hitched. Two figures in black cloaks walked beneath the branches, and my heart stuttered painfully as the smaller one lowered her hood.

Imogen. My pulse raced. The second figure pulled back his hood, and the air left my lungs.

Xaden Riorson.

My throat tightened, panic clawing at me. He’s here. And I’m here. Alone.

I flattened myself against the trunk, heart pounding so loud I was sure they could hear it over the river. I wanted to hate him. I wanted to be furious at the way he haunted my thoughts, the way he made me feel things I shouldn’t—like how his touch had lingered when he brushed my hair back, the way his voice had softened when he’d asked if I was okay.

And now, seeing him here, dressed in black, meeting in secret, it hit me all over again. I can’t trust him. No matter what my heart says, I can’t forget what he is—or what he’s supposed to be.

More figures appeared—nearly two dozen riders, dressed like shadows, marked like rebels. My pulse roared in my ears. They’re not supposed to gather like this. It’s a capital offense.

I stayed hidden in the shadows, pressing deeper into the tree as they shook hands, exchanged quiet words. My mind spun. Was this a secret meeting? A rebellion plot? Was Xaden the one pulling the strings—or just another marked one desperate for revenge?

I should climb down, I should run, I should tell Dain—should do anything except stay frozen here, watching him from the shadows like a coward. But I couldn’t move.

Couldn’t tear my eyes away from him.

I stayed hidden, pressing closer to the trunk, heart pounding as I climbed down, branch by branch, testing each one before shifting my weight. Their voices blurred under the rush of the river until I was almost low enough to catch them.

A tall, broad-shouldered third-year near Xaden was the loudest. “We’ve already lost Sutherland and Luperco,” he said, though I couldn’t make out the reply.

Closer. My breath came shallow and fast. I was near enough for them to spot me if anyone glanced up—anyone except Xaden, whose back was turned.

“Like it or not, we’re going to have to stick together if you want to survive until graduation,” Imogen said. I bit back a surge of annoyance. The urge to kick her from this tree was strong, but I wasn’t that reckless.

“And if they find out we’re meeting?” a first-year girl asked nervously.

“We’ve done this for two years and they’ve never found out,” Xaden said, his voice cool, controlled. “Unless one of you tells. And if you tell, I’ll know.” His words sent a chill down my spine.

“The odds are stacked against us. Trust me, every Navarrian will look for a reason to call you a traitor,” he continued.

I hated that his voice still made my stomach twist, even now. And after how his hands had felt on me in the dark.

I stayed hidden, pressing closer to the trunk, heart pounding as I climbed down, branch by branch, testing each one before shifting my weight. Their voices blurred under the rush of the river until I was almost low enough to catch them.

A tall, broad-shouldered third-year near Xaden was the loudest. “We’ve already lost Sutherland and Luperco,” he said, though I couldn’t make out the reply.

Closer. My breath came shallow and fast. I was near enough for them to spot me if anyone glanced up—anyone except Xaden, whose back was turned.

“Like it or not, we’re going to have to stick together if you want to survive until graduation,” Imogen said. I bit back a surge of annoyance. The urge to kick her from this tree was strong, but I wasn’t that reckless.

“And if they find out we’re meeting?” a first-year girl asked nervously.

“We’ve done this for two years and they’ve never found out,” Xaden said, his voice cool, controlled. “Unless one of you tells. And if you tell, I’ll know.” His words sent a chill down my spine.

“The odds are stacked against us. Trust me, every Navarrian will look for a reason to call you a traitor,” he continued.

I hated that his voice still made my stomach twist, even now, even after what he’d done to me on the mat. And after how his hands had felt on me in the dark.

“How many of you are getting your asses handed to you in hand-to-hand?” he asked.

Four hands rose—none of them Liam’s, of course. Garrick offered to train them. “You’re our best fighter,” Xaden admitted, earning a chorus of agreement from the group, with Bodhi teasing and Imogen snarking.

“You learn what they teach you,” Xaden said when someone complained about Battle Brief. “Keep what you know, but recite whatever they tell you to.”

I frowned, puzzled. What did he mean? Why hint at something deeper?

It hit me then—aside from gathering in a forbidden group, there was no rebellion here. No coup. Just riders trying to survive, to protect each other.

Then a voice cut through my thoughts. “When do we get to kill Violet Sorrengail?”

My blood turned to ice.

“Yeah, Xaden,” Imogen purred. “When do we get our revenge?”

Xaden’s profile sharpened in the moonlight as he leveled her with a look. “I told you already. The youngest Sorrengail is mine. I’ll handle her when the time is right.”

Handle me? Fury flared. I’m not some problem he gets to handle.

“Didn’t you already learn that lesson, Imogen?” Bodhi said with a smirk. “I heard Aetos has you scrubbing dishes for a month for using your powers on the mat.”

Imogen bristled. “Her mother murdered my family.”

“She’s not her mother,” Garrick countered, his voice calm. “We don’t punish children for the sins of their parents.”

“So we get conscripted because of what our parents did years ago and shoved into this death sentence of a college—” Imogen starts. “She’s in the same death sentence of a college,” Garrick added. “Seems like she’s already suffering the same fate.”

“Don’t forget her brother was Brennan Sorrengail,” Xaden added quietly. “She has just as much reason to hate us as we do her.”

Then, in a low, dangerous voice, he said, “She’s mine to handle. Anyone feel like arguing?”

Silence fell.

“Good. Get back to bed. Threes,” he ordered, and they began to disperse, fading into the shadows. Xaden lingered, the last to leave.

Chapter Text

Violet

I waited until I was sure they were gone, counting to five hundred in my head, my muscles aching, my breath shallow. Only when the squirrels scampered past did I finish climbing down, dropping the last four feet.

Relief swept through me—until a shadow lunged behind me.

An arm locked around my throat, a hard chest pressing into my back. “Scream and you die,” he whispered, the words rough against my ear, and my stomach dropped.

“Fucking Sorrengail,” he muttered, pulling back my hood.

“How did you know?” I snapped, defiant even as the cold kiss of a dagger pressed against my throat. “Let me guess—my perfume?”

He scoffed, stepping away, the blade lowering. “I command shadows, but sure, it was your perfume.”

I spun, my blade drawn, ready to fight, pulse racing. His voice was a low, wicked caress. “What, Aetos hasn’t warned you not to be alone in the dark with me?”

“Is this how you plan to handle me?” I shot back, tightening my grip on the dagger.

“Eavesdropping, were we?” he said, sheathing his own dagger with infuriating ease, that mocking smirk tugging at his lips. “Now I might actually have to kill you.”

“Then go ahead and get it over with,” I growled, drawing another blade, stepping back just enough to throw if I had to.

He cocked his head, eyes trailing down me like a slow caress. “That stance is really the best you can muster? No wonder Imogen nearly ripped your arm off.”

“I’m more dangerous than you think.”

“So I see.” His smirk deepened, sharp and lethal. “I’m quaking in my boots.”

With a flick of my wrists, I hurled two blades past his head, embedding them in the tree trunk behind him.

“You missed,” he drawled, not even flinching.

I reached for my last blades. “Why don’t you back up and test that theory?”

Curiosity sparked in his eyes, but he stepped back, his lean form moving with a predator’s grace until his back hit the tree.

“Tell me again that I missed,” I murmured, voice low, breathless.

His mouth curved into an appreciative smile. “You look all frail and breakable, but you’re really a violent little thing, aren’t you?”

Shadows slipped from the tree, curling like fingers, plucking the blades from the bark and delivering them into his waiting hands. My breath caught, watching the sheer, terrifying beauty of his power.

He closed the distance between us, shadows trailing at his heels, his scent curling around me like temptation.

“You should show that little trick to Barlowe,” he murmured, returning my blades with a teasing smirk.

I stiffened, blade at the ready. “I’m sorry?”

“The neck-snapping first-year who’s vowed to slaughter you,” he clarified, sliding one blade into the sheath at my thigh, his fingers grazing skin. The contact sent a shiver through me.

My pulse jumped. He tucked the other dagger back into my ribs, his hand lingering just a second too long, his gaze catching on the fall of my braid.

I couldn’t breathe.

“He’d probably think twice about plotting your murder if you threw a few daggers at his head,” he said softly.

My heart stuttered, heat coiling low in my belly. “Because the honor of my murder belongs to you?”

He held my gaze, unreadable. “You plan on telling anyone about my little club?”

“No,” I whispered, my voice unsteady.

“Why not?” His tone dropped, a dangerous rumble.

I swallowed hard. “You were helping them. I don’t see why that should be punished.”

His eyes narrowed, a mix of calculation and something darker. “You’re not going to run to Mommy? Or your precious Dain?”

I met his gaze, my voice barely above a breath. “I’m not going to tell.”

For a beat, we just stared at each other, the air charged, our bodies too close. His lips parted slightly, his breath warm against my skin. My heart raced, every nerve strung tight as a bowstring.

His gaze lingered on me, dark and heated, as if he was waging a battle inside himself. But then he stepped closer, slow and deliberate, until I could feel the heat of his body.

“You’re dangerous,” he murmured, voice a low, rough purr that sent a shiver through me.

I lifted my chin. “So are you.”

He smirked, a hint of teeth. “You don’t even know the half of it, Sorrengail.”

“Maybe I want to,” I shot back, my voice breathless, my pulse racing.

He closed the last of the distance, his hands finding my hips, gripping them firmly, pulling me toward him. One hand slid up my side, fingers brushing over the edge of my braid, tugging gently. I gasped, arching into the touch.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he whispered against my lips, the rough brush of his breath making me dizzy.

“I’m not the one playing,” I whispered back, my hands sliding up his arms, tracing the hard muscles beneath his shirt, fingers fisting in the fabric as I pulled him closer.

Our mouths hovered, a breath apart, each waiting for the other to break.

“We shouldn’t do this,” I murmured.

“Gods, I hate you,” he growled.

“I hate you more.”

Silence, thick and charged, stretched between us.

“Fuck it,” he muttered, and then he was kissing me.

The world disappeared. His mouth was hot and desperate against mine, his kiss devouring, pulling me under. My hands found his hair, tangling in the dark strands, tugging hard. He groaned, the sound low and rough, curses whispered against my lips.

He turned us, my back hitting the tree, his body pressing into mine, hips grinding against me. I gasped, feeling the hard length of him through the layers of leather and fabric. His hands roamed my body, cupping my breasts through my shirt and corset, kneading, his touch rough and greedy.

I moaned, my hips rolling against him instinctively, seeking more.

“I can’t stop thinking about that night,” he rasped against my throat, lips trailing over my skin, teeth grazing. “The way you sounded. The way you felt. Gods, Violet…”

“Me too,” I gasped, breathless, my head falling back against the tree, arching into him. “I wanted this. I want it again.”

His hands were everywhere, one slipping down, fumbling at the waistband of my pants. His mouth crushed mine again, stealing my breath, as he slid a hand inside, fingers gliding over the slick heat of me.

“Shit,” he hissed, pulling back just enough to look at me, eyes wild, shadows rippling along his skin. “You’re so wet. So perfect. Gods, I need you.”

I moaned, his fingers stroking me, teasing, then pressing in, filling me. My hips rocked against his hand, the pressure building, sharp and sweet.

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he growled, kissing me hard, his tongue tangling with mine as his fingers worked me faster, rougher.

I gasped his name, my nails digging into his shoulders, clinging to him as pleasure coiled tight, ready to snap.

“Come for me, Violet,” he murmured, voice dark and commanding. “I want to feel you fall apart. I want to know I did this to you.”

I shattered, the release crashing over me like a wave. My cries were swallowed by his mouth, his body holding me up, fingers coaxing every last tremor from me until I was shaking against him.

His breathing was ragged, his cock straining against his leathers, hard and hot against me. “I need you,” he groaned, the sound desperate, breaking. “I can’t stop. I need more. I need you.”

I clung to him, my heart racing, my mind hazy with pleasure and need.

Xaden

I had her pinned against the tree, her body yielding to mine, her lips swollen and slick from our kiss. I was losing my mind, my control slipping with every ragged breath.

I kissed her again, a deep, consuming kiss that tasted like everything I couldn’t have. Her hands roamed over me, slow and deliberate, sliding down my chest and lower, cupping me through my pants.

“Fuck,” I hissed, breaking the kiss as her palm pressed against the hard length of me.

She looked up at me with that mischievous gleam in her eyes, the one that made me want to rip the world apart just to keep her.

“Violet,” I rasped, but she was already sinking to her knees before me, her hands tugging at the laces of my pants.

“What are you—” My words caught in my throat as she freed me, her small, sure hands wrapping around my cock. I groaned, nearly coming undone at the sight of her looking up at me with wide, hungry eyes.

“I’ll return the favor,” she murmured, her lips brushing the head of my cock before her tongue flicked out, teasing me with slow, deliberate licks.

“Gods,” I choked, my hands tangling in her hair, gripping tight as she took me deeper, her mouth hot and wet, her tongue working me with maddening skill. Shadows stirred around me, rippling in response to the way her mouth worked me, the pleasure tightening unbearably in my gut.

“You’re driving me insane,” I groaned, my voice raw, as she sucked harder, her cheeks hollowing. “Fuck, Violet, you feel so good. You’re perfect. So fucking perfect.”

She hummed around me, sending vibrations through me, and I nearly lost it.

“Violet, I’m—I’m going to come,” I warned, my voice breaking, my body trembling on the edge.

She didn’t pull away. If anything, she took me deeper, her tongue pressing against the underside of my cock, her hands steady on my hips.

“Shit, Violet,” I gasped, my hips jerking as the climax tore through me, blinding and brutal. Stars exploded behind my eyes, my shadows lashing out in wild, uncontrolled bursts.

She swallowed every last drop, not pulling away until I was spent, panting, my body shaking from the force of it.

I looked down at her, completely wrecked, my shadows still curling and flickering at the edges of my vision.

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

I tucked myself back into my pants, the air still thick with the scent of her, of us. My heart was still hammering in my chest, but I wasn’t ready to let her go. Not yet.

I dropped to my knees before her, cupping her face in my hands, my thumbs brushing over her flushed cheeks. “Fuck,” I muttered under my breath, unable to stop myself as I kissed her again, tasting her lips, not caring that I tasted myself on her tongue.

I tugged her down with me until we were lying on the soft grass beneath the tree, her braid slipping free as I raked my fingers through her hair. She sighed softly, her body pressing against mine like she belonged there.

For a long, quiet moment, we lay tangled together, the only sound the river’s rush and the pounding of my own heart.

She tilted her head toward me, her hazel and blue eyes catching mine, bright even in the moonlight.

“I don’t think I can hate you, Violence,” I whispered, the truth slipping out before I could stop it.

“Violence?” she asked, a slight smile tugging at her lips.

“Fits you better, you menace,” I said, and she laughed softly, the sound curling around my soul, making it sing.

She kissed me then, slow and lingering, and the ache in my chest nearly undid me. I wanted to memorize the feel of her, the taste of her lips, the way her body melted into mine.

“I don’t think I can hate you too, Xaden,” she murmured, her voice a soft promise against my skin. Hearing my name on her lips was a drug I couldn’t resist.

But I had to.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” I said, my voice low, my hands trailing down her sides, trying to memorize the shape of her. “I’m your wingleader. This… this is wrong.”

She nodded, her brow furrowing. “I know. I should stay away from you. We should stay away from each other.”

We both knew we wouldn’t.

Our mouths found each other again, the kiss hungry, desperate, her body sliding over mine. She straddled my hips, her weight pressing down, her hands skimming up my chest, nails dragging lightly. I groaned, grabbing her ass, pulling her tighter against me as I bucked beneath her, the heat between us igniting again.

She pressed her face into the crook of my neck, her breath warm against my skin, her heartbeat racing with mine.

Just for a little while , I told myself. Just for a little while I can pretend this is real.

But the weight of my secrets pressed down on me, heavy and suffocating. The Venin. The deal with her mother. The stolen weapons. And Brennan. Gods her brother . Still alive and hidden, a secret that could destroy us both if it got out.

I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be touching her, holding her, breathing her in like she was the only thing keeping me grounded.

But I couldn’t stop.

I tightened my arms around her, burying my face in her hair, letting myself feel her warmth, her softness, her quiet strength. I’ll stay away, I told myself. After this, I’ll walk away. I’ll keep my distance.

But even as I thought it, I knew it was a lie.

Chapter Text

Xaden

I woke warm, safe, and more comfortable than I’d been in months. Violet’s weight was draped over me, her breath soft against my throat, her hair a mess of silver tangling around us. My arms tightened around her instinctively, pulling her closer, breathing her in like she was oxygen.

Gods, I didn’t want to let go.

A throat cleared, sharp and amused.

I cracked one eye open, and there, standing above us with a shit-eating grin, was Garrick.

Violet stirred, her head lifting, her cheeks flushing pink as she realized exactly where we were—and who was watching. She tried to scurry off me, but I tightened my grip around her waist.

“Going somewhere?” I murmured, voice low and teasing, though my glare was aimed squarely at Garrick.

He couldn’t hold back. “Well, well, well. I was wondering where you’d gone, Riorson. Didn’t hear you come back to the room, so I went looking. And look what I found.” He grinned wider, leaning against a tree like he had all the time in the world.

“Fuck off, Garrick,” I growled, my voice rough from sleep and frustration.

“I mean, I could… but this is just too good,” he said, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Give us a minute,” I snapped, my arms still around Violet.

Garrick snorted but finally turned and walked a few steps away, giving us space.

Violet was quiet, her cheeks flushed, her eyes not quite meeting mine. We’d fallen asleep without meaning to, tangled together under the tree like it was the safest place in the world. Dawn was just starting to streak the sky with pale light.

I loosened my arms as she shifted, the realization of where we were—and who was watching—crashing down. She straightened, her cheeks flushed pink, and stood, stretching her arms high over her head, her back arching slightly as she rolled her shoulders.

My breath caught, my eyes tracing the line of her body as her shirt pulled taut across her chest, her silver braid tumbling down her back.

Gods, she was so fucking beautiful it hurt.

I rose to my feet, brushing the grass from my leathers, but my gaze never left her. She looked down, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, avoiding my eyes as though she wasn’t aware of the fire still burning between us.

“Violet,” I said softly, stepping close.

She lifted her gaze, and I reached out, brushing my knuckles over her cheek, watching as her lips parted slightly, her breath hitching. My fingers slid into her hair, loosening what was left of her braid.

Then I kissed her.

It wasn’t gentle or restrained—this kiss was a brand, scorching and desperate, like I was trying to carve her into my memory. Her lips opened under mine, her hands flying up to my chest, fisting in my shirt as though she could anchor herself to me.

I deepened the kiss, tilting her head back, devouring her mouth with mine. Our bodies pressed together, my hands slipping to her hips, her waist, pulling her as close as possible.

She made a soft, broken sound, her fingers curling tighter in the fabric over my heart.

It was too much. Not enough. Everything I couldn’t have.

I kissed her like it was the last time, because it should be. Because it had to be.

When I finally tore myself away, our breaths were harsh, mingling in the quiet space between us. My forehead pressed to hers, my hands trembling where they held her.

“I’ll see you when I see you,” I whispered against her lips.

Her voice was soft, shaking. “I’ll see you when I see you.”

I lingered, brushing my thumb over her lower lip, memorizing the feel of her mouth, her breath, her warmth.

Then I stepped back, forcing my hands to let her go even as my body screamed in protest.

“Now go,” I said, my voice raw. “Before your wingleader finds you out here.”

“Funny,” she said, her lips curving into a faint, wry smile.

I watched her walk away, her form slipping through the trees, and every step she took felt like a weight settling in my chest.

“You’re fucked, you know,” Garrick said with a smirk, breaking the silence.

“Shut the fuck up,” I muttered, my gaze still locked on the spot where she’d disappeared.

But he was right. I was already so far gone, I didn’t think I could come back.

Violet

I crept through the hallways of the first-year barracks, my heart still thundering from that kiss…from him. My lips were tingling, my skin still warm where his hands had touched me, but my mind was a tangled mess of guilt, longing, and disbelief.

Gods, what am I doing?

I was so lost in thought that I barely noticed the door opening ahead of me. Rhiannon and Tara stepped into the hall out of one of the still empty first year dorms that will be obtained after Threshing, their hair mussed, cheeks flushed.

“Well, good morning to you two,” I teased with a grin, raising an eyebrow.

They both turned, laughing, Rhiannon’s face lighting up before Tara smiled at me and pressed a quick kiss to her lips and disappeared down the hall.

“Morning,” Rhiannon called after her, then turned to me with a knowing smirk. “And where are you coming from, exactly?”

I felt my cheeks flush, the weight of the night pressing down on me.

Rhi’s smile faded, her brow furrowing. “Violet? What’s wrong?”

I hesitated, then sighed, dropping my shoulders. “It’s…complicated.”

“Complicated is my specialty.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me into the room she and Tara had just vacated, closing the door softly behind us.

We both collapsed onto the edge of the bed, the mattress squeaking under us. I twisted my hands in my lap, unable to meet her eyes.

“It just…happened,” I blurted, my voice low and shaky. “I…slept with Xaden Riorson.”

Rhiannon’s jaw dropped, and then she shrieked, “WHAT?!”

I winced, shushing her, my cheeks burning. “Rhi! Keep it down!”

She laughed, her eyes wide, and grabbed my arm. “You can’t just drop that on me and expect me to be quiet! Violet! You…Xaden Riorson?”

I nodded miserably, covering my face with my hands. “It was before I even entered the quadrant. In Chantara. I didn’t know who he was—he didn’t know who I was. It was just…one night. But last night…”

I groaned again, flopping back on the bed. “Stop! You’re not helping!”

Rhiannon flopped down next to me, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, come on, Vi! You can’t just drop I slept with Xaden Riorson and then clam up. I need details.”

I buried my face in my hands. “Nope. Not happening. My brain is still trying to process it all.”

“Too bad,” Rhi said, nudging me with her shoulder. “Details. Now. Or I’ll die from curiosity.”

I peeked at her between my fingers. “Rhi, I can’t—”

She gave me a look. “Violet. Come on. Girl code.”

I groaned, rolling my head back against the pillow. “Fine. But you didn’t hear this from me, okay?”

“Promise!” she said, her eyes wide and gleaming.

I sighed, cheeks already burning. “He’s…he’s incredible. His hands, Rhi. The things he can do with his fingers—”

Rhiannon squealed, smacking the bed. “NO. Way. Tell me everything!”

I squeezed my eyes shut. “He…he made me come with just his fingers. And his voice. Gods, his voice. It’s all rough and commanding, but when he wants, it goes soft, like he’s whispering in your ear, and—ugh!”

Rhiannon was practically vibrating with excitement. “You’re killing me! What else? You said yesterday ? Beneath the tree?”

I groaned again, but the words tumbled out. “I was trying to sneak away, and he caught me. He was so close, and I couldn’t think straight. He kissed me, and then—”

“Then?” Rhi leaned in, eyes wide.

I covered my face with my hands. “He had me against the tree. His hands were everywhere, his mouth—gods, Rhi—he was grinding against me, and I couldn’t even think. Then he slipped his hand into my pants and—”

“STOP,” Rhi shrieked, grabbing a pillow and smacking me with it. “That’s so hot, I’m actually going to combust. I can’t believe you held this in until now!”

I laughed, the sound bubbling out of me as my face turned red. “I’m going to hell for this. He’s my wingleader, Rhi. I can’t keep doing this.”

Rhiannon dropped the pillow, her smile softening. “You don’t have to decide right now. Just…don’t shut yourself off from something that obviously makes you happy. Even if it’s complicated.”

I sighed, staring at the ceiling, my pulse still racing just from the memory. “It’s very, very complicated.”

“Yeah,” Rhi grinned. “But I’m betting it’s also very, very worth it.”

I stared at the ceiling, my heart pounding. “I can’t… I shouldn’t. There’s too much—”

“Too much what?” she said softly. “Too much history? Too much danger? Violet, you’re a rider now. You’ve already risked everything. Why not risk a little more for something that actually makes you feel alive?”

I turned my head to look at her, her words sinking in. My pulse skittered wildly at the memory of Xaden’s mouth on mine, his hands, the way he’d held me like I was the only thing keeping him grounded.

“I hate you,” I muttered with a weak smile.

She grinned. “No, you don’t. You love me for telling you the truth. And for reminding you that life’s too short to spend it trying to convince yourself not to want something—or someone.”

I laughed softly, the sound easing some of the tension in my chest.

Rhiannon rolled onto her back, her gaze fixed on the ceiling. “So, when’s round three?”

I groaned again, covering my face. “Shut up.”

She just laughed, her voice warm and teasing. “You’re screwed, Sorrengail. And honestly? I think you’re okay with that.”

***

I finished braiding my hair into a coronet around my head, the familiar rhythm of it settling my nerves—at least for a moment. I adjusted my tunic and made sure my sling was tight, then opened the door to the barracks hallway.

Dain’s eyes lit up as he pushed off the wall, clearly waiting for me. “Morning.”

I couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips. “You don’t have to escort me to duty every morning, you know.”

“It’s the only time I get to see you when I’m not your squad leader,” he said as we walked down the hallway toward the kitchen. “Trust me, it’s worth getting up an hour early, though I still can’t figure out why you’d choose breakfast duty over every other assignment.”

I shrugged. “I have my reasons.” Really, really good reasons. Like sneaking out for deadly poison vines and stolen kisses.

As we passed the hallway leading to the first-year dorms, he smirked. “Caught Rhiannon and Tara coming out of a private dorm yesterday,” he muttered.

I bit back a grin, thinking about how I’d seen them myself this morning. Way to go, Rhi.

“Monitoring the sex lives of first-years wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I applied to be squad leader,” he added, shaking his head.

“Oh, come on,” I teased. “Like you weren’t a first-year yourself last year.”

He shrugged. “Fair point. And you’re a first-year now…”

His gaze slid toward me as we neared the rotunda, his mouth parting like he wanted to say more, but then he pivoted to open the door for me.

“Why, Dain Aetos! Are you asking me about my sex life?” I let my fingers brush over the carved green dragon pillar, suppressing a smile.

“No!” he said quickly, then hesitated. “I mean…is there a sex life to ask about?”

We climbed the steps leading into commons, and I stopped just before the door, turning to face him. He was two steps below, bringing us eye to eye.

“Since I got here?” I tapped my chin with a smile. “That’s none of your business. Before I got here? Still none of your business.”

“Another fair point.” His grin made my stomach flip, but not the way Xaden’s smirk did.

As we entered the commons, heat pooled low in my belly, the memory of Xaden’s hands and mouth against me the night before making my pulse race. But the guilt crept in too—about what I’d seen beneath the tree, what I hadn’t told Dain.

I pushed it down. Not yet , I thought.

We continued into the commons, past the empty study tables and the entrance to the library. It wasn’t as grand as the Archives, but it had everything I’d need.

“Are you ready for today?” Dain asked as we neared the gathering hall. “For the challenges to start this afternoon?”

My stomach twisted. “I’ll be all right,” I said, but he moved in front of me, halting my steps.

“I know you’ve been practicing with Rhiannon, but…” Worry creased his brow.

“I’ve got it,” I promised, locking eyes with him. “You don’t have to worry.”

Last night, I’d seen Oren Seifert’s name posted next to mine—just like Brennan had said. A tall blond from First Wing with tolerable knife skills and a hell of a punch.

“I always worry about you,” Dain said, his hands curling into fists.

“Don’t.” I shook my head. “I can handle myself.”

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt again.” His voice tightened.

My heart squeezed. “Then don’t watch.” I took his calloused hand. “You can’t save me from this, Dain. I’m going to be challenged like every other cadet. It won’t stop there. You can’t protect me from Threshing, or the Gauntlet, or Jack Barlowe—”

“You need to lay low with that one,” he said, grimacing. “Avoid him whenever you can. He’s already responsible for too many names on the death roll.”

“Then the dragons are going to love him,” I muttered. They always went for the vicious ones.

Dain squeezed my hand gently. “Just steer clear of him.”

The knot of guilt twisted tighter in my stomach. I should tell him what I’d seen beneath the oak tree—the gathering of marked ones. But I couldn’t. Not because of Xaden’s threat, but because…keeping the secret felt right. I’d never kept anything from Dain before.

“Violet? Did you hear me?” Dain asked, brushing a hand over my cheek.

I jerked my gaze back to his. “Steer clear of Barlowe,” I repeated.

He dropped his hand, shoving it into his pocket. “Hopefully he’ll forget about his little vendetta.”

“Do most men forget when a woman holds a knife to their balls?” I arched a brow.

He sighed. “No.”

The bells rang, saving me from another round of Dain trying to convince me to run to the Scribes.

“I’ll be all right. I’ll see you at formation,” I said, giving his hand a squeeze and turning toward the kitchen.

I was always the first there, and today was no exception. I pocketed the vial of dried fonilee berries from my satchel and got to work as the others trickled in, sleepy and grumbling.

An hour later, I stood in the serving line, slipping the nearly invisible powder over Oren Seifert’s scrambled eggs as he approached.

Chapter Text

Violet

“Keep the temperaments of each specific breed in mind when you decide which dragons to approach and which to run from at Threshing,” Professor Kaori said, his serious gaze sweeping over us. His illusion shifted from a Green Daggertail to a Red Scorpiontail, the shimmering projection life-sized but still only a fraction of the real beast.

“Red Scorpiontails, like Ghrian here, are the quickest to temper,” he continued, his mustache twitching with a wry smile.

“Lunch,” Ridoc muttered, making everyone laugh. Even Jack Barlowe cracked a snort.

“Exactly,” Kaori said. “So, how do you approach one?”

I stayed silent, heeding Dain’s warning to lay low.

“You don’t,” Rhiannon whispered beside me, and I fought back a grin.

“From the left and front, if possible,” a woman from another squad offered.

“Excellent,” Kaori nodded. “For this Threshing, there are three Red Scorpiontails willing to bond.”

Rhiannon leaned forward. “How many dragons total?”

“A hundred,” Kaori replied, his tone tight. “That’s thirty-seven fewer than last year, twenty-six fewer than the year before that.”

My stomach churned. Fewer dragons. More risk.

“Do they ever say why they won’t bond?” someone asked.

“No,” Jack scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Dragons only talk to their bonded riders.”

Kaori sent him a look but didn’t correct him. “They don’t share their reasons. And anyone smart doesn’t ask questions they don’t want answers to.”

Aurelie’s quill tapped. “Do the numbers affect the wards?”

Kaori’s jaw tightened. “No proof of that yet. But we’re seeing more breaches. You all know that from Battle Brief.”

The illusion shifted, and Sgaeyl appeared in stunning detail, her sleek blue form making my breath catch.

“She’s the only blue you’ll see this year,” Kaori said. “And if you do, run. Sgaeyl doesn’t follow anyone’s rules but her own.”

“Run,” Ridoc echoed, shaking his head.

I swallowed hard. Sgaeyl—Xaden’s dragon. My pulse jumped as my thoughts tangled into a mess of memory and longing. His voice in my ear, his hands on my skin, his mouth… Gods, I was already so far gone.

“What about the black dragon?” a first-year asked, glancing at Jack.

Jack grinned. “I want that one.”

Kaori replaced Sgaeyl with a massive black dragon, even the illusion towering above us.

“He’s huge,” Rhiannon whispered.

“A morningstartail,” Kaori said. “Powerful, ruthless. No one has seen him in years. But yes, there’s one black besides General Melgren’s.”

“Best of both worlds,” Jack called out.

Kaori’s lips twitched. “He is a killing machine. And black dragons? They’re the rarest. The smartest. The most discerning. There’s no such thing as outsmarting a black dragon. This one’s about a hundred years old and was crucial during the Tyrrish rebellion. Add to that his tail, and he’s one of the deadliest dragons in Navarre.”

“He must power one hell of a signet,” Jack murmured, eyes gleaming. “How do you approach him?”

“There’s no point,” Kaori said, folding his arms. “He hasn’t chosen a rider in decades. But if you see him, my advice is simple.”

The room hushed as Kaori locked eyes with each of us.

“Run.”

Xaden

I stalked down the corridor toward the sparring gym, Garrick and Bodhi trailing behind me.

“So,” Garrick drawled, his voice far too delighted for this early in the godsdamn morning. “Guess who I found our wingleader here with this morning, Bodhi.”

Bodhi let out a low whistle, amusement lighting up his face. “Please, do tell me it’s who I think it is.”

“Violet Sorrengail herself,” Garrick confirmed with a shit-eating grin. “You should have seen them—wrapped around each other like they were the only two people in the world. And the kiss? Gods above, I thought I’d have to hose them down.”

I rolled my eyes, my patience already wearing thin.

“Once again, Xaden,” Garrick added, smirking as he nudged me. “You’re fucked.”

“You already said that,” I muttered under my breath, my voice low and dangerous.

Bodhi shrugged. “Doesn’t make it any less accurate.”

I exhaled through my nose, staring ahead, refusing to rise to it. My patience was already fraying, and we weren’t even through the doors yet.

“Doesn’t matter anyway,” Garrick added with a smug smirk. “Sorrengail’s just as fucked.”

My steps faltered. “Her name is Violet,” I snapped before I could stop myself.

Garrick’s eyes gleamed. “See? Fucked.” 

I shot him a glare that should have melted stone, but he only chuckled, clearly enjoying the rare sight of me rattled.

“She’s still Sorrengail,” Bodhi said, nudging Garrick. “Which means trouble for all of us. Especially you.”

I clenched my jaw, my fists tightening. My patience was a frayed thread, and they were plucking at it like bards with a harp.

As we neared the gym, my thoughts darkened. Challenges were starting today. I couldn’t stop worrying about her—about how fragile her body was, how breakable her bones could be. The thought of her facing someone like Oren or, worse, Barlowe, made my stomach churn.

I should be training her myself, teaching her how to fight, how to survive. But the thought of her beneath me on the mat, her flushed skin, the way she’d move against me… My cock stirred treacherously at the thought, heat coiling low in my abdomen.

Traitor, I growled silently, forcing the image away.

I shoved the gym doors open and stepped inside, my mind a storm of worry, desire, and shadows.

The sparring gym buzzed with low voices and the rhythmic slap of bodies hitting mats. My gaze swept the room, ignoring the calls of instructors, the cackles of victorious cadets.

And then I saw her.

Violet.

She was standing at the edge of a mat, her arms crossed, her gaze locked on Rhiannon as she absolutely obliterated her opponent from Second Wing. Her braid around her head, the silver strands making it look like a crown. Her delicate frame wrapped in the uniform that still somehow managed to make her look both breakable and utterly infuriating.

Aetos stood too close to her, his elbow brushing hers as they exchanged low words. The sight made my jaw clench, a bitter spike of jealousy curling low in my gut. He was too close. Close in a way I couldn’t be. Not here. Not with eyes everywhere. Not ever.

Dain caught sight of me and glared, trying to level me with some half-assed version of authority. His gaze dripped with accusation, as though he knew exactly what Violet and I had been doing last night.

My lips curled into a slow, smug smirk. Let him try.

He said something to her, and her head snapped up like a deer scenting danger—only there was no fear in her eyes when they met mine.

Our gazes locked.

Her lips parted ever so slightly, her chest rising with a sharp inhale.

And then—godsdamn her—her eyelashes dipped, long and soft as she fluttered them at me, her mouth curving into the barest hint of a smile. Not a polite one. Not an innocent one. A slow, seductive curve that made my cock twitch and my patience snap.

That little menace.

I barely suppressed a growl, feeling the heavy weight of my shadows coil at my feet. She knew exactly what she was doing. Playing me like a violin, even in the middle of a crowded gym.

And I was letting her.

I tore my gaze away before I did something idiotic—like cross the floor and kiss her senseless in front of every cadet in Basgiath.

I couldn’t stop watching her.

She stood at the edge of the mat, her shoulders squared as if she owned the godsdamned place. Rhiannon had just taken down her opponent, and the cadet from Second Wing collapsed to the mat like a sack of rocks. Violet didn’t flinch, just watched with that calculating stare of hers, like she was memorizing every move, every angle.

Rhiannon bent down, plucked the dagger from her opponent’s belt. “Looks like this is mine now. Enjoy your nap.” She patted him on the head, and my lips twitched into a reluctant smile.

“Not sure why you’re laughing, Sorrengail,” a sneering voice cut through the air.

I turned sharply, shadows licking at my fingertips, and there was Barlowe—his smug grin a punchable offense, leaning against the wooden wall like he owned the world.

“Fuck off, Barlowe.”

Violet’s voice rang clear and sharp, and the middle finger she gifted him made me want to grin like a fool. Gods, she was fire.

“I honestly hope you win today’s challenge,” Barlowe said, his tone dripping with malice. “It would be a shame for someone else to kill you before I get the chance. But I wouldn’t be surprised. Violets are such delicate… fragile things, you know.”

Delicate? My jaw clenched hard enough to ache. Delicate, my ass. He clearly hadn’t been paying attention to her for the last ten minutes—or last week.

Before I could even think to step in, she drew both daggers from her ribs, flicking them with practiced precision. One blade zipped past his ear, the other landed an inch beneath his balls, nailing the wood so hard it vibrated.

Barlowe’s eyes went wide, real fear flickering across his face.

Violet just grinned, wiggling her fingers in a taunting wave that had me smirking. Proud didn’t even cover it. She was the perfect blend of dangerous and mesmerizing.

“Violet,” Aetos hissed, stepping in as though she needed his protection. My hands clenched into fists, the shadows stirring at my back. He didn’t get it—she didn’t need his pity, didn’t need him hovering. She could fucking handle herself.

“You’ll pay for that,” Barlowe snapped as he slunk away, but his steps were shaky, his bravado cracked.

Violet calmly retrieved her daggers, sliding them back into place with infuriating grace.

“What the hell was that?” Aetos barked at her, his voice sharp and stupidly possessive. “I told you to lay low when it comes to him, and you…” He shook his head like she was the problem.

“Laying low wasn’t getting me anywhere,” she said with a shrug, as Rhiannon’s opponent was hauled off the mat. “He needs to realize I’m not a liability.”

I bit back a laugh, pride swelling hot and fast in my chest. No, Violence. You’re anything but a liability.

My gaze trailed her, my shadows itching to wrap around her, to pull her to my side where she belonged.

Dain still didn’t see it. He never would. But I did.

“Sorrengail.” Professor Emetterio’s voice cut through the gym, and I stiffened as he called her name. His bushy brows rose as he glanced at his notebook. “Seifert.”

I felt every muscle in my body lock as Violet stepped onto the mat, facing off against Oren Seifert. Of all the fucking opponents she could’ve drawn, it had to be him—the cocky first-year with a half-decent punch and a head too big for his shoulders. He was exactly the kind of problem I didn’t want her facing.

“Relax, Riorson,” Garrick drawled from beside me, nudging my arm. “Liam’s up too, you know.”

I grunted, barely sparing a glance toward the other mat where Liam was sparring. He’d be fine. Seifert, though...I didn’t trust that bastard as far as I could throw him.

“Don’t take this personally,” Seifert said to her, his voice low and smug as they began to circle each other.

I tensed, the shadows flickering in response. Violet’s hands were up, her posture loose but ready, her footwork light. She was prepared. Good.

“But you’ll only be a hazard to your wing,” Seifert continued, charging at her.

My breath caught as she spun out of the way, her blade flashing, catching him in the side. Quick, clean, efficient. Gods, she was fast.

“I’m no more a hazard than you are,” she snapped back.

Seifert staggered, sweat already dotting his forehead, his breathing ragged. Something wasn’t right. I narrowed my eyes. He was off-balance, clumsy, sluggish.

“My sister is a healer,” he muttered, swaying. “I’ve heard your bones snap like twigs.”

“Why don’t you come find out?” Violet taunted.

I felt the surge of pride bloom hot in my chest. She was holding her ground, reading him perfectly. The shadows curled tighter, urging me forward, but I forced them down. She didn’t need me.

She waited, poised and calculating, as he retched mid-match. What the fuck? I glanced at Garrick, who just arched a brow.

“Something’s wrong with him,” I murmured, suspicion tightening my jaw. Seifert’s body shuddered, and he charged again—sloppy, desperate.

Violet dodged with precision, nicking his side and sending him sprawling with a swift kick. My lips curved in a small, grim smile. She was brilliant.

“Yield,” she commanded, her dagger at his throat as he lay pinned beneath her.

“No!” Seifert gasped, vomiting violently across the mat.

I winced, disgust tightening my gut. Gross.

“Oh my gods,” Rhiannon’s voice rang out from the sidelines.

“Yield,” Violet demanded again, pulling her blade back just in time to avoid slicing him open.

“He yields,” Emetterio declared, his face twisted in revulsion.

I let out a slow, relieved breath as she sheathed her blade and rose from the mat, her movements fluid and controlled despite the chaos. She bent to retrieve Seifert’s dropped dagger, heavier than her own, and slid it into the empty sheath at her thigh.

“You won!” Rhiannon called, rushing to hug her.

“He’s sick,” Violet said with a shrug, but her smile was tight.

“I’ll take being lucky over being good any day,” Rhiannon countered.

“I have to find someone to get this cleaned up,” Aetos said, looking queasy.

I watched her as she stepped away, victorious but clearly shaken. My eyes narrowed as I studied Seifert where he knelt, still heaving. Something about his condition gnawed at me. It wasn’t just exhaustion. It was…off. Too convenient. Too suspicious.

Interesting.

Chapter Text

Violet

The common room was almost empty, except for the low hum of quiet conversation and the scrape of quills on parchment. I sat at our usual table with Rhiannon, Ridoc, and Sawyer, pretending to study. My open book blurred in front of me, the words turning into meaningless scribbles. I stared blankly at a line of text, chewing on my lower lip, and barely noticed when Rhiannon snapped her fingers in front of my face.

“Violet?” she said knowingly, her tone halfway between amusement and exasperation. “What’s got you so distracted?”

I flushed, realizing I’d been daydreaming about Xaden—again.

“Oh come on,” Rhi teased, grinning. “You’ve been off in your own little world all night. Thinking about someone with a certain brooding stare and perfectly tousled hair, maybe?”

Ridoc blinked, tilting his head, confused. “Brooding stare? Tousled hair? Who’re we talking about?”

Rhiannon rolled her eyes. “Xaden. Duh. Violet’s obviously thinking about Xaden Riorson.”

Ridoc’s jaw dropped, and his face lit up like he’d just witnessed a solar eclipse. “Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Xaden? Our Xaden? The tall, dark, and dangerous one who looks like he’d rather gut someone than smile? That Xaden?!”

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “Yes, that Xaden.”

Ridoc looked like he was about to combust from sheer delight and disbelief. “Damn, Violet! You move fast!”

I sighed, my face burning, but something inside me gave way. “Fine. You want to know? I’ll tell you everything. I met him before Basgiath—before I even knew who he was. We met in Chandra, at a bar. We flirted, we drank, we talked, we… we spent the night together.”

Rhiannon’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “Oh, she’s downplaying it. They didn’t just ‘spend the night.’ She told me already—they practically set the sheets on fire. I bet Xaden Riorson didn’t know what hit him.”

“Rhiannon!” I hissed, but Ridoc and Sawyer were both leaning in now, fascinated.

“I didn’t know who he was,” I repeated, my voice quiet. “I had no idea. And then I show up here, and he’s Xaden Riorson, my wingleader. The son of the great betrayer. And now… he’s pretending I don’t exist.”

“That’s rough,” Ridoc said with an exaggerated wince. “I mean, damn, you hook up with the hottest guy in Basgiath, and now he’s ghosting you? Tragic.”

Rhiannon nudged me playfully. “Or he’s doing that thing guys do where they act like they don’t care because they actually care way too much.”

I shook my head. “He’s distant. Cold. I don’t know what to do. It’s like he’s trying to protect himself or something, but it’s driving me crazy.”

Sawyer, who had been quiet this whole time, finally spoke up, his voice calm and thoughtful. “Maybe he’s keeping his distance because he has to, not because he wants to. Guys like Xaden… they have a lot of walls. And from what I’ve seen, he’s not the kind to let someone close easily.”

I looked at him, my heart twisting. “So what do I do?”

“Give him time,” Sawyer said gently. “Don’t chase him, but don’t close yourself off either. If it’s real, he’ll come back.”

I sighed, feeling the knot in my chest loosen a little. These three always knew how to make me feel like I wasn’t alone in this mess.

As we gathered our things to head back to the barracks, Ridoc pulled me into a crushing hug, his arms squeezing the breath from my lungs. “You’re too good for him anyway if he doesn’t see it,” he said fiercely.

I smiled into his shoulder, warmth spreading through me. “Thanks, Ridoc.”

“Anytime,” he replied, releasing me with a ruffle of my hair.

As we left the common room, I couldn’t help but feel a little lighter—like maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t carrying this weight alone.

Xaden

I was walking down the corridor past the common room, mind focused on the upcoming weapons drop and trying to keep my mind off—
There she was.

Violet.

In the common room with her friends, laughing, her silver braid falling over her shoulder. Ridoc leaned in, his arms wrapping around her in a tight hug.

My chest constricted, a sharp pang slicing through me. My fists clenched at my sides, the irrational urge to storm in there and rip him off her burning through me like wildfire.

‘You’re pathetic’, Sgaeyl’s voice rumbled through my mind, dry as cracked parchment.

‘Stay out of this’, I snapped back, but her amused snort echoed in my head.

‘Can’t help it,’ she said, smug as ever. ‘ You’re practically foaming at the mouth every time she’s near. You’d think you’d grown out of this adolescent nonsense by now.’

I kept walking, jaw tight, my shadows pulsing at the edges of my vision. She’s not mine, I reminded myself.

‘No, but you want her to be,’ Sgaeyl purred, her tone dripping with mirth. ‘ And by the looks of it, she wants you too.’

I clenched my fists harder, ignoring her laughter in my head as I forced myself to keep walking, putting as much distance as possible between me and the sight of Ridoc’s hands on her.

When I reached my room, I found Garrick, Bodhi, and Imogen already there, lounging around as if they owned the place. My jaw ticked. I’d hoped for a moment of solitude to get her out of my head.

“Finally,” Garrick said with a smirk. “We were about to send Sgaeyl to drag you back here.”

I groaned inwardly but motioned them in. Liam slipped through the door a moment later, his usual quiet presence grounding the room.

They were talking about the upcoming weapon drops, about who would take the next assignment. Bodhi and Imogen were both eager to prove themselves, but my mind was elsewhere. It was on the curve of Violet’s lips, the way her body had molded against mine that night, the taste of her on my tongue.

“Xaden, you with us?” Garrick asked, snapping his fingers in front of me.

I straightened, forcing my thoughts back to the mission. “Yeah. Bodhi and Imogen can handle the next drops. Just make sure they’re not followed. We can’t afford another close call like last time.”

Imogen rolled her eyes, the smugness practically dripping from her lips. “As long as none of us are too busy screwing the General’s delicate little daughter to focus on the mission, we’ll be fine.”

The words slammed into me like a physical blow, my shadows coiling around me as rage flared hot and violent.

“Watch your fucking mouth, Imogen,” I said, my voice low and dangerous, barely more than a growl.

Her smirk faltered for a second but returned, weaker this time. “Just calling it like I see it.”

“I don’t care what you think you see,” I snapped, my tone sharp enough to cut through stone. “You cross a line like that again, and it won’t just be words you’ll have to worry about.”

She scowled but stood, grabbing her cloak. “Fine. Whatever,” she hissed, but instead of storming out immediately, she lingered at the doorway, glancing between us.

“You’re going to regret this, Xaden,” she said, her voice low, venomous.

Garrick snorted from where he was leaning against the wall. “Don’t mind her, she’s just pissed because she’s sexually frustrated in general.”

Imogen’s face flushed an angry red, her jaw tightening. “Maybe if some people weren’t too busy sticking their noses in everyone else’s business, things would be different,” she snapped, glaring pointedly at Garrick.

Bodhi, standing nearby, let out a low laugh. “Oof, that one hit close to home.”

My shadows flared involuntarily, pulsing along the floor, and Bodhi lifted his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, let’s all take a deep breath here before someone gets strangled by shadow tendrils.”

“Get out, Imogen,” I said, my voice calm but carrying enough weight to shake the air.

She glared at me, but this time her gaze flicked to Garrick, her frustration barely concealed, before she turned and finally left, her cloak swirling behind her.

As the door clicked shut, Garrick let out a low whistle. “Damn, Riorson, she’s pissed at me more than she is at you. Guess I’m just too irresistible.”

Bodhi laughed, shaking his head. “She’s got it bad for you, Garrick. Too bad you’re not into pink-haired, blade-happy psychos.”

Garrick’s grin faltered, the cocky confidence slipping just a fraction. “Yeah, nah, not into that… at all,” he said, but his voice didn’t carry the usual conviction, and the half-heartedness in his tone wasn’t lost on anyone.

Liam glanced at me, his brow raised, while I just smirked.

Bodhi caught the shift and smirked wider, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Oh, I see how it is,” he muttered.

I rolled my eyes, my shadows finally retreating as I sighed. “You two are insufferable.”

“Only because you make it so easy,” Garrick said, but his voice was softer now, tinged with something even he probably didn’t want to admit.

We discussed logistics a little longer, but my mind kept drifting. Bodhi and Garrick eventually left, their laughter fading down the hall.

Liam lingered, watching me with those knowing eyes that seemed to see straight through the armor I kept tightly wrapped around myself.

“She’s gotten under your skin,” he said quietly, his voice carrying more weight than the words themselves.

I sighed, raking a hand through my hair. “I know,” I admitted, the word rough and reluctant. I exhaled slowly, the tension that had been building in my chest threatening to crack wide open. “But I can’t… I shouldn’t.”

His lips quirked in a half-smile, his voice dropping just a bit. “You can try to stay away. But it’ll just make it worse. Trust me.”

I leaned back against the edge of the table, arms crossed, feeling the weight of it all pressing down on me. “It’s just… she’s not what I expected. She’s supposed to be weak, a liability.” My voice softened, and despite myself, I felt the corner of my mouth twitch upward, unbidden. “But she’s fire. She’s stubborn as hell. Smart. Fuck, Liam, she’s dangerous in a way I can’t even explain.”

He tilted his head, waiting, the ghost of a smirk playing at his lips.

“She makes me forget why I’m even here sometimes,” I murmured, shaking my head, a small laugh breaking free. “It’s infuriating. And stupid. And…” I trailed off, running a hand down my face. “I can’t stop thinking about her. About her voice, her laugh, the way she looks at me like she’s daring me to burn her alive.”

I could feel the pull of a smile tugging at my lips, and I tried to fight it, but it was useless. Just thinking about her had me completely undone.

Liam’s grin widened, and he stepped toward the door. “You’re so fucked,” he said with a low laugh, the words slipping past like a whispered truth.

I groaned, scrubbing both hands down my face, trying to erase the lingering smile and the flood of warmth pooling low in my gut. “Shut the fuck up,” I muttered, but there was no bite to it.

Liam’s laughter echoed softly as he opened the door, casting one last glance back at me. “I mean it, Xaden. You’re completely and utterly fucked.”

He left me standing there, alone in the quiet, with nothing but the echo of her name in my mind and the scent of her still clinging to my skin like a ghost I couldn’t shake.

Chapter Text

Xaden

I watched her. Day after day, challenge after challenge, Violet Sorrengail walked onto the mat and dismantled her opponents with an ease that didn’t sit right.

One was dizzy, weaving on unsteady feet. Another couldn’t keep their weapon straight, eyes darting like a drunkard’s. The next complained of headaches, and the last one—barely able to raise their fists. I’d fought enough battles to recognize the signs.

Poison.

That devious little menace.

The suspicion coiled tighter in my gut with every victory she claimed. At first, I told myself I was imagining it. But I knew better. She wasn’t just surviving these challenges—she was orchestrating them.

So, one night, long after most of the citadel had gone still, I cloaked myself in shadows and slipped through the corridors. The halls near the Professors’ Dorm wing were quiet, the challenge board posted there unofficially, out of sight of most cadets. But not her.

There she was. Violet. Standing alone, arms crossed, her head tilted with a smug curve to her mouth as she scanned the names. I leaned against the shadows, silent, watching the satisfied glint in her eyes.

When she turned, I melted into the darkness and followed her, my steps ghosting over stone. She moved quickly, her cloak brushing the edges of the walls, unaware she wasn’t alone.

As she passed through the academic wing near the sparring gym, I struck. In one swift movement, I slipped out of the shadows, wrapped an arm around her waist, and twisted her arm behind her. She squealed, a sharp sound muffled by my hand as I dragged her flush against my chest.

“Well, well, well, Violence,” I murmured, my breath brushing her ear. “Poisoning your opponents, are we?”

She gasped, breath hitching as her body tensed against mine. “Were you following me?”

“Of course,” I said, a smirk curling my lips as I loosened my grip, letting her turn in my hold. My nose brushed the soft skin just below her ear, and fuck, her scent hit me like a punch to the gut.

She shivered. “You’re insane,” she whispered.

“Maybe,” I murmured, inhaling her, barely restraining the need to bury my face in her neck. My hand slid to her hip, fingers flexing involuntarily. “But I’m not wrong.”

I released her with a smirk, stepping back just enough to let her breathe, though I stayed close, my voice a low growl. “Taking out your enemy before the battle is really smart; I’ll give that to you.”

Her face blanched, the color draining from her cheeks. I took a slow step forward, drawing a dagger from my belt, the blade gleaming softly in the dim light.

She stiffened as I brought it up, the edge grazing the delicate skin of her throat, but my touch was light, teasing. “Problem is,” I murmured, my voice low and dangerous, “if you aren’t testing yourself in here”—I scraped the blade gently down her neck, slow enough to make her pulse jump—“then you’re not going to get any better.”

Her breath hitched, her chest rising and falling rapidly. I saw the fire flare behind her eyes, and she swallowed hard.

“Then show me,” she said, her voice barely a whisper, but laced with heat and challenge.

A wicked grin curved my lips, and I let the shadows curl around us.

“Gladly,” I said.

***

“Get your dagger,” I murmured against her ear, my voice low and rough. The feel of her skin, of her small fingers laced with mine, sent fire racing through my veins.

The mat beneath us was slick with sweat and determination as I pinned her beneath me, her breath coming in short bursts, her cheeks flushed and her silver braid disheveled. The dagger trembled in her hand, but I clasped her fingers over the hilt, tightening her grip.

“You’re tiny,” I said, unable to keep the smirk from my lips.

“Well aware,” she shot back, narrowing her eyes at me.

“Then stop going for bigger moves that expose you.” I dragged the dagger down my side, the cold steel gliding along my ribs. “A rib shot would have worked just fine.”

Her lips parted slightly as I guided her hand around my back, pressing her closer, her chest rising against mine. “Kidneys are a good fit from this angle, too,” I said softly, my pulse thundering in my ears.

I swallowed hard, pushing down the treacherous thoughts flooding my mind, thoughts of her pliant beneath me, of her mouth, her body—fuck, I couldn’t think about that.

I shifted her hand to my waist, pressing her palm there. My gaze locked with hers, burning with heat and challenge. “Chances are, if your opponent is in armor, it’s weak here. Three easy places you could have struck before they’d have had time to stop you.”

“Do you hear me?” I asked, my voice husky.

She nodded, her eyes darkening with understanding—and something else.

“Good,” I whispered, leaning closer so only she could hear. “Because you can’t poison every enemy you come across. You’re not going to have time to offer tea to some Braevi gryphon rider when they come at you.”

Her lips curved into a smirk, and for a second, she almost made me forget we were supposed to be sparring.

“You’re good,” I added, my voice dipping lower. “But I’ve known better poison masters.” I didn’t say his name, but I felt the unspoken weight of it between us. “The trick is to not make it quite so obvious.”

I pulled back just enough to rise to my feet, offering her my hand. She hesitated, then slipped her small fingers into mine.

“Big mistake,” I murmured as I swirled her around, twisting her arm behind her back and pinning her face-first to the mat. Her breath caught, and I leaned closer, letting my lips graze the shell of her ear.

“Yield?” I whispered, teasing.

She laughed softly, breathless and daring. “Not a chance,” she murmured.

“You know,” she said, her voice a low, sultry drawl, “I’m thinking about what else your mouth could do besides talk so much.”

My body went rigid, a pulse of heat racing through me so fast I nearly forgot where I was and for a fraction of a second, my mind blanked.

And that was all she needed.

With a wicked glint in her eye, she bumped her head back into mine, catching me off guard. The sharp jolt knocked me off balance, and in a blur, she twisted out of my hold. Before I could recover, she was straddling me, her knees pressing into my sides, her dagger resting lightly at my throat, her face inches from mine, lips parted, and so goddamn close I could almost taste her.

“You’re good,” I murmured, my hands gripping her hips, feeling the heat of her through the layers of our clothes. My cock throbbed, hard as stone, as she leaned in, her breath mingling with mine.

“Looks like I win,” she whispered, a wicked gleam in her eyes.

I let my hands slide higher, teasing her, fighting the urge to pull her down and grind against her until we were both too far gone to care.

The air crackled between us, charged with heat and danger, and I couldn’t stop the growl that rumbled from deep in my chest.

The blade grazed my throat, light as a feather, but sharp enough to remind me she held it. Violet’s breath was hot against my ear, her voice a husky whisper that curled down my spine like smoke.

“Still think you’re in control, Riorson?” she teased, her lips brushing my skin, sending a shudder down my back.

My hands clenched tighter on her hips, my jaw flexing. “I have control,” I gritted out, though even I could hear the strain in my voice.

“Hmm,” she murmured, drawing the dagger lower, the tip tracing along the base of my throat, then down the front of my shirt. “Sure about that?”

She shifted her hips against me, a slow, deliberate grind that sent a shockwave of pure, agonizing pleasure straight through me. I sucked in a sharp breath, my cock thick and throbbing beneath her.

“Fuck,” I hissed under my breath, my fingers digging into her sides.

She did it again, her movements sinuous and teasing, her breath a soft laugh against my ear. “You’re so tense, Xaden. All that control… slipping away?”

A growl built low in my throat as she rocked against me a third time, her body pressing down, her heat against my hard length making my head spin.

“Violet,” I warned, my voice rough with need.

She laughed softly, the sound wrapping around me like a silken rope, pulling me further into her orbit.

I snapped.

With a growl that reverberated deep in my chest, I flipped her beneath me, pinning her wrists above her head, my mouth crashing down on hers. The kiss was fierce, consuming, my control finally shattering as her lips parted for me, her moan vibrating against my tongue.

Her legs wrapped around my hips, drawing me closer, grinding against me in a desperate, delicious rhythm. My shadows pulsed around us, feeding off my spiraling desire as I devoured her lips, her throat, any part of her I could reach.

I couldn’t believe I had her beneath me like this, not fighting but giving in to what we both wanted. My mouth was on hers, devouring every gasp, every whimper, as if I could taste the fire burning between us. My lips trailed down her throat, biting lightly at her collarbone, marking her in a way I’d dreamed of for far too long.

“Violet,” I groaned against her skin, her name a curse and a prayer all at once.

Her fingers fumbled at my waistband, tugging it open, her hand sliding inside to wrap around my cock. I swore under my breath, biting back the groan that threatened to escape. She stroked me, slow and deliberate, her touch nearly undoing me.

“Fuck, Violence,” I hissed, the nickname slipping out like a confession. My control was a fragile thread, fraying with every stroke of her hand.

I couldn’t hold back any longer. My fingers found the clasp of her pants, yanking them open, slipping inside to find her slick, ready for me. “Gods, you’re perfect,” I rasped, my fingers circling her clit before sliding into her heat. “So fucking wet.”

She moaned, her head falling back, giving me more of her throat to kiss, to bite. My shadows coiled tighter, straining to hold back the tide of desire. I stroked her, feeling her tremble beneath me, her breath catching. “That’s it,” I whispered, my lips brushing her ear. “Come for me, Violet.”

The sound she made when she shattered nearly undid me, that broken moan falling from her lips as her body tightened around my fingers. My heart slammed against my ribs, a guttural curse escaping my throat as I withdrew my fingers slowly, almost reverently.

I brought them to my lips, my breath hitching as I tasted her on my skin—sweet and sharp, intoxicating. "Fuck," I muttered, my voice rough with need. The flavor of her clung to my tongue, lingering like the ghost of her moans still echoing in my ears.

"You taste so good, Violence," I rasped, my tongue curling around my fingers, savoring every last drop. My mind spun wildly, the thought crashing through me like a storm. I need to taste her for real. To have her writhing under my mouth, begging me, giving herself over completely.

Her hips shifted beneath me, and I groaned at the thought, my cock throbbing painfully hard against her thigh. “I need to be inside you,” I growled, my voice raw and desperate, every restraint I had burning away in the fire of my need for her.

I kicked off my boots and shoved my pants down in a frantic rush, and she did the same, her movements just as desperate. When I sank into her, I let out a guttural curse, my hands gripping her hips hard enough to leave bruises. She was so tight, so fucking warm, and she took me in like we were made for this.

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” I groaned, the sensation of her clenching around me almost too much, almost breaking me. My hips snapped forward, thrusting into her deeper, harder. Her legs wrapped around me, her heels digging into my back, spurring me on, her body arching into mine, her voice low and breathless in my ear.

“Gods, Xaden, harder,” she gasped, her nails digging into my shoulders. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

A growl tore from my throat, primal and raw, as her words poured molten lava into my veins. My control shattered, and I drove into her harder, faster, the rhythm a frantic beat of need. “You like that?” I hissed, my voice breaking. “You like me fucking you into this mat?”

“Yes,” she moaned, her head tipping back, her silver braid unraveling beneath her. “Xaden, I love how you fill me. Fuck, don’t stop.”

I lost it completely. My hand slid between us, finding her clit, circling it mercilessly as I gritted my teeth, every muscle in my body straining. “Come for me again,” I gasped against her throat, my hips pistoning into her with reckless abandon. “Let me feel you fall apart around me.”

Her scream broke into a shattered cry as she came, her body clenching tight, pulling me into her oblivion. The moment she shattered, I wasn’t far behind. The pleasure crashed through me in violent waves, stealing my breath, sending my shadows lashing out, knocking over a weapons rack with a loud, echoing crash.

I buried my face in her neck, groaning her name against her skin as my release tore through me, my body trembling with the sheer force of it. She kept whispering filthy things in my ear, her breathless, wanton voice sending aftershocks of pleasure through me even as I tried to catch my breath.

I collapsed against her, careful not to crush her fragile body, my breath ragged, my heart pounding out of control. Her hands traced slow, soothing patterns over my back, her fingers curling possessively as though she could hold me there forever.

For a moment, there was nothing but her—the scent of her skin, the sound of her breathing, the feel of her still pulsing beneath me, her filthy whispers still echoing in my head.

And for that perfect, stolen moment, it was enough.

Chapter Text

Violet

We stayed there, sprawled on the sparring mat long after our bodies should have parted, my cheek pressed to the solid, warm rise of his chest. His breathing was still a little ragged beneath me, and I could feel the steady thud of his heart beneath my ear, soothing and impossible to ignore. My fingers traced slow, idle patterns over his shirt as we lay tangled together, clothes wrinkled and back on but hearts nowhere near settled.

He was warm, and I didn’t want to leave this—this moment where it was just us, where nothing mattered but the quiet, stolen touches and the lingering taste of him on my lips.

“You’re quiet,” he murmured, his voice rumbling against my cheek, sending a shiver through me.

I smiled softly, closing my eyes for a second. “Just thinking.”

He brushed his hand down my spine in a slow, comforting stroke. “About?”

I hesitated, then let the words tumble out, maybe because it was easier to say them when his arms were around me. “About growing up on the outposts. How I hated it. The dust, the isolation. But Dain was there, and we always found ways to make it fun. He’d dare me to climb trees, to jump from rocks. I broke so many bones, but it was worth it just to prove him wrong.”

His arms tightened just a fraction at the mention of Dain, but he said nothing. My breath caught, but I kept going, my voice softening.

“I miss Brennan,” I admitted quietly. “I wish he were still here. I always felt safe with him. And Mira—she’s the strong one. The one who always knew what to do. But I loved watching Dad here in Basgiath. He worked in the archives, and I’d sneak in just to watch him pore over ancient texts. It felt like magic, even though it was just…knowledge.” My throat thickened with the memory, and I swallowed hard.

Xaden was silent for a moment, his thumb tracing a slow circle on my hip. “I used to think knowledge was the most powerful thing,” he said quietly. “Now I’m not so sure.”

His words hung heavy between us. I turned my head to look up at him, catching the shadowed tenderness in his eyes. “What about you?” I asked softly. “What was your childhood like? Before…everything?”

He let out a slow breath. “Tyrrendor was beautiful. Aretia was breathtaking—rolling hills, wildflowers everywhere. My father and I were close. He used to take me hunting, though I hated it. But what I really remember…what I miss, is sneaking into the kitchen at night. Nelly—the cook—she’d always sneak me a slice of chocolate cake. Told me it was our little secret. Gods, that cake…” His voice cracked with something raw, and his smile turned wistful. “It’s still my favorite. No one makes it like she did.”

Something tightened in my chest at the quiet ache in his voice. The man who commanded shadows, who was lethal with just a flick of his hand, still held onto memories of stolen chocolate cake and nights filled with warmth. I pressed a soft kiss against his collarbone, my heart aching in a way I didn’t want to name.

“I’ll make you chocolate cake one day,” I whispered, surprising myself.

His breath caught, his arms tightening around me as though he could hold me closer. “You’re dangerous, Violence,” he murmured against my hair, and there was something between a laugh and a groan in his voice.

“I thought that was your line,” I teased softly, and he chuckled low and quiet, the sound rumbling beneath my cheek.

We lay there, tangled and breathless, sharing quiet touches and stolen kisses. His fingers found mine, lacing them together, and for a few precious moments, it was enough to just exist in this stolen space, knowing that the world outside was still waiting. But for now, it was just us, just heartbeats and whispered confessions and the silent promise of something that felt like it might be worth fighting for.

***

The sun filtered weakly through the high windows as Dain and I walked side by side toward the history wing. Our boots echoed softly in the buzzing hallway, and for a few moments, the conversation was easy—about classes, the absurd amount of reading, and how Rhiannon kept falling asleep during lectures.

“I’m convinced she’s dreaming about punching Jack Barlowe in the face,” Dain said, shaking his head, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

I laughed softly, but it didn’t quite reach my eyes. My thoughts were tangled, wandering far from the halls of Basgiath, far from Dain’s easy banter. They drifted to last night—Xaden’s mouth on mine, his hands on my skin, his voice whispering dark promises in my ear. The way he’d looked at me like I was the only thing in the world worth having, even as we both knew we weren’t supposed to.

My heart squeezed painfully at the memory, at the knowledge that it was already far too dangerous to keep wanting him the way I did. Dangerous, and utterly unavoidable.

“Vi?” Dain’s voice cut through my haze, and I blinked, startled, my steps slowing.

“Sorry,” I murmured, shaking my head slightly. “Just…distracted.”

He frowned, his brows drawing together as he glanced around, his voice dropping lower. “Are you okay? You’ve been…off, lately. Not like yourself.”

I forced a small smile. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

“Is it because of the challenges?” His gaze sharpened. “If someone’s giving you trouble, tell me. You know I’ll handle it.”

I swallowed, guilt twisting like a blade between my ribs. If only he knew. “It’s not that. I can handle myself.”

His jaw tensed. “You shouldn’t have to handle it all on your own.”

I stopped walking, forcing him to halt a few steps ahead of me. “Dain.” My voice was quiet but firm. “I’m not the girl you used to pull out of scrapes back at the outposts. I’m a Cadet now.I have to be able to stand on my own.”

Something flickered in his eyes—hurt, maybe, or regret—but he covered it quickly with a tight smile. “You’re strong,” he said, stepping closer, his voice gentler. “I just… I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

I met his gaze, feeling the weight of his words settle heavily between us. Once, I might have wanted to hear them—might have imagined a future where Dain and I were something real, something steady. But now, with Xaden’s touch still burning on my skin and his voice echoing in my thoughts, I couldn’t imagine it. Couldn’t imagine being with someone who saw me as fragile, as something to be protected and kept safe.

Not when I was already edging closer and closer to the cliff, about to fall for someone who was every kind of danger.

“I’ll be careful,” I promised, offering him a smile that didn’t quite reach my heart.

He nodded, stepping back to let me pass. “I’ll hold you to that.”

As we continued toward the history classroom, I couldn’t shake the guilt that gnawed at me—the lies I was telling him, the secrets I was keeping. And underneath it all, the sharp, undeniable pull that drew me back to Xaden Riorson, no matter how hard I tried to resist.

***

The commons hummed softly with the low murmur of cadets, but our table in the corner was tucked away from the noise. Rhiannon, Ridoc, Sawyer, and I sat with our heads bent over a mess of sketched diagrams, stolen notes, and scraps of parchment as we tried to strategize for the upcoming Gauntlet.

“Okay, so the fourth obstacle is still the worst,” Rhiannon said, her dark brows drawing together. “The sheer wall. It’s supposed to be impossible.”

“Unless you’ve got wings,” Ridoc quipped, wiggling his eyebrows and earning a groan from the rest of us.

“Or,” Sawyer said, tapping his quill thoughtfully against his lip, “if you’re smart about it. Use the cracks in the stone, the vines—anything to get leverage.”

“Or you could just ask your wingleader for tips,” Ridoc added, his grin stretching wide and wicked. “I hear he’s got… plenty of experience. Maybe he’ll give you a private demonstration.”

Rhiannon choked on her drink, and I shot Ridoc a glare that was more exasperated than furious. My cheeks flushed, but I forced a laugh to cover it. “Ha ha, very funny.”

Sawyer’s lips twitched as he chimed in, “I’m sure Xaden would be happy to show you how to… handle obstacles.”

I groaned, covering my face with my hand. “You two are the worst.”

Ridoc leaned forward, his voice dropping into a mock-serious tone. “But really, Vi. If anyone’s got insider knowledge, it’s gotta be your wingleader. Might as well use every advantage, right?”

I forced a smile, though my chest ached. “I think I’ll manage with good old-fashioned practice and some luck.”

Rhiannon shot me a curious look but didn’t press, instead nudging the conversation back toward strategy. “Okay, so how are we going to handle the first challenge? It’s supposed to be a test of balance and speed, right?”

We dove back into planning, each of us offering ideas, debating techniques, and sketching possible routes. But through it all, I felt the weight of my secrets pressing down, heavy and unrelenting.

I kept glancing at the door, half-expecting Xaden to appear, half-dreading it. The memory of his touch, his voice, the way he made me feel—it lingered like a bruise I couldn’t shake.

But I shoved the ache down, focusing on Rhiannon’s determined gaze, Sawyer’s quiet encouragement, Ridoc’s irreverent humor.

I couldn’t afford to let my heart lead me into ruin. Not with the Gauntlet looming, not when I needed every shred of focus and strength just to survive.

I would survive.

Even if it meant leaving pieces of myself behind.

Chapter Text

Xaden

The wind was crisp as we soared through the late summer sky. It was the first week of September and the faint hint of autumn was biting at the edges of the breeze. Below us, the outposts dotted the landscape like scattered chess pieces, reminders of the leadership’s plan to prepare us for life after Basgiath. But it wasn’t the outposts that held my attention.

“Enjoying the view, Riorson?” Sgaeyl’s voice coiled through my mind, the wry amusement in her tone unmistakable.

I rolled my eyes and adjusted my grip on her harness. “I’ll enjoy it more when we land.”

She huffed a low, almost draconic laugh. “You’re not nearly as composed as you think, especially now that we’re meeting the brother of the silver-haired menace you can’t keep your hands off of.”

“I’ve met Brennan before,” I muttered, but the heat in my cheeks betrayed me.

“Not while you were entangled with his little sister,” she teased mercilessly. “This should be entertaining.”

I didn’t dignify her with a response as Garrick and Bodhi flanked me, their dragons banking slightly to match our descent. The clearing we’d agreed upon came into view—secluded, ringed by towering pines, and far enough from prying eyes.

We landed smoothly, the rustle of wings filling the crisp air. Sgaeyl’s scales shimmered in the dappled light, her massive form a stark contrast to the solemnity that settled over the clearing.

Brennan was already there, leaning against a tree, his arms crossed and a grim expression on his face. He looked older than I remembered, the lines of worry deeper, his gaze sharper.

“Brennan,” I greeted, stepping forward as Garrick and Bodhi dismounted.

Before he could speak, I cut in. “Violet’s in the Riders Quadrant.”

His face twisted with disbelief, his fists clenching as he surged forward. “She’s what? My sister—there? Of course my mother would pull something like this,” he spat bitterly, his voice rising with each word. “But how could she do that to Violet? She’s always been so damn fragile—she’s not built for this, not with that body—”

“She’s everything but weak,” I cut in sharply, my voice a little too defensive, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.

Garrick snorted from behind me, and I shot him a glare.

“Not weak?” Brennan’s voice rose, sharp and biting. “She’s fragile, Xaden. She always has been. Mira and I spent our whole lives protecting her. And now she’s there, in Basgiath, surrounded by people who would rather see her dead than breathing.”

“She’s holding her own,” I said, my tone low but steady, though a flicker of guilt twisted in my gut.

Bodhi coughed into his fist, smirking. “I’d say she’s being kept pretty close. Nothing’s going to happen to her while Xaden’s watching her every move.”

Brennan’s eyes snapped to him, his face thunderous. “Don’t joke about this, Bodhi. You know what she means to me.”

“I’m not joking,” Bodhi said, his smirk fading but his eyes glinting with amusement. “She’s got him so wrapped up he can’t see straight.”

“I swear to the gods, if you touch her, Riorson,” Brennan growled, his voice low and lethal. “I will gut you myself.”

I held his gaze, feeling Sgaeyl’s simmering amusement in the back of my mind. “Noted.”

The air between us crackled with tension, but then Brennan’s expression shifted, his lips pressing into a thin line. “We don’t have time for this. I’m risking everything being here, and we need to talk about the Venin.”

I nodded, though the heaviness in my chest remained. Violet. Even here, miles away from her, she was a weight in my mind, a pull I couldn’t ignore.

“Let’s move,” Brennan said, leading us toward the heart of the clearing.

As we followed him, Garrick muttered under his breath, “You’re so fucked.”

I shot him a look, but the truth of his words settled like a stone in my stomach.

Brennan’s expression hardened, the familiar lines of grief and rage tightening his face. “There was an attack near Suniva,” he said quietly. “Venin. Dozens dead. Mostly civilians.”

The weight of his words sank in. I clenched my fists at my sides, fighting the urge to curse aloud. The attacks were becoming more frequent—more brazen. “Poromiel needs more weapons,” I said grimly.

Brennan nodded. “We need the Luminary from Viscount Tecarus. But the odds of that happening now are... slim.” His voice sharpened with accusation. “Especially since you called off your betrothal to Catriona this summer.”

Garrick winced. Bodhi stiffened.

I didn’t answer. There was nothing to say. Not without telling him about Violet—about how one night in Chantara with her ruined me for anyone else.

Brennan exhaled roughly, then pulled a worn map from his pack and pointed to a spot between Zolya and Basgiath. “Here’s the next drop point. Same time next week. Get the weapons there without drawing attention.”

I nodded, committing the location to memory. We exchanged curt farewells, but just as I mounted Sgaeyl, Brennan’s voice rang out behind me.

“Xaden!”

I turned, and his expression was stone. “Don’t drag Violet into this mess. Not yet.”

The warning in his tone curled around my spine like a noose.

He stepped forward, his voice dropping into a growl. “I meant what I said. If you touch her, I’ll gut you.”

His fists clenched. “And if you hurt her—I’ll do worse.”

Sgaeyl’s voice sliced through my mind, her tone dripping with amusement. “You’re so fucked.”

I gritted my teeth. “Everyone has to stop fucking saying that.”

As we rose into the sky, guilt gnawed at my insides, a cold ache that refused to be ignored. My fists tightened on the reins as I glanced back at the clearing, Brennan’s threats echoing in my ears.

I’d meant to keep my distance. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t pull Violet into this.

But the truth was, I already had.

And with all the lies and secrets I was keeping, how the hell could I ever deserve her?

***

We landed at Basgiath just as the last light of day bled from the sky, shadows stretching long across the Vale. Bodhi and Garrick flanked me as we dismounted, Sgaeyl huffing and flicking her tail behind us.

“I’ll catch up,” I said as we stepped inside, my voice low, already scanning the walkways ahead. They exchanged a knowing glance, but to their credit, said nothing. Bodhi clapped my shoulder once, then they both veered off toward the barracks.

I waited until they were gone, until the courtyard was nearly empty except for a few stragglers returning from study hall. Then I moved. My feet carried me toward the commons, my steps slow, measured, though my pulse raced.

I caught sight of her just as she emerged from the bathroom—her hair braided loosely over her shoulder, wearing soft, comfortable pants and a black sweater that made my fists clench. She was radiant in the lamplight, her smile tentative but sweet as she caught sight of me.

“Xaden,” she breathed, stepping toward me.

I couldn’t let her touch me. Not now. If she touched me, I wouldn’t be able to do this.

I seized her wrist gently, pulling her into the shadowed corridor. Her lips parted in surprise, but she didn’t pull away. Her scent, soft and familiar, filled my lungs, threatening to shatter every ounce of resolve I had left.

“We can’t do this anymore,” I said, the words like ash on my tongue.

“What?” she whispered, her brows drawing together.

“It’s not right,” I forced out, each word tearing a strip from my heart. “If anyone notices…there’ll be talk. They’ll use you to get to me. I won’t let that happen.”

Her eyes filled with unshed tears, her voice cracking as she tried to argue. “But we’re careful—”

“No,” I cut her off, my voice sharper than I intended. Her face crumpled slightly, and it nearly broke me. “I can’t risk your safety.”

“Don’t do this,” she pleaded, her voice breaking, her hand trembling in mine. “Please, Xaden—”

“Don’t,” I growled, pain knotting in my chest. If she kept speaking, if she looked at me with those eyes… I wouldn’t be able to walk away.

Her voice trembled, anger flaring beneath the hurt. “You’re a coward.”

Her words hit like a blade to the gut, but I couldn’t argue. Instead, I silenced her with one last, desperate kiss, tasting her tears on my lips. It was a kiss of goodbye, of everything I couldn’t say, of everything I wanted but couldn’t have.

Then I tore myself away, my hands shaking as I released her, stepping back into the shadows.

“Goodbye, Violence,” I rasped, my voice breaking on her name.

And I walked away, leaving a piece of my soul behind with her in the darkness.

Chapter Text

Violet

I was barely holding myself together as I rounded the corner on the way back to the barracks. My hands trembled, my vision blurred, but I was determined not to cry—not here, not now.

But as I nearly collided with Rhiannon, Ridoc, and Sawyer in the dimly lit corridor, my composure shattered.

“Vi?” Ridoc’s voice was low, laced with worry, as he stepped forward. “What’s wrong?”

I couldn’t speak. My throat closed up, and before I could stop myself, I broke, collapsing into Ridoc’s arms as a sob tore from my chest. His arms wrapped tightly around me, grounding me, while Rhiannon’s hand landed gently on my back.

They exchanged worried glances, and without a word, they guided me into a nearby storage room. We sank to the floor, Ridoc’s arm still firmly around my shoulders while I wiped at my tears with shaking hands.

“What happened?” Rhi asked softly, her eyes filled with concern.

I swallowed, my voice hoarse. “He—Xaden—he said we can’t see each other anymore. That it’s too dangerous. He just...ended it.”

Sawyer’s jaw clenched. “That fucker. I’m going to kill him.”

Rhiannon nodded, her lips thinning in anger. “I’ll help you bury the body.”

A weak laugh escaped me, more a sob than a giggle, but it loosened the tight knot in my chest just a little. I wiped my cheeks again, though the tears kept falling.

“I just don’t get it,” I whispered. “I don’t understand why he’s doing this. One minute he’s there, and the next he’s...gone. Like it didn’t mean anything.”

“Vi, he’s an idiot,” Ridoc said firmly, giving me a light shake. “He doesn’t deserve you if he’s too much of a coward to hold onto something this good.”

“Exactly,” Rhiannon added, her tone fierce. “You’re amazing, and if he’s too blind to see it, then that’s his loss.”

I bit my lip, my heart twisting as the words slipped out. “We… we slept together a few nights ago.”

The three of them froze for a beat before Ridoc’s jaw practically hit the floor. “Wait, what ?”

“You heard her,” Rhiannon said, her eyebrows shooting up, eyes wide with surprise. “When? Where?”

I sighed, scrubbing a hand over my face. “In the sparring gym. It just… happened.”

Sawyer let out a low whistle, leaning back in his chair. “Well, shit. That makes things even messier, huh?”

Rhiannon’s fierce expression softened. “Vi, you don’t have to be embarrassed about it. If anything, it just proves how much he cares—even if he’s too much of a stubborn asshole to admit it.”

Ridoc groaned dramatically. “I don’t know whether to be jealous or to feel sorry for you.”

A watery laugh escaped me, the tension easing just a little. “I didn’t plan for it, okay? And now he’s acting like it never happened. Like I don’t exist.”

“We’re still going to help you through this,” Sawyer said firmly. “With or without him.”

I sniffled, feeling a fresh wave of gratitude flood through me. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you guys.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” Rhiannon promised, pulling me into a tight hug.

We sat there on the floor, the four of us, tucked away from the world, and for the first time that night, I felt like maybe I could breathe again. The ache in my chest was still there, but it was bearable with them by my side.

Rhiannon reached out, squeezing my hand. “Exactly. You’ve got us, Vi. And you’ve got yourself. Let’s focus on getting through the Gauntlet first, then you can figure out what to do about broody wingleader later.”

I nodded, the warmth of their support bolstering me. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

***

The sun rose over Basgiath a week later, with the kind of crisp clarity that made everything seem sharper, more unforgiving. I stood at the mirror in the barracks, braiding my hair into a coronet, pinning it into place with practiced fingers. My hands moved on autopilot, but my thoughts were a mess.

I secured the last pin, drawing a deep breath as I turned, fastening the dragon scale corset around my waist. The weight of it was familiar by now, a comfort in its way. If I could survive the last few weeks, I could survive this. I had to.

I left the barracks, walking through formation, my head held high even though every nerve in my body was strung tight. The air crackled with the tension of waiting, of candidates bracing themselves for the reading of the Death Roll.

Captain Fitzgibbons’ voice cut through the morning air, calm and final. “... Dougal Luperco and Simone Castenede. We command their souls to Malek.”

A shiver slid down my spine. I closed my eyes for a heartbeat, silently acknowledging the names, even though I hadn’t known them. Each death was a reminder of what we were risking here, every day.

When I opened my eyes, my gaze met Xaden’s. His black eyes locked on mine from across the formation, unreadable. My throat tightened, but I forced myself to stay expressionless, even though all I wanted to do was cross the space between us and bury myself in his arms. His stare held me there, steady, until I couldn’t bear it anymore and finally looked away.

“First-year squad, on me!” Dain’s voice rang out. “Gauntlet practice.”

I squared my shoulders, pushing away the burn of regret that seared through me. I would not let him— this —distract me. I had to focus.

I would not die today.

Chapter Text

Violet

I tilted my head back, squinting up at the steep ridgeline that loomed above us like a jagged scar against the sky. Fear coiled in my stomach. “Well, that’s…” I swallowed.

Rhiannon stood beside me, mirroring my awe-slash-dread. “Amazing,” Aurelie grinned, practically bouncing on her toes. “I’ve been waiting years for this!”

Rhiannon and I exchanged a look. “You think that hellscape looks amazing?” Rhiannon asked.

“My dad used to set up obstacle courses like this all the time,” Aurelie said, her black eyes bright. “It’s an adrenaline rush.”

I eyed the twisting, climbing nightmare of logs, swinging poles, and rocky ledges. “Yeah, sure. Adrenaline rush.” More like a death trap. But then again, wasn’t everything here?

Aurelie pointed halfway up. “Watch out for those big posts. They spin and can crush you.”

Rhiannon groaned. “Perfect. Just what I was hoping for.”

I bit my lip, trying to focus. I could practically feel Xaden’s gaze on me, even though he wasn’t here. His voice haunted my thoughts, his hands on my skin, his mouth whispering my name. Damn it, Sorrengail, focus. He wouldn’t want you distracted. He’d want you to survive.

Ridoc stood nearby, blowing into his hands. “Still not sure why they call it the Gauntlet.”

“To weed out the weaklings,” Tynan sneered from his other side, giving me a pointed look.

I clenched my fists. 

“Knock it the fuck off,” Ridoc snapped, stepping in before I could. His voice was sharper than I’d ever heard it.

Tynan blinked, surprised. “What’s your problem?”

Ridoc didn’t back down. “You think because you’re friends with Barlowe and Seifert you can treat your squad like shit?”

“Exactly. Squadmate,” Tynan said, gesturing at the obstacle course. “Our times aren’t just ranked individually—they count as a squad. Presentation order matters. You want to be last?”

He had a point, a shitty one, but it was there. Still, I wasn’t going to let that stop me. I squared my shoulders. If I couldn’t keep my heart from breaking over Xaden, I could at least make sure I didn’t let my squad down.

“They’re not timing us for Presentation today, asshole,” Ridoc said, stepping toward Tynan.

“Stop,” Sawyer cut in, shoving Tynan hard enough to make him stumble back. “Take it from someone who made it through last year—your time doesn’t mean anything. The last cadet to walk in bonded just fine.”

“Little bitter about that, aren’t you?” Tynan sneered.

Sawyer ignored him. “Besides, it’s not called the Gauntlet because it weeds out cadets.”

Professor Emetterio appeared behind us, his voice cool. “It’s called the Gauntlet because it guards the Vale—and because real gauntlets, metal gloves, are slippery. The name stuck.”

He eyed us, flipping through his notebook. “Sawyer, you’re up first. Then Pryor, Trina, Tynan, Rhiannon, Ridoc, Violet, Aurelie, and Luca.” He shot a smirk our way. “Your squad’s the only one still intact since Parapet. Your squad leader must be proud. Wait here.”

As he moved off, Tynan shot me a sneer. “Aetos is especially proud of Sorrengail.”

I clenched my jaw. “If you want to talk shit, fine. But leave Dain out of it.”

“Like it doesn’t bother you that our squad leader’s fucking one of us?” Tynan said, voice rising.

“I’m not—” I started, but indignation flooded me. “Honestly, it’s none of your godsdamned business who I’m sleeping with, Tynan.”

Though, gods, if only it was Xaden instead of the accusations of Dain. My chest clenched, heat flushing my skin.

“It is if you’re getting special treatment!” Luca added.

“For fuck’s sake,” Rhiannon groaned, rubbing her forehead. “Luca, Tynan, shut it. They’re not sleeping together. They’ve been friends forever. Or did you not know his dad is her mom’s aide?”

Tynan blinked. “Really?”

“Really,” I sighed, studying the course ahead and shoving thoughts of Xaden aside. His name echoed in my mind, the taste of his kiss lingering. But I had to focus. This was about survival now.

“Barlowe said—” Tynan began.

“And that’s your first mistake,” Ridoc cut in. “Listening to that sadistic asshole.”

“Here we go!” Professor Emetterio called out, returning. “You’ll get your time at the top of the course if you make it. Nine practice sessions before Presentation. That’ll decide if you’re worthy.”

“Wouldn’t it make sense to start right after Parapet?” Rhiannon asked.

“No,” Professor Emetterio said. “The timing is part of the challenge. Any advice, Sawyer?”

Sawyer’s gaze swept over the treacherous course. “There are ropes every six feet along the cliff. If you start to fall, grab one. It’ll cost you thirty seconds, but death costs more.”

“Awesome,” I muttered, eyeing the treacherous Gauntlet.

“I mean, there’s a perfectly good set of steps over there,” Ridoc pointed out, gesturing toward the steep staircase carved into the cliffside.

“Stairs are for reaching the flight field after Presentation,” Professor Emetterio said, flicking his wrist at the course. The obstacles shifted and spun to life—the log at the start, the twisting posts, the rotating wheel. The whole thing felt more like a death trap than an obstacle course.

“Every one of the five ascents mimics challenges you’ll face in battle,” Emetterio continued, his voice cutting through the rising wind. “Balance on your dragon, strength during maneuvers, stamina for ground combat.” He pointed to the steep ninety-degree ramp at the top. “And the ability to mount your dragon in an instant.”

A chunk of granite dislodged from one of the spinning posts, tumbling down the course and smashing through the obstacles before landing right in front of us.

“Whoa,” Trina whispered, her wide eyes fixed on the pulverized rock.

I glanced her way. She was quiet but determined, and the sight of her made me think of how I used to look before all of this—small, uncertain. “You all right?” I asked quietly.

She nodded, swallowing hard. “What if we can’t make it up?” Luca’s voice cut through, her usual arrogance softened by real fear.

“There’s no alternative,” Emetterio said. “If you don’t make it, you don’t make it to Presentation. Take your position, Sawyer.”

Sawyer stepped to the front, his jaw set. “After he finishes, you’ll all start every sixty seconds. And…go!”

Sawyer sprinted forward, moving across the log with practiced ease, navigating the obstacles like they were nothing. He ducked and rolled through the wheel, leapt between the giant hanging balls, swung across the metal rods, and scaled the shaking pillars. My pulse quickened watching him.

By the fourth ascent, I dared to hope the course might be manageable—until he faced the chimney-like formation. He paused. “You got this!” Rhiannon shouted, her voice echoing.

Sawyer launched himself upward, arms and legs spread, climbing the walls of the chimney with sheer determination. He reached the top and dropped down in front of the final obstacle—the massive, nearly vertical ramp. My breath caught as he sprinted, momentum carrying him two-thirds of the way up. Just before he slipped, he grabbed the lip, hauling himself over the edge.

Rhiannon and I cheered, breathless with relief. Sawyer made it.

Now it was our turn.

“Perfect technique!” Professor Emetterio called. “That’s exactly what you should all be doing.”

“Perfect, and yet he was still passed over at Threshing,” Luca snarked. “Guess the dragons have some sense of taste.”

“Give it a rest, Luca,” Rhiannon shot back.

I swallowed, watching Sawyer’s flawless run. If he didn’t bond, what hope was there for the rest of us? My thoughts trailed, imagining Xaden’s smirk if he saw me struggling here.

“I’m too short for the ramp,” I whispered to Rhiannon.

“You’re wicked fast,” she said. “Get your speed up, and I bet momentum will carry you to the top.”

Ahead, Pryor faltered on the swinging rods, while Trina nearly fell at the pillars, her scream echoing down the cliffside. “You can do it!” Sawyer shouted from above.

“They go in opposite directions!” Aurelie called.

Tynan’s start was shaky, and soon he was clinging to one of the buoy balls, his arms straining.

“You have to keep moving, Tynan!” I shouted, though I doubted he could hear.

“Good thing this is only practice,” Ridoc said, smirking. “What’s the matter, Tynan? Scared of heights? Who’s the liability now?”

“Stop,” I elbowed him lightly. “Just because he’s a dick doesn’t mean you have to be.”

“But he’s giving me so much material to work with,” Ridoc grinned as he moved to his start position.

“Swing to the next one!” Trina suggested.

“I can’t!” Tynan’s voice cracked.

“Ridoc, start!” Emetterio ordered, and Ridoc took off.

“Rhi!” I called up. “The rope is between the first and second!” She nodded and leapt for the buoy ball, swinging gracefully. My chest tightened with admiration—and a hint of envy. Xaden’s voice from my memory teased me about keeping my balance.

Gravel crunched under my boots as I stepped into position. My heart raced like a trapped bird.

“Violet, begin!” Emetterio called.

I bolted up the first ascent, barely thinking. “Quick feet,” I muttered, crossing the spinning log and leaping between granite columns. The rotating wheel loomed, and I focused on the timing. One pass, two—on the third I leapt, diving through the opening and landing on the gravel.

The buoy balls were next, and I couldn’t let my shaking hands cost me. I launched myself onto the first ball, clutching it near the chain like Rhiannon had. My shoulders screamed, but I forced the ball to swing, repeating the motion until I reached the fifth ball. With one last burst of strength, I threw myself sideways, landing hard but solid on the gravel path.

I braced myself at the edge of the next ascent, reciting dragon facts under my breath just to keep my nerves steady. “Green dragons, keen intellect, perfect siege weapons, especially clubtails,” I whispered.

Aurelie leapt onto the first buoy ball below and called up, “Are you… studying?”

“Calms me down,” I shot back, gripping the first iron rail. My shoulders ached as I worked my way hand-over-hand, momentum building. “The Scribe Quadrant’s looking pretty good right now,” I muttered, launching for the next rail.

Terror clawed at me as the first clang of iron made my grip slip, but I bit it back, determined. “Orange dragons, unpredictable, always a risk,” I reminded myself, throwing my weight forward to grab the rail and swing on.

My right hand slipped, slamming my cheek into the cliffside. Pain bloomed, my ears ringing, vision blurring. “Violet!” Rhiannon’s voice cut through the haze. “Next to you! The rope is next to you!” Aurelie’s call grounded me, and I grabbed the rope, steadying myself. I wasn’t letting this course beat me today. Pushing off, I swung back to the rail, climbed to the next, and finally let go, landing on the shaking pillar with a rattling thud.

Aurelie landed behind me, her face lit with adrenaline. “This is the best!”

“You clearly need a healer,” I gasped, shaking my head but smiling despite myself.

We faced the twisting staircase posts next. Aurelie grinned. “Just run straight across. Trust me. If you pause, you’ll roll right off.”

I nodded, bouncing on my feet. Heart hammering, I bolted across, feet hitting each post only long enough to push off for the next. I hit the other side, breathless but victorious. “Yes!” I shouted, raising a fist.

“Go, Violet!” Aurelie called. “Here I come!” Her agility outpaced mine, but a roar overhead made me look up—just in time to see the underbelly of a Green Daggertail.

Aurelie wobbled, her foot slipping. Horror twisted in my gut as she tumbled forward, her belly slamming into the spinning log. “Aurelie!” I lunged, fingertips skimming the post. Our eyes met—shock, terror—and then the post rolled her away, and she fell. Halfway down the cliff.

Chapter Text

Xaden

The wind whipped around the clearing at the drop point, cutting through the early September air as Garrick, Bodhi, and I waited in silence. Sgaeyl shifted behind me, her massive form tense, eyes sharp on the horizon.

“First drop, huh?” Garrick nudged Bodhi, who was practically vibrating with nervous excitement.

Bodhi grinned, his teeth flashing. “Finally get to prove I’m more than a pretty face.”

I rolled my shoulders, my thoughts far from their banter. Presentation was approaching fast, and with it, the Gauntlet. I couldn’t stop picturing Violet—her delicate frame, her fierce determination. I knew she’d push herself too hard, trying to prove she was stronger than everyone thought.

“She’ll be fine,” Bodhi said quietly, catching my glance.

I didn’t respond, jaw tightening. My heart was a storm, torn between my need to protect her and the weight of the secrets I carried.

A gust of wind swept through, and the beating of gryphon wings echoed above. Dust kicked up as the flyers landed, their mounts clawing at the ground.

I muttered a curse under my breath as I spotted Cat dismounting next to her sister. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Garrick grinned wide. “Oh, this is gonna be good.”

The riders approached cautiously, their wary eyes darting to our dragons. Syrena stepped forward, her posture composed. “Xaden. Garrick. Bodhi.”

We nodded, Garrick offering his usual cocky grin. “Syrena.”

Then Cat sauntered up, her smile slow and predatory, her voice honeyed. “Xaden. It’s been too long.” She batted her lashes, her magic pressing against my shields like a velvet blade. I slammed the door on her power, refusing to let her manipulate my feelings.

“Don’t,” I said flatly, my voice steel.

Bodhi hefted the heavy pack of daggers and dropped it at Syrena’s feet. “Twenty daggers. Freshly smuggled.”

One of the flyers scoffed. “That’s it? We’ve got gryphons falling out of the sky on the border, people dying. You think twenty daggers is going to hold them back?”

I stepped closer, my voice low and lethal. “If we bring more, it’ll get noticed. You think it’s easy sneaking this much steel past the wards? We’re risking our lives for you. Don’t push it.”

Tension stretched between us, thick as the smoke rising from the gryphons’ wings. Finally, Syrena nodded, though her mouth was tight with frustration.

But Cat wasn’t done. She slinked closer, her fingers grazing my bicep, sending a surge of fury and revulsion through me. Sgaeyl’s growl rippled through my mind like an earthquake, promising fire and ash if Cat didn’t back off.

“I know you can’t possibly be sated,” she murmured, her voice a husky purr. “Not when you’re used to something more… satisfying. I could—”

Garrick barked a laugh. “Oh, trust me, he’s more than fine in that department.”

Cat’s face twisted with jealousy, her gaze snapping to Garrick. “Stay out of this.”

I turned slowly, my voice dropping to a dangerous murmur, sharp as a blade. “I already found what I need. And it’s not you, and it never will be.”

Her lips parted in shock, the faintest sound escaping her throat before she shut it with a click.

My shadows coiled tighter at my feet, a silent, lethal warning. “So unless you want to see what happens to people who can’t take a hint, I suggest you step the fuck back.”

Cat’s face flushed crimson, fury and embarrassment contorting her features. Just as she opened her mouth to snap something back, Syrena’s hand closed firmly around her upper arm, yanking her aside.

“Oh, come on, Cat,” Syrena murmured coolly, her voice pitched low but audible enough for us all. “Stop embarrassing yourself. He’s not interested in you. He’s not even thinking about you.”

Cat’s jaw clenched, her nostrils flaring as Syrena gave her a tug with a smirk that held just the right amount of venom. “Maybe you should try actually earning someone’s attention for once instead of throwing yourself at them.”

Garrick let out a bark of laughter, and Bodhi’s grin split his face, though he wisely stepped back to let the drama unfold. Cat’s face twisted with rage, but she said nothing more as Syrena forcibly led her away, her dragon wings ruffling in irritation behind her.

I couldn’t help the corner of my mouth lifting slightly, my thoughts inevitably spiraling back to a certain silver-haired menace who had already claimed far too much of me.

The tension stretched, brittle as ice. Finally, Syrena sighed, her voice cool but resigned. “Same time next month?”

I nodded, my voice clipped. “Agreed.”

We turned away, the weight of unspoken threats thick in the air. As I mounted Sgaeyl, her deep voice slid into my mind, curling with a possessive menace. “ If she touches you again, I’ll turn her into ash.”

I couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped me, though it was bitter and hollow at the edges. “ Stay out of my head, Sgaeyl,” I muttered.

“You don’t mean that, she rumbled smugly as we lifted off, her wings slicing through the crisp air. I’m far more entertaining than your own swirling thoughts, especially those about the little silver-haired menace you’re so desperate to stay away from.”

I exhaled sharply, my jaw tightening. But her teasing faded into the background as my mind spun, spiraling around Violet. Her smile, her laugh, the way her eyes sparked with defiance one moment and softened with heat the next. The sound of her voice, the way her fingers had tangled in my hair, her breathless moans against my mouth…

My fists tightened on Sgaeyl’s reins as we climbed higher, the sun setting behind the mounntains. I’m a fucking disaster. I told myself this was the right choice. That I had to protect her, to keep her safe from this world of shadows and secrets. But even as I repeated the excuses, the longing twisted in my gut, sharp and unrelenting. I miss her.

“You’re an idiot,” Sgaeyl drawled, her wings tilting effortlessly as she glided. “ You think pushing her away will make the feelings stop? You know better than that, Riorson.”

“Don’t start with me,” I gritted out. The sight of Basgiath rising in the distance made my chest ache, as if the citadel itself was mocking me for my weakness.

“You think too much,” Sgaeyl said, her tone almost gentle beneath the humor. “ You should be enjoying the fact you’ve found someone who challenges you. Someone who makes you feel.”

“She’ll get hurt,” I said quietly. The words felt heavy, like stones falling from my lips.

“She’s stronger than you give her credit for and you know it,” Sgaeyl countered. “ And you? You’re a fool if you think you can keep your distance forever. You’re already hers.”

I let out a harsh breath, my throat tightening. “ I don’t know how to stay away. And I can’t let her get caught in this.”

“Then stop pretending you can, she said, her tone almost fond. You’re not fooling anyone.”

I pressed my lips together, swallowing hard against the rising tide of guilt and desire. “ I can’t stop wanting her. I never could.”

As we soared closer to Basgiath, Sgaeyl’s low, amused hum wrapped around me, her shadows trailing behind us like a dark cloak. “ You’re a disaster, Riorson. And she’s your undoing.”

And as much as I wanted to deny it, I knew she was right.

***

I flew with Garrick and Bodhi, the chill air of the evening biting through even the thick leather of my flight jacket. We were nearly there when I spotted her.

The small figure stood alone on top of the tower that held the burn pit, her silver braid catching the last light of the setting sun. I didn’t need Sgaeyl to confirm it—I knew it was Violet.

“You’re worrying again,” Sgaeyl said, amusement in her mind voice, tinged with that sharp, draconic pragmatism. “ Cath mentioned Aurelie Donans died during second squad’s Gauntlet practice today. She wasn’t one of her closest friends, but she likely saw it.”

Relief tightened in my chest, only to be followed by the familiar churn of helpless frustration. I couldn’t shield her from this. No matter what I did, no matter how much I wanted to.

WDeath is inevitable here,” Sgaeyl continued, her voice cool, almost indifferent. “ If she can’t handle it, she’s not meant to be a rider.”

I clenched my jaw, her words igniting a flash of heat that curled along my spine. “ She’s stronger than you think,” I muttered.

We spiraled down to the Flight field and dismounted, the motions automatic. Garrick and Bodhi fell in step beside me, talking about weapon drops and border tensions, but my mind was locked on the image of her standing alone, the glow of the firelight casting flickering shadows across her face.

“We have to get more weapons out there,” Bodhi said, his tone low and urgent. “Poromiel can’t hold if we don’t push more through.”

“We can’t,” Garrick snapped. “It’s too risky. You know that.”

I barely registered their words. My focus was on her. The way she stood there, quiet and still against the blaze of the burn pit, made my chest ache with something raw and unnamable.

We stepped into the courtyard.

“There has to be something more we can do,” Bodhi pressed, glancing at me for support.

“We’re doing everything we can,” Garrick bit back.

I stopped mid-step, the set of my shoulders going rigid as a ripple of awareness passed through me. She was there, watching me. I could feel it in the way the air seemed to thicken, the faintest whisper of her scent teasing my senses.

Garrick noticed, pausing beside me. “What’s wrong?” he asked, glancing toward the courtyard where a couple was tangled together near the shadows. “Another dumbass making out in public?”

“Go on. I’ll meet you inside,” I said, my voice tight with something I couldn’t control.

“You sure?” Bodhi asked, frowning.

“Go,” I ordered, not moving until they finally left, their steps echoing away toward the barracks.

Only then did I turn, facing the tower where she stood. The weight of everything we hadn’t said coiled in my gut, a sharp ache that pressed against every breath I took.

“I know you know I’m here,” Violet’s voice cut through the stillness, soft and sharp all at once.

I swallowed hard, shadows curling restlessly at my feet, responding to the mess of need and regret twisting inside me. My heart kicked hard against my ribs, her voice like a blade sliding between bone and muscle.

Zihnal help me, I’m a fucking disaster, I thought as I raised my gaze, locking on the woman I couldn’t stop wanting.

“And please don’t prattle on about commanding the dark. I’m not in the mood tonight.”

I folded my arms, leaning against the stone archway. “No questions about where I’ve been?”

Her shrug was tired, worn, but still held that stubborn edge I couldn’t help but admire. “I honestly don’t care.”

I tilted my head, studying her. The moonlight caught the glint of her hair, the set of her jaw. “You really don’t, do you?”

“Nope. It’s not like I’m not out after curfew myself.” She sighed heavily, rubbing her shoulder like it ached.

“What are you doing out after curfew, first-year?”

“Debating running away,” she shot back. “How about you? Feel like sharing?”

“The same,” I said with a smirk.

“I just need to know what my chances are here.” She bristled, her hands curling into fists.

“That’s the oddest way I’ve ever been hit on—”

“Not my chances with you, you conceited prick!” She pushed past me, but I caught her wrist lightly, feeling the pulse flutter beneath my fingers.

“Chances at what?” I asked, stepping just close enough for her shoulder to brush my arm.

“Nothing,” she bit out, her voice tight with frustration.

“Chances at what?” I repeated, my voice low but firm. “Do not make me ask three times.”

Her scent hit me—sweet and sharp, like citrus and something softer, something unmistakably her . I nearly lost my grip on my control.

“At living through all of this! I can’t make it up the damned Gauntlet.” Her voice cracked, her tug against my hold half-hearted.

“I see,” I murmured, my chest tightening, the weight of what she wasn’t saying pressing against me.

“No, you don’t.”

“You know the problem with this place?” she says, her voice tight as she tries to pull her wrist from my grasp.

I hold fast, feeling her pulse quicken under my thumb. So fragile, yet so fierce.

“Besides you touching things that don’t belong to you?” she said, her voice low and barbed. The words stung, sharper than any blade, but they were true. Damn her for being right.

Her eyes narrowed, stubborn and shining with defiance.

“I’m sure you’re going to tell me,” I said, my tone wry but my heart twisting with something I refused to name.

I let her go, reluctantly, but the ghost of her warmth lingers on my skin. I should walk away. I should turn my back and remind myself why I’m doing this, why I need to keep her at arm’s length. But the draw of her, of that fire beneath her delicate frame, keeps me rooted.

“Hope,” she says before I can think to stop her.

I tilt my head, frowning. “Hope?”

“Hope.” She nods, her voice soft, threaded with bitterness. “Someone like you would never get it, but I knew coming here was a death sentence. It didn’t matter that I’ve been trained my entire life to enter the Scribe Quadrant; when General Sorrengail gives an order, you can’t exactly ignore it.”

Her words hit me like a blade to the gut, carving out a truth I hadn’t let myself admit. I clenched my jaw, my mind warring between the need to protect her and the undeniable pull of her voice, her presence.

“Sure you can,” I say, too flippant, trying to shove down the guilt clawing at my chest. “You just might not like the consequences.”

She rolls her eyes, but instead of stepping back, she leans in—just slightly, just enough to make my pulse spike. I could drown in her. Right here, right now, I could forget every secret I’m keeping, every promise I’ve made.

“I knew what the odds were, and I came anyway,” she says, her voice cracking. “Concentrating on that tiny percentage of a chance that I would live. And then I make it almost two months and I get…” Her jaw tightens. “Hopeful.”

I swallow hard, resisting the urge to reach for her again, to pull her into me and tell her she’s not alone. “Ah. And then you lose a squadmate, and you can’t quite get up the chimney, and you give up. I’m starting to see. It’s not a flattering picture, but if you want to run off to the Scribe Quadrant—”

Her gasp is sharp, fear flashing in her eyes. “How do you know about that?”

Shit. My lips curl into a smirk, a defense mechanism to mask the tight coil of dread in my gut. “I know everything that goes on here.” Shadows swirl closer, as if drawn to her panic, feeding off her desperation. Gods, if she only knew how close I am to saying fuck it all and pulling her into my world for good.

“Shadows, remember?” I say softly, letting the darkness gather around us. “They hear everything, see everything, conceal everything.”

The world outside her—the world that should matter—fades into nothing. It’s just her and me. Always has been. And for one terrifying, exhilarating second, I want to give in.

Her eyes shimmered, a thin veil of tears clinging to her lashes. The moment she spoke, her voice cracked under the weight of her guilt.
“She fell. She fell and I couldn’t do anything about it.”

I stood there, frozen in the darkness, hearing the way her voice trembled, and something in me fractured.

I hesitated, but then I gave in. “Come here,” I said, my voice low but gentle, the words more of a command than a request.

Her resolve snapped, her shoulders crumbling as she stepped into me. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her tightly, feeling her bury her face into my chest. Fuck. She was shaking. She was hurting. And I couldn’t stand it.

“You’re not alone in this,” I murmured, brushing my hand along her spine. “You did everything you could. It wasn’t your fault, Violet.”

She sniffed against me, her arms curling tighter, pulling me closer as if she could hide in the space between us. My hand found her braid, loosening the strands as I smoothed her hair.

“You’ll get up that Gauntlet,” I whispered against her hair, letting her feel the truth of my words. “You’re so much stronger than you know, Violence. You’ll find a way, because that’s what you do. The right way isn’t the only way.”

Her breath hitched, and I felt the slight shudder as her arms locked tighter around me, clinging to my shirt like a lifeline.

“Don’t let them break you,” I added, my voice firmer, yet laced with something deeper, something raw. “You’re not fragile. You’re made of sharper things than they’ll ever understand.”

She trembled against me, her face buried in my chest. Her breath, warm and uneven, stirred against my shirt.

“I miss you,” she whispered, her voice so quiet it almost didn’t reach me.

Gods. My eyes closed on their own, and I dropped my nose into the soft mass of her hair, breathing her in like I could somehow anchor myself there. “Violence,” I sighed, her name escaping like a confession, like a prayer I had no right to make.

She tipped her head back, her gaze locking onto mine, her eyes brimming with tears. “I know you don’t think we can be together,” she murmured, each word scraping against my resolve, “and I have to accept that for now. But I can’t bear you not being in my life at all.”

I swallowed hard, my jaw tightening as her plea clawed at every part of me.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Just… don’t ignore me. No one will say anything if we’re just friends. We can lay low. I just can’t take the silence between us anymore.”

My breath caught. Friends. My mind scoffed at the word, knowing damn well there was no version of me that could look at her and feel anything less than everything. But her eyes, the way they shimmered with that raw desperation, shattered my walls.

“I can’t stay away completely,” I murmured, my voice rough as sandpaper, as though admitting it out loud would make it hurt less.

Her lips parted in a trembling breath, but before she could say anything, I whispered, “Anyone else. I wish we could be anyone else.”

“Me too,” she whispered back, her voice breaking softly.

I tightened my arms around her, holding her like she was the only solid thing in a world that was crumbling beneath my feet. Her arms pressed into my back, her fingers curling into my jacket.

And for a moment, there was no war, no dragons, no secrets or lies. Just us, breathing in the quiet.

I closed my eyes again, willing myself to memorize the feel of her, the way she fit so perfectly against me. But it wouldn’t be enough. Not really. It never would be.

***

I walked her to the barracks, the weight of her against my side grounding me in a way nothing else could. The night was cool, but her warmth seeped into me, wrapping around my ribcage like a bandage I didn’t deserve.

When we reached the door, we stopped. She looked up at me, those luminous eyes of hers searching mine for something—maybe permission, maybe understanding. Hell, maybe she was just as lost as I was.

I leaned down, resting my forehead against hers, her breath mingling with mine. Her hands slipped up my chest, slow and deliberate, raking over my shoulders and curling into my hair, her touch like fire over my skin.

I closed my eyes, savoring her closeness, the way her scent wrapped around me, the way her lips hovered just a whisper from mine. My control was a fragile thread, ready to snap at any moment. But I couldn’t—wouldn’t—let it.

Instead, I pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, a brand of restraint and longing all at once. “I’ll see you when I see you, Violence.” My voice was rough with everything I couldn’t say.

“I’ll see you when I see you,” she whispered, her breath hitching.

And then she slipped inside the barracks, leaving me standing there with my hands clenched into fists at my sides. My throat felt tight, and my chest ached like someone had pressed a dagger right through it.

I turned, forcing myself to walk away, every step heavier than the last. When I finally reached my room, I collapsed against the door, breathing hard like I’d run a battle course.

I’m falling for her so hard it hurts.

Chapter Text

Violet

The last few weeks passed in a blur, the days marked by bruises and exhaustion, by late-night study sessions and early-morning formations. But if there was one thing more constant than the ache in my muscles, it was the new, unspoken understanding between Xaden and me.

We stopped pretending to ignore each other. We stopped pretending we weren’t drawn together like gravity itself. But we also kept our distance. He’d pass by during formation, his gaze lingering a fraction longer than it should. Sometimes, in the commons or the mess hall, I’d catch the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips when our eyes met. And even though I told myself I needed to focus on survival, the way my stomach twisted in knots whenever I saw him said otherwise.

As for the Gauntlet...

I’d made it through nearly every obstacle with gritted teeth and determination. But the chimney. That damned, sheer-sided, twenty-degree climb designed to mimic mounting a dragon? It stopped me every single time.

It wasn’t even a question of willpower. My hands would find purchase on the rough stone, my legs pushing upward, but the reach—the distance between one hold and the next—was too much. My smaller frame just wasn’t built for it. I’d claw and scramble, but no amount of stretching could make up for the sheer difference in size.

Every time, I’d slide back down, my palms scraped raw and knees bruised from the unforgiving surface. The failure stung, but worse was the suffocating weight of frustration.

It wasn’t just the climb itself—it was the reminder of every other time in my life when I’d come up short, when I’d had to fight harder, push farther, be braver, just to be seen as something more than too small, too fragile, too breakable.

But I wasn’t giving up. Not now. Not with Threshing closing in like a storm on the horizon.

***

“Doria Merrill,” Captain Fitzgibbons called from the dais. My heart sank as I heard the names of those we’d lost. “Kamryn Dyre.” I flinched. His seat was right across from mine in Dragonkind. “Arvel Pelipa.” Imogen and Quinn gasped ahead of me. “Michel Iverem.” Fitzgibbons closed the roll. “We commend their souls to Malek.”

Formation broke, and my stomach twisted. “Second- and third-years to class. First-years, it’s time to show us what you’ve got.”

Dain, standing nearby, gave our squad a strained smile. 

Imogen sauntered past, smirking. “Hopefully you won’t fall…short.”

“See you later,” I replied coolly, though her words scraped deeper than I’d admit.

“Good luck today.” Heaton offered a nod and tapped their heart before heading off. My eyes lingered on the unfamiliar patches on their uniform. Badges of honor—or warnings.

“I didn’t realize Heaton actually knew how to speak,” Ridoc joked, brows furrowing.

“Maybe they figure it’s polite to say hi before we’re potentially roasted today,” Rhiannon said, lips twitching.

“Back into formation,” Dain ordered.

“Are you coming with us?” I asked. He nodded without meeting my gaze.

We fell into two lines of four. “Awkward,” Rhiannon whispered next to me.

“He wants something I can’t give him,” I murmured, staring ahead.

Rhiannon raised an eyebrow. I rolled my eyes. “Not like that.”

“I wouldn’t care if it was,” Rhiannon teased, her grin sly. “He’s hot. That whole boy-next-door-who-can-still-kick-your-ass vibe.”

I almost smiled. She wasn’t wrong.

“If it helps you get over a certain brooding wingleader, I say go for it,” Rhiannon added with a wink, nudging me gently.

I huffed a laugh under my breath, but my heart gave a traitorous flutter at the thought of Xaden. Get over him? Not a chance in hell. I was already in too deep, my heart and body craving him in ways I could never admit out loud.

“We’re the biggest squad,” Ridoc said as squads started filing through the gates.

“What are we down to?” Tynan asked.

“A hundred and seventy-one,” Dain answered.

Squads from Second Wing moved ahead, and my heart skipped. Somewhere, Xaden was leading them, and though I tried to stay focused, I couldn’t help but wonder how his scales tipped today.

“For a hundred dragons?” Trina’s voice wavered.

“Stop letting fear leach into your voice,” Luca snapped. “If the dragons think you’re a coward, you’ll be nothing but a name tomorrow.”

“She says,” Ridoc drawled, “inducing more fear.”

“Shut up,” Luca hissed.

“Just show confidence,” I said, leaning forward to reassure Trina.

“Thanks,” she whispered, her voice trembling as Third Wing began marching.

“Nervous, Rhi?” I asked, my heart thrumming with the nerves I refused to show.

“For you?” she smirked. “Not at all. We’ve got this.”

“Good. Because I meant the history test tomorrow,” I teased, masking the weight of today’s real challenge.

“Ahh, the Treaty of Arif—the airspace agreement between Navarre and Krovla. Your memory is terrifying.”

Her light laugh was a balm, but it didn’t ease the knot tightening in my stomach.

“Fourth Wing!” Xaden’s voice cracked like a whip from somewhere ahead. My pulse jumped, reacting to the sheer authority laced with dark silk. “Move out!”

We filed off, through the bottleneck at the gate, then into the tunnel leading toward the Gauntlet. Shadows danced along the rocky walls, and I wondered again—just how far could Xaden’s power reach? Could he wipe us all out with a thought if he wanted? My stomach twisted at the memory of his shadows lashing around us, of his whispered threats and soft, secret smiles.

Dain fell back into step beside me, his voice low. “Change your mind.”

“No.” The word left my lips before I could let doubt take root.

His hand found mine, a hidden grasp in the tight formation. “Please.”

I shook my head. “I can’t. Not any more than you could leave Cath and run to the scribes yourself.”

“That’s different,” His hand squeezed mine, and I could feel the tension in his fingers, his arm. “I’m a rider.”  

“Well, maybe I am, too,” I whispered, even if my voice trembled under the weight of my own doubt. But I wasn’t leaving. Not now.

“I don’t want to bury you, Vi.”

I swallowed, looking ahead as the light from the tunnel’s end spilled over us. “It’s inevitable one of us will have to bury the other,” I said softly. Truth, bitter as it was.

The sunlight revealed the looming Gauntlet ahead, each obstacle a jagged threat climbing the cliffside. I bit my lip, glancing skyward toward the flight field. Dragons waited beyond that ridgeline, beyond the treetops, and the thought of Xaden—of his storm-dark eyes watching from above—made my heart tighten.

“Please don’t do this,” Dain said, louder now, his words heavy with desperation.

“Then close your eyes,” I whispered. I had a plan. It was desperate, reckless even—but it was mine.

An hour later, my feet flew across the spinning posts of the staircase, and I leapt onto the gravel path. Third ascent done. Two more to go. I felt Dain’s gaze from below, but I didn’t look back. There was no time for comfort, not when the final obstacles still loomed.

“You can do it!” Rhiannon cheered from the top.

“Or you can do us all a favor and fall!” Jack’s voice jeered.

I blocked him out, my eyes narrowing at the chimney structure ahead—the obstacle I hadn’t mastered. Darting back a few steps, I grabbed a rope, dragging it across the cliffside.

“What are you doing?” Rhiannon’s voice carried down.

The rope fought me, heavy and stiff, but I managed to wedge the end into the chimney’s side, securing it. Planting a foot, I tugged hard, testing its hold, and then I climbed, using the stone and rope together.

“Can she do that?” someone snapped.

I’m doing it now.

My hands burned, skin scraped raw, but I climbed higher. The top was just within reach when the rope slipped slightly, scraping stone. Gritting my teeth, I gripped tighter and hauled myself up, knees scraping against the ledge.

“Hell yes!” Ridoc whooped. “That’s our girl!” 

Rhiannon shouted. “Get up! One more!”

Chest heaving, I forced myself to my feet. The last ascent stretched before me—the ramp, curving high like the foreleg of a dragon.

I was too small. Everyone knew it. But Xaden’s words echoed in my head: The right way isn’t the only way, Violence.

I drew my largest dagger and wiped sweat from my brow. Ignoring the screaming protests of my muscles, I focused on the ramp like my life depended on it.

There was no rope, no easy way out. Just me, my determination, and sheer fucking will.

And so I charged.

Xaden

I stood at the top of the Gauntlet, stopwatch in hand, but my focus was solely on her.

Violet.

Every muscle in my body tensed as I watched her break into a sprint, dagger in hand, eyes locked on the ramp like she could will herself to the top.

She ran like her life depended on it—and maybe it did.

She can do this. I’m sure of it.

I held my breath as she charged the ramp, her scream raw and guttural. I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to move, to reach for her as she clawed for the edge. Her fingers scraped at the wood, her elbow locking, her head finally cresting the top.

When she collapsed onto the grass, my lungs finally dragged in air. Relief and pride warred inside me, tightening my chest. My thumb pressed into the stopwatch as if the pressure could somehow anchor the chaos of emotions tearing through me.

I wanted to kiss her. Gods, I wanted to kiss her so badly I could taste it.

She lay there, panting and shaking, her hands bloodied and raw, but there was fire in her eyes when she pulled herself to her knees. That fire was for me—I knew it. And for a moment, I let myself feel the swell of pride, the pulse of something almost like happiness.

“Cheating!” Amber’s shrill voice cut through the air, snapping me back to reality.

Garrick stepped in, but my gaze never left Violet. I knew she’d handle this. She was ready.

“Sorrengail?” I prompted, my voice low and laced with more than just authority—it was filled with pride, longing, a quiet plea.

“I expect the thirty-second penalty for using the rope,” she said, her voice steady despite the tremble in her hands.

Amber, predictably, demanded disqualification over the dagger.

Violet’s reply was perfect. “A rider may only bring to the quadrant the items they can carry, and they shall not be separated from those items no matter what they may be. For once carried across the parapet, they are considered part of their person.”

Brilliant fucking woman.

My lips twitched despite myself, her words wrapping around me like a damn tether. She was quoting the Codex, outmaneuvering Amber with scribe knowledge, her gaze locking with mine like she was sharing a secret only I could hear.

“The right way isn’t the only way.”

“She has you, Amber,” I said quietly, unable to stop the smug curl of my lips.

“On a technicality!” Amber spat.

“She still has you,” I murmured, letting my voice drop, low and dangerous, my eyes promising retribution if she pushed.

Amber backed down, but my focus was only on Violet, on the exhaustion in her shoulders, the flush in her cheeks.

“You’re leaking,” I said softly, gesturing to her bloodied hands. It wasn’t just a warning—it was a distraction, a way to keep myself from closing the distance between us and doing something I’d regret. “Do something about it.”

I wrote her name and time in the records, but my mind was already lost, circling around her. Around the way she’d looked at me just now, the stubborn pride and aching desire tangled in her gaze.

She was brilliant. She was infuriating. She was mine.

And I was so godsdamned in love with her, it hurt.

***

The sun was climbing by the time the last squad dragged themselves up the Gauntlet, and the numbers were clear—169 candidates left standing. That damn chimney had claimed a few more, but Violet’s squad still held strong, ranking eleventh out of thirty-six.

Liam was the fastest, of course.

I lounged beside Garrick at the entrance to the flight field, my boots kicked out in front of me like I was relaxed. But the way my muscles were drawn tight betrayed me, every thought in my head circling one person. Violence.

“She’s fine,” Garrick said, not bothering to hide the amusement in his voice. “You’ve been brooding like a lovesick fool all morning.”

I shot him a glare, but it lacked any real heat. “Shut up.”

“You’re not even watching the others come in,” he pointed out, grinning as he stretched. “You’ve been staring off down that canyon like you can will her into making it through unscathed.”

I exhaled sharply, ignoring him as I projected to Sgaeyl. Where’s her squad?

Sgaeyl’s voice curled into my mind, her tone half-mocking. They’re at the end of the canyon. No one’s torched yet. The little feathertail even made an appearance.

That pulled my lips into a tight line. My pulse stuttered. Feathertail?

Relax, Riorson. It just flew over, probably curious. Nothing more.

Garrick caught my reaction and chuckled. “You’re so fucking gone, it’s pathetic.”

Before I could tell him to shut up again, Sgaeyl’s voice cut in. Two green dragons approached her squad.

Every muscle in my body went rigid. My shadows coiled tighter around my boots, instinctual, even though I couldn’t lash out here. And?

They sniffed around. Nothing aggressive. She’s fine.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. But Garrick, the bastard, was watching me with his trademark shit-eating grin.

“Two greens?” he teased. “You’re going to sprain something, trying to keep from sprinting down there like her personal shield.”

I shot him another look. “Shut the fuck up, Garrick.”

Two of her squad got torched, Sgaeyl added, her voice a little more serious. But your little Violence is still in one piece.

I forced myself to look casual, even though I wanted to tear through the canyon and see her with my own eyes.

“They’re done,” Garrick said as the last stragglers made their way across the canyon and Presentation wrapped up. He stood, stretching his arms overhead with a dramatic sigh. “Looks like you’ve survived another day of being utterly fucked over a girl who’s going to drive you to an early grave.”

I dragged a hand through my hair and let my head fall back for a moment, eyes closing against the too-bright sky.

“I know,” I murmured, the admission raw in my throat.

Garrick clapped me on the shoulder. “At least you’re finally admitting it.”

I snorted softly, but there was no denying it. Violet Sorrengail had me wrapped up tighter than any shadows ever could.

Chapter Text

Violet

October first. Threshing day. It didn’t matter what day of the week it fell on—this was when first-year riders entered the bowl-shaped valley southwest of the citadel and prayed they came out alive.

I will not die today.

I skipped breakfast, my stomach too knotted to hold anything down. Ridoc wasn’t so lucky, hurling behind a tree to my right. Rhiannon stretched her arms, the sword on her back shifting with her movements.

“Listen here,” Professor Kaori called out, tapping his chest. “If a dragon has chosen you, they’ll call. Pay attention to not just your surroundings, but to your feelings. And if your feelings say run—listen.”

“Which one are you going for?” Rhiannon asked under her breath.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. My chest felt tight, a sinking weight that Mira would’ve called nerves. “I memorized the cards, sure. But none of them… connect.”

“That’s better than connecting with one another rider’s eyeing,” she murmured.

I tried to smile but it faltered. “Dain suggested a brown.”

“He lost his vote when he tried to get you to leave,” Rhiannon shot back. She wasn’t wrong. I’d barely spoken to him since Presentation, and when I did, he tried convincing me to run.

“What about you?” I asked, my voice barely audible over the growing hum of nerves around us.

She grinned. “I’m thinking about that green. The one that got up close with you. Didn’t eat me—so that’s promising.”

“Yeah,” I said softly, a flicker of hope threading through my fear.

Professor Kaori’s voice rose again. “If you go in groups, you’re more likely to be incinerated than bonded. The scribes’ statistics don’t lie. Spread out.”

Jack Barlowe caught my eye, running his finger across his neck. Oren and Tynan flanked him, their squad loyalty gone now that survival was on the line.

“What if we’re not chosen by dinner?” someone nearby asked.

“You’ll be brought out,” Kaori said, his voice clipped. “Don’t give up. It’s nine now. They’ll be flying in any minute. Good luck.”

His intense gaze swept over us like he was memorizing every face before disappearing into the trees.

I exhaled sharply. It was time. My heart pounded in my ears. I’d either leave this valley a rider—or I wouldn’t leave at all.

Rhiannon hugged me tight. “Be careful.”

“You too.”

Ridoc grabbed me next. “Don’t die,” he said, his voice low and gruff.

And then we scattered, flung apart like the pieces of a broken puzzle.

Xaden

The sky bled with the hues of morning as Sgaeyl circled above the Threshing valley. I scanned the thick, tangled canopy below, my chest tightening with every shadow and flicker.

She was down there. Somewhere.

Sgaeyl’s wings beat harder, her voice crackling into my mind. “ They’re closing in on the little feathertail.”

“What?” My gut twisted.

She banked sharply, diving, and I caught a glimpse of gold through the trees—the glint of scales like sunlight on water. A feathertail. Smaller than any dragon I’d seen, delicate and impossibly rare.

But it wasn’t the dragon that made my stomach drop.

Violet.

She stood in the clearing, her stance wide, daggers drawn, blocking the path between the feathertail and three armed cadets. Barlowe and his cronies.

“Fuck,” I hissed under my breath. Sgaeyl’s growl echoed mine.

“What’s she doing?” Sgaeyl snapped, irritation laced with concern. “ Does she think she can fight them all?”

Of course she did. That stubborn, reckless courage was exactly what I both admired and feared in her. My fists clenched at my sides, shadows stirring at my feet. But I couldn’t interfere. Not without condemning us both.

“Let’s hope she’s smarter than this,” I muttered, though my pulse screamed otherwise.

Barlowe’s voice carried, venomous and loud. “Look, we can take out both of the weakest links at the same time.”

Rage coiled in my chest, dark and hot, but I forced myself to stay rooted. This wasn’t about me. It was about her. About what she’d survive.

Violet’s voice rang out, defiant and clear. “You can’t do this!”

Gods, she was going to get herself killed. And there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to stop it. Sgaeyl growled beside me, her muscles tensed, and I could feel her desire to leap into the fray.

“Can the feathertail fly?” I asked quietly.

“Of course she can. But if she leaves, your Violence is alone with them.”

I swore softly, my mind racing. Violet was limping, but still standing strong, her daggers gleaming in the sun. Brave. Foolish. My jaw clenched hard enough to ache.

Barlowe and his friends circled her, swords raised. She couldn’t take them all. Not like this. I couldn’t let her fall.

Sgaeyl’s growl deepened in agreement, her wings flaring.

As they lifted their swords to strike, my voice cut across the clearing, low and deadly. “I would strongly recommend you rethink your actions.”

Sgaeyl bared her fangs, her presence enough to make even the bravest idiot pause.

For one breathless moment, everything stilled. My heart pounded like a war drum. I knew the cost if this went wrong. But I couldn’t stand by and watch her be slaughtered.

Not Violet.

Not the woman I—I couldn’t even finish the thought.

Violet’s eyes lock on mine across the clearing, her shoulders sagging with relief—but only for a heartbeat. Even from here, I see the exact moment she figures it out. If I could stop this, if I was allowed to, those three would already be dead at my feet.

Barlowe’s sneer tells me he knows it, too.

“And if we don’t want to rethink our actions?” Barlowe calls, mocking, his voice slicing through the tension like a blade.

My fists clench so hard my nails bite into my palms. I could unleash my shadows, end them all—but the rules are clear. I’m as helpless as the little golden dragon at her back.

“There’s nothing you can do, right? Wingleader?” Barlowe taunts, his voice rising.

“It’s not me you should worry about today,” I snap, my tone low and dangerous as Sgaeyl tilts her head, her lip curling in a silent snarl.

Barlowe turns away from me, dismissing my threat as if it’s nothing. He knows the rules as well as I do. He knows I can’t act—and it’s killing me.

Sgaeyl shifts restlessly beside me, her growl vibrating in my bones. 

“She can do this,” I whisper fiercely, trying to believe it, trying to will the strength into her as Barlowe charges at her with a roar.

She moves like a goddess of war—dagger flashing, embedding into Barlowe’s shoulder. His sword clatters to the ground as he falls forward, screaming. My pulse surges, pride coiling with terror.

Tynan and Oren are on her in a heartbeat. She’s hurt—I can see it in the way her stance falters, in the tightness around her mouth. My gut twists. But she’s still fighting. My stubborn, brave, infuriating Violet.

I nearly lose it when Oren’s sword slices across her, but it skims off her armor. Still, she’s bleeding, she’s slowing, and my heart clenches.

“She’s destroyed my shoulder! I can’t move it!” Barlowe cries.

“That’s the thing about having weak joints,” Violet says, her voice biting. My chest aches with pride, but my fists tremble with rage.

“Kill her!” Barlowe orders, already fleeing like the coward he is.

Tynan lunges, his sword flashing. She meets him with steel, shoving a dagger into his side. My breath hitches, hope rising—until I see her falter, blood trailing down her arm.

“Behind you!” I shout, desperation tearing at my throat.

She turns just in time, her blade’s hilt slamming into Oren’s skull as the golden dragon growls, baring its teeth. He crumples, and for a moment, I let myself believe she’s won.

“You can’t interfere!” Tynan snarls at me.

“No, but I can narrate,” I shoot back, my voice tight with barely restrained fury.

But Violet’s movements are slowing, her stance unsteady. She’s bleeding too much. My throat tightens as I watch her battle Tynan, her face pale, her grip slipping.

“ I have to step in”

“No you don’t.” she snaps, her tone fierce and final.

I grit my teeth as Violet throws her dagger—and misses. My heart sinks as Tynan raises his sword high. I step forward, shadows gathering at my fingertips, ready to throw everything away—my life, my future—just to save her.

But before I can act, wind roars through the clearing, trees bowing as an enormous black dragon descends, his wings shattering the air.

Tairn.

Sgaeyl growls low, her possessiveness rising, but I barely notice. My eyes are on Violet as Tairn lands, the little golden one tucked under his wing. His massive form casts a shadow over the entire clearing, his teeth bared, his growl low and menacing.

Violet stares up at him, shock and defiance warring on her face. My chest constricts, the realization crashing over me like a tidal wave.

“She bonded him,” I whisper, the words raw and bitter and laced with a fierce, overwhelming pride.

“Did you…did you call him?” I ask her, my voice breaking.

Her eyes meet mine. “No.”

Tairn chose her. My gut twists, my heart aching. Sgaeyl huffs beside me, her voice tinged with resignation. Of course he chose her. She’s worthy.

I mount Sgaeyl, my thoughts spinning wildly as we launch into the sky. The wind tears at my face, but I barely feel it. All I can think, over and over, is:

She’s alive. She’s mine. And I’m already lost.

Chapter Text

Violet

Dusk cloaked the world in shades of violet and gold as the lights in the bleachers snapped on, illuminating the crowd gathered for the final count. My mother sat at the edge of the stands, her face a mask of unreadable control, and beside her stood General Melgren, his sharp gaze fixed squarely on me. My pulse skittered in my chest like a trapped bird.

I couldn’t believe I’d made it this far. My limbs still ached from the climb, my arm throbbed from where Tynan’s sword had cut me, and my head spun with everything that had happened. Tairn, the black dragon. Andarna, the little golden feathertail. Both of them were—gods—mine.

I approached the roll-keeper, the weight of a thousand stares heavy on my back. “Name?” the roll-keeper asked briskly, quill poised over the parchment.

I swallowed hard, glancing back at Tairn, who stood tall and regal behind me. “Violet Sorrengail.”

“And the dragon you’ve bonded with?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but a silken voice interrupted in my head. “Andarnaurram,” the feathertail chimed in, her voice delicate but insistent. “You are bonded with me as well. I would like that very much.”

My mouth dried. “What? No—wait. You’re bonded with Tairn—”

“I can choose, too,” Andarna murmured, her tone sweet but firm. “I choose you.”

“Shit,” I whispered under my breath, my pulse stuttering wildly.

“You must tell them,” Tairn’s deep voice rumbled through my thoughts, dark and commanding. “You are bonded to us both. That is how it must be.”

My breath caught, the air slicing sharp in my lungs. I turned back to the roll-keeper, my voice trembling. “Tairneanarch. And…Andarnaurram.”

The roll-keeper’s quill faltered, her brows drawing down in confusion. “Excuse me?”

“Violet Sorrengail has bonded with Tairneanarch and Andarnaurram,” I repeated, my voice steadier now, though my heart felt like it might hammer right out of my chest.

Gasps erupted around the field, rippling outward through the bleachers. A murmuring chaos of disbelief rose, the crowd surging with whispers.

“What?” someone shouted.

“Impossible!”

“She bonded two dragons?”

General Melgren stepped forward, his face tightening into a frown of disbelief. My mother’s expression barely flickered, but her knuckles whitened where her hands rested on the railing.

The roll-keeper’s quill trembled slightly, but she dipped it into the ink and recorded the names. “Violet Sorrengail—bonded with Tairn and Andarnaurram,” she read aloud, her voice ringing over the field.

A roar of outrage and confusion exploded from the crowd. Dragons shifted their weight, wings flaring in agitation. The murmur of voices grew louder, punctuated by calls of disbelief and accusations.

I turned slowly, my knees shaky, and found Tairn watching me with a look that was almost smug. Andarna, nestled under his wing, trilled softly in my mind, “I like this one. She’s mine now.”

Tairn snorted, the sound echoing through my skull. “She’s ours.”

I stood there, the impossible weight of two dragons’ gazes resting on me, and felt the world tilt on its axis.

And for the first time since I’d set foot in Basgiath, I wasn’t afraid.

***

Two dragons. I had… two dragons.

The generals had been shouting at each other for half an hour while the instructors stitched up my arm, their voices blending into background noise. A chill settled into the air as the sun dipped low, shadows stretching long across the field.

Professor Kaori worked silently on my splinted ankle, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity. “How’s it feel?” he finally asked, tightening the straps.

“Hurts like hell,” I admitted, wincing as he adjusted the laces of my boot.

“At least you’re standing,” he murmured, his brow furrowing. “You’ll be focused on strengthening your bond and riding soon. This should heal before your next challenge, as long as you can mount.”

“I can’t afford to appear weak,” I said, glancing over at the roll-keeper and the growing line of cadets.

Kaori nodded, but the tension in his shoulders didn’t ease. “Who made it out of your squad?”

I shook my head and swallowed hard, my throat dry. “Please let them be okay.”

He hesitated. “I haven’t seen Trina or Tynan.”

“Tynan won’t be coming,” I whispered, guilt churning in my stomach.

“That’s not your kill to claim,” Tairn’s deep voice growled in my head, the reassurance both comforting and unsettling.

Before I could respond, Jack’s voice bellowed from a few feet away. “What the hell do you mean it might need surgery?”

I turned, watching him argue with another instructor, his face red with frustration. “Looks like a couple ligaments are torn,” the instructor replied calmly.

Jack’s eyes locked on me, his expression twisting with rage. “You!”

“I what?” I replied, stepping off the table and keeping my hands near my daggers.

Professor Kaori quickly moved between us, palm raised. “I wouldn’t get any closer to her.”

“Hiding behind instructors now, Sorrengail?” Jack sneered, his fist clenched.

“I didn’t hide out there, and I’m not hiding now,” I said, lifting my chin. “I’m not the one who ran.”

Kaori’s lips twitched, almost a smile. “She doesn’t need to hide behind me when she’s bonded to the most powerful dragon of your year. Your orange is a good choice, Barlowe—Baide, right? He’s had four other riders before you.”

Jack’s mouth tightened, his gaze flicking to Tairn, then back to me.

“As aggressive as Baide might be,” Kaori added, “from the way Tairn’s watching you, he’ll have no problem incinerating your bones if you take another step toward his rider.”

Jack’s face went pale, the arrogance draining from his posture. “You?”

“Me,” I repeated quietly, my pulse steady beneath the adrenaline.

He opened his mouth to argue, but the look in my eyes—tired but unwavering—shut him up.

“Everyone who needs to know already knows,” I said simply, the truth of it settling deep in my bones.

Kaori nodded, glancing toward the line of dragons silhouetted against the darkening sky. “The senior riders are back. You two should return to your dragons.”

Jack glared at me once more, then stalked off, his pride wounded more than his shoulder.

I exhaled shakily and turned to Kaori. “Let’s go,” I murmured, my gaze flicking to where Tairn and Andarna waited for me.

“Professor Kaori, has anyone ever bonded two dragons?” I asked, my voice quiet but trembling with the weight of the question.

Kaori turned with me to watch the generals arguing behind us. “You’d be the first,” he said evenly. “Not sure why they’re arguing. It’s not their decision to make.”

“It’s not?”

Wind gusted across the valley as dozens of dragons landed opposite us, casting long shadows.

“Dragons choose,” Kaori said, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Humans like to pretend we’re in charge, but we’re not. My guess is they’re waiting for the others to return before they decide.”

“The others?”

“The dragons.”

The weight of his words sinked in as I glanced toward the dragons gathering in a steady stream. “Thank you for tending to my ankle,” I murmured, offering him a grateful smile before making my way to where Tairn and Andarna waited.

“You two are causing a spectacle,” I said, glancing between them before turning to face the field with the other first-years. My stomach knots. “They’re not going to let us do this.”

Tairn’s voice was low, but firm. “The Empyrean decides. Stay here.”

I turned to ask what that meant, but my words caught as the largest dragon I’ve ever seen—a battle-scarred giant even bigger than Tairn—stalked into the field, dragons falling in behind it.

“Is that…?”

“Codagh,” Tairn rumbled. Melgren’s dragon.

Codagh’s gold eyes pinned me, a low growl vibrating through the air. Tairn growled back, stepping forward to shield me.

“Yep, we’re talking about you!” Andarna said brightly in my head, joining the line.

“Stay close to the wingleader until we return,” Tairn ordered.

Wingleader? I glanced across the field to find Xaden watching, arms crossed, his gaze locked on me.

Dragons rose into the air, vanishing into the sky in a slow, purposeful stream. As the last disappeared, chaos erupted. First-years rushed into the field, searching for friends.

“Rhi!” I called, spotting her.

“Violet!” She pulled me into a hug, then recoiled at my wince. “What happened?”

“Tynan,” I managed. Before I could  say more, Ridoc grabbed me and spun me in the air.

“Look who bonded the baddest motherfucker around!”

“Put her down! She’s bleeding!” Rhi scolded.

“Oops, sorry.” Ridoc set me down, and I managed a shaky grin.

“Who’d you bond with?” I asked, wincing.

“Feirge, Green Daggertail,” Rhiannon beamed.

“Aotrom, Brown Swordtail,” Ridoc sayd.

“Sliseag!” Sawyer joined, throwing an arm around them both.

I managed a laugh, but my heart sank. “Trina?”

They shook their heads. “I saw her fall from an Orange Clubtail,” Sawyer says quietly.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “And Tynan?”

“Tairn killed him,” I said softly. “In his defense, Tynan already ran me through once.” I gestured to my bandaged arm. “And he was trying to—”

A hand spun me around, pulling me tight against a familiar chest. “Damn it, Violet,” Dain muttered, his voice tight with emotion.

“Dain,” I breathed, wrapping my arms around him, letting his presence anchor me.

“You’re hurt,” he said, pulling back to inspect me.

“I’m fine,” I insisted, though I knew  I wasn’t. “We’re all that’s left of our squad’s first-years.”

Dain’s jaw tightened. “Four out of nine. That’s about right. The dragons are meeting—the Empyrean. Stay here,” he told the others, before turning to me. “You come with me.”

I followed, my heart heavy, but wasn’t not my mother’s gaze I found—it was Xaden’s, dark and unreadable, watching me from across the field.

When Dain took my hand and pulled me to the edge of the field, hidden in shadows, I followed, though my thoughts were  still tangled with Xaden’s unreadable stare. “What the hell happened out there?” he demanded, his fingers lacing with mine, eyes swirling with panic. “Cath told me Tairn chose you—and the little one, Adarn?”

“Andarna,” I corrected softly, a smile tugging at my lips despite the tension.

“They’re going to make you choose.” His voice hardened, making me recoil.

“I’m not choosing,” I said, pulling my hand from his grip. “No human’s ever chosen. I’m not going to be the first.”

“You are.” His frustration crackled. “You have to trust me. You trust me, right?”

“Of course I do—”

“Then you have to choose Andarna,” he insisted. “The gold one’s the safest choice.”

My mouth opened, then closed. Tairn… dangerous, but also magnificent. Andarna… sweet and fragile. How could I ever choose?

“They’re going to make me choose, aren’t they?” I sent the thought out, but the familiar connection to them was gone. My mind felt like it was stretching into nothing.

“I’m not choosing,” I said, my voice thinner now.

“You have to. Andarna’s small—sure—but that means they’ll probably keep you here, safe. Like Kaori.”

I shook my head. “Kaori’s indispensable because of his signet, not because his dragon can’t fly. And even he served four years before teaching.”

Dain’s jaw tightened, frustration darkening his face. “If you take Andarna, there’s a chance you’ll live. If you bond with Tairn—Xaden will get you killed. He’s more dangerous than Melgren, Vi. Unpredictable.”

I blinked. “Wait—what?”

“They’re a mated pair,” Dain said. “Tairn and Sgaeyl. The strongest bonded pair in centuries. Mated dragons can’t be separated—they’re always stationed together.”

My heart sunk. That meant… if I bond with Tairn…

“Just… tell me how it happened,” he asked, his voice softer now.

So I did. I told him everything—the hunt for Andarna, Jack’s cruelty, falling, the fight. I tell him about Xaden’s warning, his voice cutting through the chaos when Oren was at my back. His choice to help, even when he didn’t have to.

“Xaden was there?” Dain murmured, but his gentleness faded.

“Yes. But he left after Tairn appeared.”

“Xaden was there when you defended Andarna, and then Tairn just… showed up?”

“Yes,” I said. “That’s exactly what happened.”

“Don’t you see what he’s done?” Dain’s grip tightened on my shoulders, his panic bleeding through. “Please, do tell me what you think I’ve done,” I hear Xaden’s voice cut in smoothly, making me jump and spin toward him.

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.

Chapter Text

Violet

I sank onto the edge of the narrow bed in my new room—my room. No more shared dorms, no more listening to other cadets snore or whisper behind thin walls. A room of my own, because I was a rider now. The thought still made my head spin.

Rhiannon sprawled on the floor beside the bed, her back against the wall, and Ridoc sat cross-legged near the foot of the bed, tossing a dagger from hand to hand. Sawyer leaned casually against the doorframe, his smile easy but his eyes still haunted from Threshing.

We were finally safe. For now.

“Well, I had a boring Threshing,” Ridoc said, voice teasing as he flipped the dagger into the air. “Compared to you, Vi, anyway.”

“Yeah, you just bonded with a dragon without almost getting killed,” I said dryly, and we all laughed, the sound ringing against the stone walls.

Sawyer, ever the quiet observer, smiled faintly. “I’ll take boring over that any day.”

Ridoc couldn’t contain himself any longer, his grin splitting wide. “Speaking of that,” he drawled, “are we just going to ignore the fact that Aetos kissed you?”

I groaned, dropping my head into my hands. “It—it felt so wrong. I don’t know. He’s just not…not—”

“Not Xaden,” Rhiannon cut in, smirking knowingly.

I sighed, nodding. “Yeah.”

Ridoc snorted. “You think you’re falling for him?”

Heat rushed up my neck, but I couldn’t stop the small, hopeless smile. “I think I might be falling for him,” I admitted, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

Rhi grinned wide, her eyes sparkling. “About time you figured that out.”

Sawyer rolled his eyes, though his grin was soft. “Just don’t let him distract you too much. We’ve got a lot to learn now.”

“I’m not going to let him distract me,” I said, though my voice lacked conviction.

“You already let him distract you,” Tairn rumbled in my mind, his voice dripping with amusement.

“She’s a goner,” Andarna chimed in, her tone featherlight and teasing. 

I rolled my eyes, earning a snort from Rhi. “I take it your dragons are chiming in?”

“Constantly,” I muttered. That was something I had to get used to.

Before any of us could say another word, a sharp knock sounded at my door.

Ridoc’s grin turned sly. “Ten bucks it’s Riorson.”

Sawyer grinned back. “Ten it’s Aetos.”

I rolled my eyes, pushing up from the bed. “Both of you, shut up,” I said, but my heart was already racing.

I crossed the room and reached for the door handle, steeling myself.

I opened the door, and there he was.

Xaden.

Ridoc let out a loud whoop from behind me. “Ha! Pay up, Sawyer!”
 Sawyer groaned. “Ten bucks.”

Xaden’s brow quirked, a flicker of amusement in his dark eyes. “May I come in?”

I stepped aside, my heart tripping in my chest as he crossed the threshold. Behind me, Rhiannon cleared her throat. “Alright, boys, time to go.”
 Ridoc and Sawyer grumbled, shooting me exaggerated looks of betrayal as they dragged their feet toward the door. Rhi gave me a knowing glance as she ushered them out.

The door clicked shut behind them, leaving just the two of us in the softly lit room.

“So,” Xaden said, his deep voice curling around me like a caress, “how do you like your new room?”

I smirked, leaning against the headboard of my bed. “You’re terrible at small talk, Wingleader.”

A rare, quiet laugh rumbled from his chest, and gods, I could drown in that sound. It made my pulse stutter and heat rise up my neck.

He shrugged off his boots and sat beside me, our legs stretched out side by side. The silence settled between us like an old friend, comforting and full of unspoken words.

But then his voice, low and ragged, cut through the quiet. “I wanted to kill him.” His jaw clenched as he stared straight ahead, shadows darkening his expression. “When I saw Aetos put his hands on you, when he kissed you… I almost lost it, Violence.”

My breath caught, my stomach dropping like a stone. “Xaden,” I whispered, the weight of his words pressing against my chest.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about it, about him touching you like that, when all I wanted—” He cut himself off, his voice breaking with the effort of restraint.

I reached for his hand, threading my fingers through his. “I didn’t want it,” I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. “How could I, when you’re all I think about?”

His head snapped toward me, his dark eyes locking on mine, and for a breathless heartbeat, the weight of everything we felt hung heavy between us—undeniable, overwhelming. 

We talked about Threshing, his voice low and steady as he confessed, “If Tairn hadn’t come, I would’ve stepped in.”

I turned my head to look at him, my breath catching at the raw honesty in his voice. “You would’ve died.”

He didn’t flinch, just met my gaze, his jaw tightening. “I would’ve.”

I curled into him, my head resting over the steady beat of his heart, his warmth wrapping around me like the safest place in the world. His hands slid into my hair, fingers threading through the strands as he held me closer, his touch so tender it almost undid me completely.

“I could stay like this forever,” I murmured against his shirt, feeling the strength of him beneath my cheek.

“Me too,” he whispered back, his voice thick with longing. His hands stilled for a moment, then resumed their gentle exploration, like he was trying to memorize every strand of my hair, every breath I took.

“Why does it have to be this way?” I asked, my voice breaking with the weight of everything we couldn’t have. “Why can’t it be easy?”

“I don’t know, Violence,” he said softly, his lips brushing against the top of my head. His arms tightened around me just a fraction. “But one day, it won’t be anymore. I promise.”

I lifted my head, tilting it just enough to meet his eyes. “Xaden,” I whispered, and the way his name trembled in the air between us made his breath hitch.

I barely had a moment to catch my breath before Xaden’s lips claimed mine. His kiss wasn’t gentle—it was consuming, desperate, like he’d finally let the dam break and there was no going back. My hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, and he groaned low against my mouth, his body pressing into mine until I couldn’t think of anything but the solid weight of him, the heat of him.

His hand slid to my waist, pulling me closer until I was straddling him, my knees framing his hips. He deepened the kiss, his tongue stroking mine, stealing every rational thought from my brain. The world outside this room didn’t exist—there was only Xaden and the way he made me feel, like I was the only thing that mattered.

He shifted us with an effortless roll of his hips, laying me back on the bed as his body pressed me down, his thigh settling between mine, grinding into me. A gasp escaped my lips as he moved, his hardness pressing against the exact spot where I was aching for him. My hands found the hem of his shirt, desperate to feel skin, to memorize the heat of him beneath my palms.

“Fuck, Violence,” he murmured against my mouth, his voice wrecked with need. “You’re gonna kill me.”

His lips trailed down my neck, nipping at the sensitive skin, and I arched beneath him, my hands clenching the fabric of his shirt. My pulse was a frantic drumbeat in my ears, every inch of me consumed by him, by this, by us. I felt his control slipping as he rocked against me, a low groan rumbling in his throat.

And then—

A knock at the door. Sharp. Insistent.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I gasped, my head falling back against the pillow. My cheeks were flushed, my lips swollen from his kisses, and I could still feel the hard line of him pressed against me, his body strung tight with tension.

“It’s Dain,” came the muffled, annoyingly familiar voice from the other side. “Violet, can I talk to you?”

Xaden’s breath was hot against my collarbone, and I could feel the rage simmering beneath his skin, the possessiveness thrumming through the bond like a coiled spring. His hands clenched at my hips, as though he was barely restraining himself from tearing the door off its hinges and throwing Dain into the hallway.

I groaned, pressing my palms to my flushed face. “Seriously?”

“Violence,” Xaden said roughly, pulling back just enough to meet my gaze, his dark eyes burning with frustration and longing. “Tell me you don’t want to answer him.”

“I don’t,” I whispered, my voice trembling with regret and something dangerously close to desperation. “I want you.”

His lips ghosted over mine, a silent promise. But the knock came again, insistent, and I cursed under my breath.

Xaden pulled away with a growl, sitting up, his shoulders tense with fury as he shoved a hand through his hair. “He’s fucking lucky he’s still breathing.”

I sighed, trying to catch my breath as I smoothed my hair back, my pulse still racing. “I’ll handle it.”

As I stood to open the door, Xaden sat there, his dark gaze locked on me, his body coiled tight with frustration and desire. The moment was shattered—but the fire still smoldered between us, waiting to reignite.

Xaden

I watched her hips sway as she padded across the room toward the door, her leggings hugging every curve, her ass a perfect, taunting invitation I couldn’t tear my eyes from. Gods, she moved like she knew exactly what she was doing to me. Before she reached the door, she threw a glance over her shoulder, her lips curling into a wicked smirk.

“Move,” she murmured, gesturing to the armoire tucked beside the window. “You wanna fuck me?”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, stealing the breath from my lungs. I blinked. “Fuck yeah, I do.”

“Then move, Riorson, or there will be none of that when he finds you here.”

Damn her for being right. And damn me for wanting her even more because of it. Her commanding tone shot straight to my cock, and I ground my teeth, stepping into the shadowed alcove she’d pointed to. As I passed her, I couldn’t resist grabbing her ass, hard, eliciting a quiet gasp from her lips.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” I growled low into her ear, the taste of her skin lingering in my mind as I slipped into hiding.

From the shadows, I watched as she opened the door, her body language shifting into casual politeness as she leaned slightly against the frame.

“Dain,” she greeted, her voice neutral, but I heard the edge of impatience beneath it.

I strained to hear his reply, the mere sound of his voice scraping against every nerve in my body. “Violet, I wanted to talk about...about what happened earlier.”

Not this again. My hands curled into fist.

“I’m not feeling great right now,” Violet said, her tone soft but firm. “Now’s not a good time.”

“I just—I need to explain. I shouldn’t have—” he stammered.

I bit down on a curse, glaring at the wall.

I clenched my jaw so tight it ached as Dain shifted on the other side of the door, his voice lowering to a tone that made my skin crawl.

“If you’re feeling tense,” he said, a hint of false concern bleeding into his words, “I could come in. Give you a massage. Ease some of that tension.”

A sharp crack echoed in my ears—my knuckles whitening as I gripped the edge of the windowsill hard enough to feel the wood splinter beneath my fingers. My shadows twitched, coiling around me like vipers, as I fought the overwhelming urge to rip the door open and drag him out by the throat. How dare he? How dare he touch what wasn’t his, to act like he could soothe her when she was already mine in ways he couldn’t begin to imagine?

“No, thank you, Dain,” Violet said, her voice calm but firm, threading through my pulse like a balm and a torment all at once. “I’m really not feeling great. I just need some rest.”

I clenched my jaw so tight it ached as Dain shifted on the other side of the door, his voice lowering to a tone that made my skin crawl.

“Are you sure?” His voice was too damn soft, laced with need. I could hear the plea beneath his words, the pathetic hope that she’d say yes, that she’d let him in, let him touch her, let him—

“I said tomorrow,” she cut him off gently, the steel beneath her softness enough to make something dark and possessive twist in my gut. “We’ll talk then.”

Silence hung thick in the air, broken only by his sigh. “Promise?” he asked again, his voice almost breaking.

“Promise,” she murmured, the word tasting bitter in my ears.

I pressed my forehead against the cool windowpane, trying to leash the fury clawing at my insides. My fists trembled, shadows rising in restless waves beneath my skin. I wanted to tear through the barrier between us, slam Dain into the wall, and mark Violet as mine until there was no doubt left in anyone’s mind—not even hers.

But I couldn’t. Not yet.

As his footsteps finally retreated, I forced myself to breathe, letting the shadows ebb back into me, though my hands still trembled from the restraint.

As soon as the door clicked shut, I moved.

My shadows were still thrumming with barely-leashed fury, and I needed to taste her, claim her, drown in her until every thought of that asshole Aetos was gone.

I stepped out from my hiding place, grabbed the back of Violet’s thighs, and lifted her with ease, pinning her back against the door.

“He’s lucky I want to fuck you so badly,” I growled against her throat, my voice rough and dark, “or I would’ve stuffed his mouth with his precious fucking Codex.”

Her laugh was a low, breathless sound that tightened everything in me. “Shut up and do that thing with your fingers already.”

I snapped, my mouth crushing hers in a kiss that left no room for hesitation. I tore her shirt up over her head, my hands roaming down her body, memorizing every curve. She gasped against my lips, and I swallowed the sound greedily.

I carried her to the bed, laying her down with a gentleness that belied the feral need clawing through my veins. My lips brushed over her neck, tasting the salt of her skin, the thrum of her pulse beneath my tongue.

“Mine,” I whispered into her ear, my voice low and wrecked, lips trailing down to the delicate curve of her collarbone. “You’re fucking mine.”

Her breath hitched, her body arching, her hands tangling in my hair as I kissed down to her breasts, my tongue circling a nipple, teasing until she gasped my name.

“Fuck, look at you,” I growled, my voice rough and thick with need. “So fucking perfect, so ready for me.”

I slid my hand down her stomach, slipping under the waistband of her leggings, finding her soaked and throbbing for me. My fingers sank inside her, slow and deliberate, stroking her in the way I knew would make her fall apart, circling her clit with the pad of my thumb.

Her hips bucked against my hand, a low moan breaking from her lips, and I couldn’t stop myself—I ground my aching cock against her thigh, seeking a shred of friction, a hint of relief from the throbbing need that had me on the edge.

“Fuck, Violence, you feel so good,” I rasped, voice shaking. “So tight, so wet for me. I bet you’d take me so fucking well.”

“Xaden,” she gasped, her voice breaking, her fingers tightening in my hair as her hips rolled against my hand. “I’m—gods, I’m going to—”

I pressed my lips to hers, swallowing her cry as she teetered on the edge, my own hips rutting shamelessly against her leg.

Then—a loud, jarring knock shattered the moment, echoing in the room and pulling a strangled curse from my lips.

Chapter Text

Xaden

“This has to be a fucking joke,” I cursed, pressing my forehead to hers, trying to drag in a breath even as I felt the rage simmering beneath my skin.

“What?” she snapped breathlessly, her cheeks flushed, lips swollen, chest heaving.

From the other side of the door, Garrick’s voice cut through the haze. “Xaden? You in there with her?”

I let out a low groan, half in frustration, half in sheer desperation. “Yeah, I’m here. Now fuck off, Garrick.”

“I can’t,” Garrick said, his voice tense. “We need you. There was an incident.”

I grit my teeth, ready to tear the damn door off its hinges. But before I could say anything, Violet grabbed my hand from between her thighs, her eyes locked on mine, and slowly, deliberately, brought my fingers to her mouth. Her tongue flicked over them, swirling, tasting herself, and I bit back a groan that tore from my throat, grinding into her again, needing the contact, the friction, the heat.

“Go,” she whispered, her voice low and wrecked, her breath hot against my cheek. “See what it is.”

I ground my teeth, dragging in a shuddering breath, then forced myself to pull away. I adjusted myself quickly, biting back a curse, and tossed her T-shirt from where it had fallen on the floor. “Put this on.”

She caught it with a glare that made me want to toss it right back to the floor and crawl into bed with her. But instead, I stalked to the door, my body thrumming with frustration and lingering desire. I yanked it open, pinning Garrick with a glare.

“What the fuck could be so urgent that you had to interrupt that ?” I growled, barely able to keep my voice low.

Garrick’s face was grim, the usual smirk absent from his lips. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “There was an attack. A Venin attack. Bodhi was out on a weapon drop and…”

My heart stopped, my stomach plummeting. “Is he—?”

“He’s hurt. But alive,” Garrick said quickly, holding my gaze. “He’s in his room. We need you there. Now.”

I exhaled a curse, the ice-cold dread pooling in my gut. “I’ll be right there,” I said, forcing myself to think clearly, to focus. “Just give me a second.”

Garrick nodded, his face tight with worry, and turned to leave.

I shut the door and turned back to Violet, my jaw clenched, my heart hammering in my chest. She sat there, her legs curled beneath her, her T-shirt wrinkled and her cheeks still flushed. My body ached to return to her, to finish what we started, but I couldn’t—not now.

I ran a hand through my hair, taking a shaky breath. “I have to go,” I said quietly, my voice rough with frustration and something softer, deeper, that I couldn’t quite name.

 closed the door behind me, exhaling a low curse as I turned back to face her. Gods, she was still there, sitting on the bed, her hair tousled, her lips kiss-bruised, her cheeks flushed. Everything in me screamed to stay. To go back to her. To never leave.

But I couldn’t.

“I have to go,” I muttered, my voice rough with regret. “I’m sorry.”

Her brow furrowed, her worry etching lines into her face. “What happened?”

“It’s Bodhi,” I said quietly, the words tasting bitter in my mouth. “He’s hurt.” My throat tightened, the weight of it crashing into me all over again. For a moment, I’d thought—I’d been sure—Bodhi was gone. That I’d lost him.

Violet got off the bed, her movements slow and sure, and came to me. She took my face in her hands, her palms warm against my skin, her lips brushing against my jaw. Then she wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me against her. I held her tight, grounding myself in her, in her warmth, her scent, the steady beat of her heart.

For a heartbeat, just one, she was my entire world.

Then she leaned back, smiling up at me softly, and the sight of her—gods, I could look at her like this forever. I wanted her smile to never fade, to always be mine to see.

“Go,” she said gently, her lips brushing mine. The kiss was soft, slow, full of things we didn’t say.

I let myself drown in it for a moment, muttering against her mouth, “Fuck it. Bodhi can wait—”

But she pushed me back, her fingers pressing to my chest. “You have to check on him,” she said, her voice low, her eyes steady on mine.

I clenched my jaw, frustration and guilt swirling inside me. “Yeah,” I said, dragging a hand through my hair.

Her gaze sharpened, and she asked, her voice quieter now, more serious, “What happened?”

I felt the guilt twist in my chest, sharp and unrelenting. “I don’t know yet,” I admitted, my voice low. “Bodhi was away on a training mission for the second-years. Garrick didn’t give me details, just that he’s hurt, but alive.”

Something flickered across her face—an expression I couldn’t quite place—but it was gone before I could ask.

I cupped her face, kissed her again, fierce and possessive. “This is far from over,” I murmured against her lips.

She nodded silently, her fingers brushing over mine.

I exhaled and turned away from her, slipping out the door and into the hall, where Garrick was waiting, his face grim and his posture tense.

“Let’s go,” I said, my voice low and resolute, my mind already racing with possibilities, with dread.

Garrick and I hurried through the halls, our footsteps echoing on the stone floor as we took the stairs two at a time, heading up to the second-year floor. The weight of everything that had just happened pressed against my chest, but it wasn’t just Bodhi’s injuries—it was Violet. The lie I’d fed her, clean and smooth, even though it tasted like ash on my tongue.

“You good?” Garrick asked, his voice low but edged with humor, trying to lighten the suffocating tension. “Besides Bodhi getting tackled by a venin, I mean.”

I shot him a sharp look but sighed, scrubbing a hand over my face. “I lied to her,” I muttered. “Straight to her face.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re talking about Violet, right?”

“Of course.” My shoulders sagged under the weight of it, under the realization that even though I’d wanted to protect her, I might’ve only made things worse. “I told her I didn’t know what happened to Bodhi.”

“Well, you didn’t exactly lie ,” Garrick said with a shrug. “You just…omitted some truths.”

I snorted. “The solution is simple then, right? Just tell her.” The bitterness in my voice didn’t escape either of us.

“Exactly.” Garrick slowed as we approached Bodhi’s door. “So why don’t you?”

I hesitated, my lips pressing into a hard line. “Because if I tell her the truth, I’ll have to tell her everything. About the rebellion, about what we’re really up against. That her fucking brother is still alive.”

Garrick stopped just shy of the door, turning to face me fully. “And that would be so bad? For her to know the truth?”

I exhaled sharply, my jaw tightening. “Probably not,” I admitted, my voice dropping to almost a whisper. “But I’m scared, Garrick. Scared I’ll lose her if she finds out I’ve been lying to her all this time.”

He tilted his head, his gaze steady and unflinching. “It’s just going to get worse the longer you wait, Xaden. You know that.”

I clenched my fists at my sides, hating that he was right, hating how much I hated myself for keeping her in the dark. “I know,” I muttered, my voice rough.

Garrick gave me a look—the one that said you’re a stubborn idiot but I’ll stand by you anyway —then pushed open Bodhi’s door and slipped inside.

I lingered for a heartbeat longer, dragging in a slow, unsteady breath. Then I followed him, the weight of everything—of Violet, of Bodhi, of what the hell we were all facing—pressing down like a vice on my chest.

Bodhi was lying back on the bed, his shirt long gone and a bandage wrapped tight around his abdomen. His eyes were half-closed, the shadows beneath them deeper than usual. Imogen sat silently in the chair by the window, her hands folded in her lap, her gaze distant but sharp.

I left the door open a crack as I stepped closer to the bed, my pulse still hammering from the conversation with Violet. “You okay?” I asked quietly, my voice low as I came to stand beside Bodhi.

He gave a weak nod, the corner of his mouth twitching into something that almost passed for a smile. “Been better, but Cuir’s a good landing pad.”

I huffed a dry laugh, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “What the hell happened?”

Bodhi’s lips twisted. “We were making the drop—me, Imogen, and Syrena. Everything was smooth. Then, out of nowhere, three wyvern came in fast, and one of them had a venin riding on its back.” His voice weakened as he spoke, but he kept going.

I swore under my breath. Garrick tensed near the foot of the bed, his arms crossed tight over his chest.

“We fought them off with the flyers. Cat and Syrena were there—Cat’s still hoping you’ll show up for one of these runs so she can drag you into the forest,” Bodhi added, his grin tired but mischievous.

I snorted despite myself, shaking my head. “Sounds like Cat.”

“Yeah, well, we managed to take down two wyvern. Imogen was incredible—” His gaze flicked to her, and Garrick’s pride was clear on his face.

“But the venin’s wyvern was faster. The bastard threw a dagger and—” Bodhi glanced down at his bandaged side. “It buried itself in me. I blacked out on Cuir, and when I came to, we were landing. Managed to dismount, somehow.”

I ran a hand through my hair, the frustration and fear knotting tighter in my chest. “They’re getting stronger,” I muttered. “More of them every time.”

“Yeah,” Bodhi agreed, his voice rough. “More organized, too.”

Garrick straightened. “We need to rethink the next drop.”

I nodded. “Agreed. We’ll go in groups of three from now on. I’ll get a message to General Aisereigh. He needs to know.”

As the words left my mouth, the faintest creak sounded from the hallway. Bodhi’s eyes widened, his face paling further as he looked past me, over my shoulder. “Oh fuck,” he breathed.

My pulse spiked, and I turned, dread twisting low in my gut.

There, standing in the doorway, was Violet.

Her wide blue and hazel eyes locked on mine, her lips parted, a thousand silent questions written across her face. The fragile hope I’d clung to earlier—of her not finding out, of sparing her from all this—shattered in a heartbeat.

Violet

A Venin attack. Venin. Are real.

The words echoed like a thunderclap inside my skull, making it impossible to think straight, impossible to breathe. I stood frozen in the doorway to Bodhi’s room, my entire world tilting off its axis.

I’d followed them. I wasn’t even sure why at first. Maybe it was the way Xaden had tensed up, the way he’d left me without really answering my question, the way Garrick had hovered outside my door. The conversation had been hushed, hurried, but I’d caught just enough to hear Bodhi’s name, something about an “incident,” and the faintest whisper of a word that chilled me to my marrow.

Venin.

I thought I was hearing things. Thought I was reading into it too much, imagining ghosts where there were none. But now, standing here in the doorway, my stomach twisted into knots as the truth settled over me like a crushing weight.

They’re real. And Xaden knew.

He lied.

I felt my hands trembling at my sides, my breath catching in my throat. My heart pounded so loudly I was sure they could all hear it, pounding in time with the rushing of blood in my ears.

Xaden turned slowly, his expression shifting from frustration to shock as his dark eyes locked onto mine. His lips parted like he was about to say something—anything—but the words didn’t come.

I couldn’t make sense of this, couldn’t reconcile the pieces in front of me. My knees felt weak, and I had to brace myself against the doorframe just to stay standing.

Bodhi’s pale, bloodless face, Imogen’s quiet presence, Garrick’s glance of warning—and Xaden. Xaden standing there, guilt written across every tense line of his body, guilt and something else.

Regret.

I wanted to scream, wanted to demand an explanation, to yell at him for lying to me. But all that came out was a strangled whisper. “Venin are real?”

Xaden’s mouth tightened, his shoulders rising as though he were bracing for a blow.

“Violet,” he started, his voice rough and low.

But I wasn’t ready to hear it. Not yet. My mind was spinning too fast, my pulse too loud, my thoughts fractured and scattered like glass.

I took a step back, my foot scraping softly against the wooden floor. “You lied,” I whispered, my voice breaking.

He moved toward me, instinctively, as though he could pull me back with nothing more than his presence. But I couldn’t let him.

I shook my head, taking another step back. “I—I need a minute.”

The room was closing in, the weight of the truth pressing down on me, suffocating me.

I turned, stumbling into the hall, needing air, needing space, needing to think.

***

I paced the length of my room, my thoughts a tangled mess of confusion and fury. My hands trembled at my sides, and my heart felt like it was trying to claw its way out of my chest.

“Tairn,” I whispered, almost afraid to hear the answer. “Is it true? Are Venin real?”

The ancient dragon’s voice rumbled through my mind, quiet but certain. “It’s true. The stories your quadrant tells are just that—stories. The real threat has always been the Venin.”

I stopped, bracing myself against the wall as the weight of his words hit me. My stomach churned. The outposts, the weapon drops, the whispered warnings—it wasn’t just political maneuvering, it was survival. The Venin were real, and they were closing in.

But that wasn’t the worst of it.

Xaden had known.

He’d lied to me, withheld the truth when I asked, made me feel safe while the world was so much more dangerous than I’d ever imagined.

A sharp knock on my door startled me out of my spiraling thoughts. I hesitated, my hand hovering over the handle.

“Violet,” Xaden’s voice came through the door, low and rough. “Please. I need to talk to you.”

I stood frozen, torn between slamming the door in his face and wanting to hear what he had to say. My pulse pounded as I finally twisted the handle and opened the door just wide enough to see him.

His dark eyes were desperate, his usual composure cracked. “Please. Let me in.”

Against my better judgment, I stepped aside, letting him slip inside.

“Talk,” I said, my voice tight, my arms crossed over my chest.

He drew in a shaky breath, his jaw tense as he finally met my gaze. “The Venin aren’t just stories, Violet. They’re real. They’re growing in number, and they’re attacking—attacking harder, pushing further. But it’s not just them. The flyers—they’re hitting outposts too, but not just because they’re enemies of Navarre.”

He stepped closer, his voice rough with frustration and guilt. “They’re after the alloy-hilted daggers. It’s the only thing that can kill a Venin. Navarre’s been hoarding them, forging them in secret, and the flyers know it. That’s why they’re attacking—they’re desperate to arm themselves because their wards are failing. Poromiel has no defenses against the Venin. The drifts are falling, and without those weapons, they’re doomed.”

I stared at him, every word sinking into me like a knife.

“That’s why we’re making the drops,” he continued, the weight of the confession dragging his shoulders down. “It’s why we’ve risked everything. We’re stealing from the forges, but we can only take so much because those same weapons power the wards protecting Navarre. We’re walking a knife’s edge—take too many and the wards here fall, take too few and the drifts don’t stand a chance.”

His jaw tightened, his eyes darkening. “That’s why your mother and the leadership keep lying. They don’t want anyone to know what’s really happening. They don’t want anyone to realize just how close we are to losing everything.”

I stared at him, every word echoing through the hollow space his lies had carved in my chest. “You lied to me,” I said, my voice shaking. “You stood there and lied right to my face.”

“I know,” he said, stepping closer, his tone low and rough with regret. “I know I did, Violet. And I hate myself for it.”

“Why?” The word tore from me like a broken sob. “Why couldn’t you just tell me?”

“Because at first, you were a perfect night away from everything,” he admitted, his voice raw, his eyes searching mine like they could find forgiveness there. “I thought you were just… one night, a beautiful, impossible distraction. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. And then you were there—at the Parapet. And my world—it felt like it was ripped from under my feet.”

I blinked at him, my breath catching as he took another step toward me, his hands hovering at his sides like he wanted to reach for me but didn’t dare.

“You were Violet Sorrengail. The enemy’s daughter,” he said, the words bitter on his tongue. “And I wanted to hate you. I should have hated you. But I couldn’t. Because then you were Violence. You were stubborn, infuriating, brave—you were you. And I knew I was screwed.”

I shook my head, tears burning my eyes. “You should have told me. I deserved to know.”

“I know,” he said, his voice breaking. “But I was scared, Violet. Scared that if you knew, you’d be in even more danger. That if I told you, it would paint a target on your back bigger than the one Tairn already gave you. I didn’t want you dragged into this war, into the mess I’ve been tangled in my entire life. I thought—I thought I was protecting you.”

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. “That’s bullshit, Xaden. You weren’t protecting me. You were trying to keep your secrets.”

His face twisted, the guilt plain in his eyes. “You’re right. I was trying to keep you safe, and I fucked it up. I was trying to protect you from the world I live in, but all I did was hurt you. And I hate myself for it. Gods, Violet, I hate myself for it.”

I folded my arms tightly across my chest, fighting the pull to go to him, to let him wrap me up in his arms and tell me it would be okay. “You lied,” I whispered again, voice trembling.

“I know,” he said, his voice a low rasp. He finally closed the distance, standing so close I could feel the heat of him, the tremor in his hands. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it right. But please—please don’t shut me out.”

I looked up at him, at the desperation in his eyes, and my heart clenched painfully in my chest. I wanted to hate him, to scream, to tell him to leave. But instead, I found myself whispering, “I don’t know if I can trust you.”

His jaw tightened, shadows rippling faintly around him. “I’ll prove it to you,” he said quietly. “Every day, every breath, I’ll prove it. Just… don’t walk away from me, Violence. Please.”

My breath caught, the ache in his voice breaking something inside me. And despite the fury, the betrayal, the pain—I found myself trembling on the edge of forgiveness.

Chapter Text

Violet

I crossed my arms, my heart twisting painfully as I looked at him. “I get it,” I said quietly, my voice unsteady. “You wanted to protect me. But you lied, Xaden. And I don’t know if I can forgive that.”

His hands twitched at his sides, his expression crumpling. “I’ll do anything, Violence. Anything to earn back your trust. Just tell me how.”

I swallowed hard, my chest tightening. “Is there anything else?” I asked, my voice dropping low. “Anything else I don’t know?”

He went still, the shadows under his skin seeming to retreat, his jaw tightening.

“There is, isn’t there?” I breathed, my stomach knotting, the weight of everything pressing down on me. “Tell me.”

Xaden closed his eyes, his lips parting like he was struggling to find the words. Slowly, he reached out, taking my hand in his. His touch was warm, grounding, and yet it made my skin tingle with dread.

“Come here,” he murmured, leading me to the bed. We sat, our knees barely brushing, his thumb brushing over my knuckles as if he could soothe away the storm.

He took a deep breath, his gaze locked on mine, filled with something raw and vulnerable. “Yes, Violence,” he said softly, the weight of the confession trembling in his voice. “There is.”

Xaden

I sat there, my heart pounding against my ribs, terrified. My chest felt like it was caving in, suffocating me with the weight of everything I was about to say. What if this was it? What if this was the moment she looked at me and saw nothing but betrayal?

For a few precious moments, I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t breathe.

“Tell me, Xaden.” Her voice was low, trembling with restrained fury. “Now, or I swear to Malek you will walk out that door, and I will never let you back inside.”

Her words slammed into me like a blade, and my head snapped up, locking onto her eyes. The fire in them, the hurt, the fear—I couldn’t stand it.

I nodded slowly, swallowing against the lump in my throat. “What I’m about to tell you…” My voice cracked, and I forced it steady. “You can’t tell anyone, Violence. You have to promise me. It’s one of Aretia’s biggest secrets.”

Her breath hitched, her brow furrowing as she searched my face. After a long, heavy pause, she gave a faint nod. “I promise.”

I drew in a deep breath, as if trying to gather the shattered pieces of my courage. “Your brother is alive,” I said quietly, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. “Brennan. He’s alive. He lives in Aretia under an alias. He’s been helping to coordinate the resistance, to keep it hidden, to protect it. To protect you.”

Her face crumpled as if I’d just shattered her world into pieces. Tears welled in her eyes, her hand trembling as she pulled it away from mine. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “No.”

“Violet—” I reached for her, but she recoiled, her breathing turning shallow and fast, her chest rising and falling like she couldn’t catch enough air.

“Breathe, Violence,” I murmured, panic clawing at my insides as I crouched in front of her. “Come on, just breathe. In. Out. I’ve got you.”

I pulled her into my arms, her trembling body sagging against me. Her tears soaked through my shirt, and I held her tighter, murmuring apologies, broken words. “I’m so sorry. I should have told you. I wanted to. I wanted to protect you from everything, from this. I didn’t know how.”

She pulled back slightly, her tear-streaked face tilted up to mine, her eyes swimming with betrayal and pain.

“How could he?” she whispered, her voice cracking on the words. “How could he let us grieve for him? My dad died of sorrow over him.”

Her sobs tore through the quiet room, and I gathered her closer, my hands cradling her trembling form. I didn’t have the words. I didn’t have the right.

All I could do was hold her as she cried, the weight of the truth crashing down around us.

I pulled her gently, guiding her to lie down with me on the bed. She curled into my chest like she belonged there, her body trembling, her tears soaking into my shirt. I held her as if I could physically keep her from breaking apart, whispering into her hair.

“I’m sorry, Violence. I’m so godsdamned sorry.” My lips brushed the crown of her head. “I’ll spend the rest of my life making this right. I swear it.”

She sobbed harder for a moment, then her voice cracked as she whispered, “I get it. I’m not mad.”

If I hadn’t already been lying down, I would have dropped to my knees in sheer relief. Instead, I tightened my arms around her, holding her like she was my lifeline, like letting go would break me completely.

“I’ll make it up to you,” I promised, my voice raw. “For the rest of my life, Violence. I’ll make it up to you.”

She pressed even closer, her breath hitching, her hand fisting in my shirt. I felt her heartbeat against mine, fragile but steady.

“There has to be complete honesty from now on,” she murmured, her voice muffled against my chest. “Another lie and I’m gone for good.”

I swallowed hard, guilt tightening its grip around my throat. “I promise,” I said hoarsely, though the weight of the deal I’d made with her mother—the betrothal to Cat—loomed heavy in my mind. I’d tell her. I would. Just… not tonight. She’d heard enough for today.

After a moment, her voice was steadier, though her words sent my pulse into overdrive. “I’m coming on the next drop.”

“No,” I said immediately, the word sharp in the air.

“Yes,” she argued, pulling back just enough to meet my eyes, her stubborn chin tilting up. “I’m coming. I’m part of this now.”

I groaned, pressing my forehead against hers, breathing her in, hating how much she was right, how much I couldn’t say no to her. She was violence incarnate—fierce, unyielding, and utterly captivating.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” I muttered, my lips brushing hers.

“Promise me,” she whispered, her breath trembling against my skin.

I sighed, caving in completely. “Fine. You’re coming.”

She smiled, a tired but genuine curve of her lips, and in that moment, I knew—no matter what came next, no matter how hard or dangerous—it would be her and me. Always.

***

We lay there for a while, tangled up in each other, her breathing finally slowing as I whispered soft apologies into her hair. I didn’t want to let her go, but I knew I had to—except I couldn’t make myself pull away.

After a while, she shifted against me, her voice low. “So, are you done, then?”

I blinked. “What?”

“Pushing me away,” she said, her tone sharper now as she pushed lightly at my chest.

I sighed, dragging a hand down my face. “Yeah,” I admitted, my voice rough. “I tried. I tried so hard to keep my distance because you couldn’t know. I thought it was the only way to keep you safe, but I was so fucking wrong.”

“Okay,” she said, her eyes flashing with fire as she braced her palms on my chest. “But if you ever try that again, I will wipe the mat with your ass.”

A laugh broke free, surprising us both. “In your dreams, Sorrengail,” I teased, catching her around the waist.

Before I could react, she shifted us with a swift, practiced move that left her straddling me, her knees bracketing my hips. She leaned down, her lips brushing my neck, her breath a hot tease against my skin.

“You’re mine, Riorson,” she whispered, her voice a sultry promise. Her teeth grazed my earlobe, sending a jolt straight to my groin.

I groaned, my hands gripping her hips, pulling her tighter against me as her hips rolled, her heat grinding down on my already hard cock. My jaw clenched, a low growl rumbling in my chest.

In one fluid motion, I flipped us, pressing her into the mattress. My mouth found hers, claiming her in a kiss that was all heat and desperation, our breaths mingling as my hands roamed her body. I tugged her shirt over her head, tossing it aside, my fingers tracing the delicate curve of her waist, the soft swell of her breasts.

She made quick work of my shirt, dragging it up and over my head, her nails raking down my chest, leaving faint red trails in their wake. Her touch sent shivers racing down my spine.

I kissed my way down her neck, lingering at the delicate hollow of her throat before moving lower, tasting her skin, feeling her arch beneath me. My mouth closed around one taut nipple, sucking gently before I moved to the other, savoring her moans as they echoed off the walls.

I continued downward, kissing her ribs, her stomach, until I was hovering over the waistband of her leggings. I met her gaze, her eyes heavy-lidded with desire, her lips parted in anticipation. Slowly, deliberately, I slid them down her legs, her soaked panties following, revealing her completely to me.

“Gods, look at you,” I murmured, my voice thick with need.

I settled between her thighs, spreading her open, inhaling the intoxicating scent of her arousal. My tongue flicked out, tasting her, savoring the way her hips bucked against me, her hands fisting in the sheets. I licked deeper, my tongue working her clit in slow, deliberate strokes, drawing out her pleasure.

“Xaden,” she gasped, her voice breaking, her thighs trembling around my head.

I groaned, the vibrations sending a shiver through her. “That’s it, Violence. Let me taste you. Gods, you’re so sweet,” I murmured, my words muffled against her slick heat.

Her cries spurred me on, my tongue and lips working her with relentless focus. I slipped a finger inside her, feeling her clench around me as I found that perfect spot, coaxing her higher.

“Come for me, Violence,” I growled against her, my voice rough and commanding. “I want to feel you shatter on my tongue.”

Her release hit her hard, her body arching off the bed, her cry sharp and broken as she pulsed around my finger, her taste flooding my mouth. I licked her through it, riding every wave of her pleasure, savoring every tremor and moan until she was spent, sagging boneless against the sheets.

I pulled back just enough to watch her, flushed and trembling, her eyes half-lidded with bliss.

“You’re mine,” I whispered, my voice a raw promise against her skin.

Violet pulled me up to her, her lips crashing into mine as her hands fumbled with the waistband of my pants. I groaned into her mouth, the taste of her still on my tongue, the urgency in her touch making my pulse thunder. Together, we worked my pants down my hips, our movements frantic, desperate. I kicked them off, and she shifted beneath me, her hands running over my chest, down my abs, tracing every muscle like she was memorizing me.

“You’re beautiful,” she whispered, her voice raw with emotion, her breath ghosting over my skin. My heart clenched tight at her words, the simple truth of them shaking me to my core.

Before I could say anything, she flipped us, straddling me, her naked body bathed in the dim light filtering through the curtains. Her hair cascaded around her face like a halo, her eyes dark and hungry as she gripped me in her hand, stroking me once, twice, her touch sending shudders through me.

“Violet,” I groaned, my hips bucking into her hand, needing her more than I needed air.

She lined me up with her entrance, her body poised above mine, her lips parting on a soft gasp as she slowly sank down onto me. We both moaned at the contact, the overwhelming feeling of finally being connected, of finally having her surrounding me, hot and tight.

“Gods,” I breathed, my hands gripping her hips as she took me in, inch by inch, until I was buried to the hilt inside her.

Her head fell back, her lips parted as a shudder wracked her frame. “You feel so good,” she gasped, her hands braced against my chest as she started to move, slow and deliberate, rolling her hips against mine.

I met her thrust for thrust, lifting my hips to match her pace, my fingers digging into her flesh, guiding her movements. “You’re driving me crazy,” I growled, my voice rough with need. “You’re mine, Violence. All fucking mine.”

“Yes,” she gasped, her nails scoring my shoulders as she rode me harder, faster. “Yours. Always.”

I surged up, capturing her mouth with mine, our kisses frantic and messy, teeth clashing, tongues tangling. She broke the kiss to gasp for air, her forehead pressed to mine, her breath warm against my skin.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Please, Xaden. Don’t ever stop.”

I flipped us again, driving into her deeper, her cries breaking the silence of the room. I pinned her wrists above her head, holding her there as I thrust into her with long, hard strokes. “I couldn’t stop if I tried,” I rasped against her ear. “I need you. So godsdamn much.”

Her legs wrapped around my waist, pulling me deeper, her heels digging into my back as she met each thrust with equal desperation. Her moans spurred me on, her gasps of my name pushing me closer to the edge.

I slid one hand between us, finding the bundle of nerves that made her arch and cry out. “Come for me again, Violence,” I demanded, my voice a dark promise against her neck. “I want to feel you fall apart on me.”

Her release shattered her, her body tightening around me, her moan breaking on my name as she came. I felt the hot pull, the almost overwhelming need to let go and lose myself with her, but I gritted my teeth, holding back. I wasn’t done with her yet.

“Not yet, Violence,” I growled, pulling out of her only to flip her onto her hands and knees, her ass high, her back arching perfectly for me. My hands gripped her hips, positioning her as I slid back inside, burying myself to the hilt.

She gasped, her body shuddering around me, still so sensitive. I thrust into her deep and slow, watching her tremble beneath me. “Give me one more,” I murmured against her ear, my voice dark with desire. “One more orgasm, Violence. I want to feel you come around my cock one more time.”

She whimpered, pushing back against me, her body already close again. I reached around, fingers working her clit, driving her higher, faster. Her breath hitched, her hands clawing at the sheets as I drove her over the edge again.

“Xaden,” she cried, her body convulsing around me, her walls tightening in a shuddering climax that had me seeing stars. My shadows snapped out around us, curling along the walls, flickering like living things.

I finally let go, thrusting deep, my groan ripped from my throat as I spilled into her, my body tensing, pleasure crashing over me in waves. I held her tight, riding out every last shudder, my lips pressed to her shoulder, my shadows wrapping protectively around her as we collapsed together.

We stayed there, breathing hard, connected, consumed. Her warmth, her scent, her fire was the only thing anchoring me in that moment. I never wanted to leave her embrace.

We lay tangled together, our bodies slick with sweat, our breaths mingling as the echoes of release faded into the quiet of the room. Her cheek rested against my chest, her hair damp and wild against my skin. My heart raced in sync with hers, each beat a silent confession I wasn’t brave enough to voice.

I ran my fingers through her hair, absently twisting the soft strands around my fingers. “You’re going to be the death of me, Violence,” I murmured softly, my voice a low rumble against her ear.

She hummed, pressing a kiss against my collarbone, her lips warm and lingering. “I thought I was the one in danger,” she teased, her voice still breathless, her body lax against mine.

I couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound vibrating through my chest. “You’ve always been the danger.”

Her laughter, soft and beautiful, filled the room. I brushed her hair back from her face, tilting her chin so I could meet her eyes. They were heavy-lidded, her cheeks flushed from our passion, her lips still swollen from my kisses. Gods, she was perfect.

“Xaden,” she whispered, her voice a mix of exhaustion and something sweeter, softer.

I kissed her gently, brushing my lips over hers in a way that spoke of all the things I couldn’t say aloud. “I’m not letting you go,” I murmured, pressing my forehead to hers.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” she murmured back, her smile a quiet, fragile thing that made my chest ache.

We stayed like that, wrapped in each other, the world outside momentarily forgotten. My shadows coiled lazily around us, content in their stillness, and for a rare, perfect moment, everything was right.

Violet

I woke to warmth, a cocoon of heat and safety wrapping around me. My mind surfaced slowly from sleep, and I blinked against the soft morning light filtering through the window. My head was nestled against a solid chest, his heartbeat a steady, grounding thrum under my ear.

I lifted my gaze, my breath catching in my throat as I took in the sight of Xaden, still asleep. His dark hair was a tousled mess against the pillow, his face relaxed, younger somehow in sleep. His lips were slightly parted, the scar through his eyebrow stark against the pale light. My fingers itched to touch, and before I could stop myself, I traced the line of his brow, brushing over the scar, down the sharp line of his cheekbone, then the curve of his jaw.

My touch made him stir, his lips twitching into a smile before his eyes fluttered open, soft and full of sleep as they landed on me. That smile—real, warm, unguarded—made my heart stutter. He moved before I could speak, rolling me beneath him, his weight pinning me deliciously to the bed.

“I could get used to this,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep and a hint of that teasing edge I adored.

“So could I,” I whispered back, breathless.

His mouth descended to mine, slow and searching, tasting me like I was something precious. My hands slid into his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss as his tongue coaxed mine into a lazy dance. We were still naked, skin pressed to skin, and I felt him harden against me, his cock brushing the slick heat between my thighs.

I gasped into his mouth as he rolled his hips, grinding into me. The friction sent a wave of need rushing through me, my nails digging into his shoulders. “Xaden,” I breathed, my voice breaking.

“Gods, I need you,” he murmured, his lips tracing a path down my neck, nipping lightly at the sensitive spot behind my ear.

I arched into him, my legs parting as he slipped inside me with a low groan. The stretch of him filled me perfectly, and we both stilled, savoring the sensation of being joined.

This wasn’t fast or frenzied—it was slow, deliberate. He moved within me with a gentle roll of his hips, his hands roaming over my body, tracing every curve and dip like he was memorizing me.

“You feel so fucking good, Violence,” he murmured, his voice a rough, reverent whisper against my skin. His thumb brushed over my nipple, sending a shudder through me.

I clung to him, my legs wrapping around his waist, urging him deeper. “Don’t stop,” I gasped, my voice trembling with need.

“Never,” he promised, his lips finding mine again, swallowing my moans as he thrust deeper, slower, drawing the pleasure out until it was a sweet, torturous ache.

Our bodies moved in perfect sync, every glide of his hips drawing me closer to the edge. My breath hitched, my nails scraping down his back. “I’m close,” I whispered, my voice raw.

“Me too,” he groaned, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more desperate. “Come with me, Violence.”

I shattered around him, my body tightening, pulsing with release, and his name broke from my lips like a prayer. He followed me over the edge, a deep groan tearing from his throat as he spilled inside me, his body trembling against mine.

We stayed like that, tangled together, his weight pressing me into the bed, his breath warm against my neck. His cock twitched inside me, and I felt him soften, but neither of us moved. I ran my fingers over his shoulders, tracing the lines of muscle and the sweep of his rebellion relic.

“I could stay like this forever,” I whispered, and I felt his lips curve against my skin.

“Me too,” he murmured, his voice rough and full of something I wasn’t ready to name.

Eventually, the world would come crashing back in. But for now, in the quiet afterglow, it was just us.

Chapter Text

Violet

The early morning light bled soft and golden across the walls of my room, but I barely noticed it. I tried to slide out of Xaden’s grasp, my legs tangling with the sheets, but his arms tightened around me like steel bands.

“I’m not letting you go,” he murmured against my hair, his voice rough with sleep and something that sounded almost like…vulnerability. “I’ll just keep you here in my arms, and the world can fuck off.”

I laughed softly, sinking into the curve of his body. “You’re impossible,” I said, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“And you’re mine,” he replied, his hand sliding down my back in a lazy caress.

“For now,” I teased, wriggling free enough to look at him. His dark eyes locked on mine, and the raw intensity there made my breath hitch. “I need to shower.”

“I want you to smell like me,” he said, low and possessive, nuzzling my neck as if to mark me.

A startled laugh bubbled out of me. “You’re ridiculous,” I whispered, though I couldn’t help but arch into his touch.

“Shower later,” he growled softly.

“Xaden,” I warned playfully, managing to sit up, though his arms stubbornly tugged me back. “We have to be at formation in an hour. And you need to check on Bodhi.”

“Bodhi’s fine,” he grumbled. “Sgaeyl said he’s already up and walking. He’ll be at formation, too.”

I gave him a look. “You have to lead a wing today.”

A long-suffering groan rumbled from his chest as he reluctantly let me go, flopping back against the bed like he’d just surrendered a war. “Fine,” he muttered.

I stood, gathering my clothes, and threw on my robe as he sat up and started getting dressed. I could feel his eyes on me the entire time, the weight of his gaze almost making me stumble.

As I turned toward the bathroom, he caught my wrist, spinning me back to him. His mouth crashed onto mine, hot and urgent, and I melted against the armoire behind me. His kiss devoured me, stole every coherent thought, until we were both breathless.

When he finally broke away, he rested his forehead against mine, his breath warm against my lips. “I’ll see you when I see you,” he murmured, his voice tinged with something that made my heart ache and soar at the same time.

I brushed my lips against his, a soft promise. “I’ll see you when I see you,” I whispered back.

He squeezed my waist once, then slipped into the hallway, his presence gone but leaving behind a lingering heat in the air.

I waited a few minutes, letting the world slow around me, my smile wide and utterly helpless. Then I gathered my things and headed for the bathroom, the thought of him—and the promise of later—thrumming through me like a song.

Xaden

As Captain Fitzgibbons read the death roll, the names were little more than a drone in my ears. My gaze scanned the crowd of cadets—new schedules were being rattled off, flight maneuvers and wielding classes added to the first-years’ days—but all I could see was her.

Violet-fucking-Sorrengail.

She stood among her friends, her silver hair catching the sunlight like moonlight woven into silk. I had to force my mouth to stay in a tight line, my jaw tensing against the ridiculous urge to groan. If I wasn’t careful, it would be obvious to everyone in this damn field just how badly I wanted her.

“The most powerful rider in the quadrant, reduced to a lovesick fool,” Sgaeyl drawled in my mind, her voice smooth with mocking amusement. “ All that power and command, yet here you are, flustered like a teenager over some silver-haired girl.”

I clenched my jaw, trying—and failing—to hide the flush that threatened to rise up my neck.

“She’s not a girl ,” I snapped, the sharpness of my thought reverberating through the bond, slicing through the air like a dagger. My pulse was a steady beat of frustration and something dangerously close to possessiveness.

Tairn’s low, rumbling growl echoed through the shared bond, his disapproval vibrating in my very bones. His protective instincts mirrored mine, a silent agreement that Violet—our Violet—was not just some girl.

“She’s not a girl, she’s…” I couldn’t finish the thought, couldn’t put into words the way she made me feel, like I was standing at the edge of a cliff, ready to fall and soar at the same time.

“Proves my point , ” Sgaeyl huffed, her amusement curling around me like smoke. “ You’re completely lost over her, Xaden. And I’ve never seen you like this before.”

I muttered a silent curse under my breath, dragging my gaze back to Violet as she laughed at something Ridoc said, her head thrown back, the light catching the strands of her silver hair like liquid moonlight.

“And you don’t even care,” Sgaeyl added with a mental chuckle. “ You’re utterly, hopelessly hers.”

I was still trying to wrestle Sgaeyl’s mocking laughter out of my mind when Garrick’s elbow nudged me hard in the ribs.

“You look like you’re two seconds from grabbing her and hauling her into the shadows,” he muttered, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Shut up,” I growled, but the flush on the back of my neck betrayed me.

“She’s got you wrapped around her little finger,” he continued, clearly delighted. “I’ve never seen you like this, Riorson. Who knew a good fuck could turn the brooding wingleader into a lovesick sap?”

I elbowed him back—harder this time—earning a grunt of pain from him and a laugh. But even as I scowled at him, I couldn’t stop my own lips from quirking upward.

Garrick’s eyes softened, and he clapped a hand on my shoulder. “I’m happy for you, man. Really.”

I swallowed hard, my throat tight with the weight of it. I wasn’t used to this—people seeing me, seeing how deeply Violet had already woven herself into every fiber of my being. How just the thought of her, laughing with her friends, her eyes sparkling, could make me feel both invincible and terrified all at once.

“I’ll be happy when I know she’s safe,” I muttered under my breath, my gaze flicking back to her, soaking her in like she was the only light left in the world.

“Careful, Riorson,” Garrick said with a low chuckle, “you’re starting to sound like you’re in love.”

I clenched my jaw, but I couldn’t deny it. Couldn’t deny the truth tightening in my chest, wrapping around my heart like a chain.

Because I was.

And gods help me, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to let her go.

Chapter Text

Xaden

The late afternoon sun painted the flight field in gold, a deceptive warmth brushing over the cadets as they wrapped up training. My gaze locked on her—Violet—wobbling slightly as she dismounted Tairn, her cheeks flushed, her silver hair tangled and wind-whipped. She was exhausted but radiant, and my chest tightened with something dangerous.

I caught her arm as she passed, drawing her aside with a quiet, “You’re improving.”

Her breath hitched, her hazel and blue eyes flickering up at mine, and I softened my voice. “But you’re also pushing yourself too hard. You need more than brute effort to keep your seat.”

Before she could argue, I tilted my head toward where Imogen stood, her arms crossed and a perpetual scowl on her face. “Imogen’s going to help you.”

“What?” Violet blinked. “Rhiannon and Sawyer are already training with me for combat.”

“That’s great. They’ll help with technique. Imogen’s going to help you build the muscle to keep yourself in the saddle.”

Imogen’s brow arched. “I’m not a personal trainer, Riorson.”

“She’ll pay you back in drinks,” I countered, smirking.

With a resigned huff, Imogen relented, though she shot Violet a less-than-friendly glance. “Fine. But don’t expect me to coddle her.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Violet muttered, squaring her shoulders.

Imogen turned to leave, her voice drifting over her shoulder. “Don’t get too distracted, Wingleader. Try to keep your focus off her ass for five minutes.”

Violet flushed a deep crimson, and I grinned, ignoring the way my pulse spiked as I watched her glare after Imogen.

Once we were alone, the tension between us thickened. I stepped closer, unable to stop myself. “You know,” I murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, “she’s right. You’re a distraction. The worst one.”

Her lips parted, a soft exhale escaping her. “Is that so?”

Without waiting, I took her hand and tugged her around the corner of the Citadel, into the shadows where no one could see us.

The second we were hidden from view, I pressed her back against the cold stone wall, my mouth finding hers in a kiss that burned through every inch of me. She gasped softly against my lips, her hands threading into my hair, her hips arching into mine.

“Gods, you taste like sin,” I groaned, grinding against her, feeling the hard press of my arousal against her thigh.

“You’re going to get us caught,” she whispered breathlessly, though her nails dragged lightly down my neck, sending a shiver down my spine.

“Let them watch,” I muttered, nipping at her bottom lip, “because they’ll see exactly who you belong to.”

Her head fell back against the wall, her breath catching as I kissed down her throat, my hands gripping her hips, pulling her flush against me. Her body molded perfectly to mine, her soft moan breaking the thin thread of control I had left.

“Xaden…” she gasped, her voice a low plea, her legs parting slightly to let me settle closer.

I groaned into her neck, my hands gripping her tighter, wanting nothing more than to rip off those tight flight leathers and bury myself inside her. But not here. Not now.

“Fuck,” I muttered, breaking the kiss, my forehead resting against hers. “I want you so badly, but we can’t. Not here.”

She nodded, her breath shuddering against my lips, her body trembling with barely-contained need. “I know,” she whispered, but the look in her eyes told me she wanted it just as much.

I kissed her one more time, slow and deep, savoring the taste of her as if I could imprint her on my tongue forever. Then, with a growl of frustration, I pulled back slightly, keeping her pinned against the wall with the weight of my body.

“When this is over,” I promised her softly, my voice a rough whisper, “you’re mine. Fully.”

Her lips curved into a wicked smile, her fingers trailing down my chest. “And you’re mine.”

I grinned, pressed a final kiss to her forehead, and reluctantly stepped back, adjusting myself as I tried to regain my composure.

“Back to reality,” I sighed, though my mind was still very much in the shadows with her, imagining everything we’d do once we were alone again.

Violet

The early morning sky was a crisp blue, and the chill of the wind bit against my skin as Tairn soared high above the flight field. The other first-years maneuvered clumsily below us, but my focus was entirely on the massive, obsidian-scaled dragon beneath me.

Hold on, Violet, I reminded myself as he dove into a tight spiral. My stomach lurched, my thighs screaming with effort, but my grip on the saddle slipped—again.

“Tairn!” I gasped as I started sliding.

With an irritated rumble, he flared his wings, catching me effortlessly with a subtle jolt that pressed me back into the saddle.

“I’m fine,” I muttered, though my face was flushed with humiliation.

“You’re not fine,” he huffed in my mind. “ If I hadn’t caught you, you’d be splattered across the field. Again.”

“You don’t have to make the maneuvers so complicated,” I grumbled. “I can’t keep up.”

His snort echoed through the bond. “ Don’t insult me. I’m not going to embarrass myself in front of these hatchlings by holding back. You’re my rider now, and we will be the best.”

I groaned under my breath. “Your ego is bigger than your wingspan.”

“It’s proportionate to my power. Try to keep up”, he shot back, amusement coloring his words.

“I’m trying,” I muttered, adjusting my seat.

“I can assist,” he offered, a hint of mockery threading through his voice. “ A little magical support, and you’ll stick to the saddle like sap on bark.”

“No.” I straightened my back, my core muscles burning. “I’m not cheating.”

“That’s not cheating. It’s strategy.”

I laughed softly. “You’re impossible.”

“You’ll learn to appreciate me”, he rumbled, but there was a distinct note of affection in his voice.

“Where’s Andarna?” I asked, noticing her absence.

“She can’t keep up”, Tairn said with an indulgent snort.

“ I can too! ” Andarna’s small, indignant voice rang through the bond. “ I just don’t want to waste my energy on your silly power displays!”

Tairn let out a low, rumbling laugh, and I couldn’t help but join in, the bond between us tightening with every shared moment.

Despite my frustration, I felt a warmth settle in my chest. This was my family now, whether I was ready for it or not.

After practice, my thighs ached, and my arms felt like jelly. I slid down Tairn’s leg with a groan, wincing as my feet hit the ground.

Dain was waiting near the edge of the field, his posture tense.

“Violet,” he called, jogging over. Tairn growled low in his chest.

I sighed inwardly but turned to face him, brushing stray strands of silver hair from my face. “Hey.”

“I just—I wanted to apologize for the kiss,” he said, his voice low and strained. “It wasn’t fair to you.”

Relief bloomed in my chest, but before I could speak, he continued.

“I just… I can’t risk it,” he added, looking down. “I want to be wingleader next year, and rumors—well, they could ruin that. I have to stay focused. I hope you understand.”

The words hit me like a slap. The relief twisted into something sharp, something bitter. My stomach churned.

“I see,” I said quietly, my voice cool.

“I hope we can still be friends,” he added, giving me a weak smile.

“Of course,” I said, forcing a smile I didn’t feel. But as he turned and walked away, the cracks in my view of Dain Aetos grew wider, splintering into something irreparable.

*** three days later ***

The flight field buzzed with nervous chatter, the tension thick enough to choke on. Professor Kaori’s voice rang out, sharp and clear, as he stepped into the center.

“There are forty-one unbonded riders left,” he announced, his gaze sweeping over us. “And for those of you who have bonded, this is your weakest point. Your dragons may be bonded, but those bonds are fragile. Fail, and you risk losing them to an unbonded cadet. Stay vigilant.”

I straightened, my hands clenched into fists.

“You don’t need to worry about that,” Tairn’s voice rumbled deep in my mind, his tone almost dismissive. “ I don’t want anyone else. And I certainly won’t bond with some pathetic wretch who thinks they can replace you.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of my lips, and I reached out to scratch the scales just behind his jaw before he took off with the others.

I left the flight field with Rhiannon, Sawyer, and Ridoc. Even with the weight of secrets pressing on me—the truth about Brennan, the Venin, the gnawing guilt of lying to them—I felt…lighter.

“Okay, why are you smiling like a maniac?” Rhiannon nudged my shoulder, a knowing grin tugging at her lips.

Ridoc smirked, sidling closer. “Yeah, Vi. You’ve been keeping secrets. You haven’t told us what really went down with Riorson in your room the other night.”

I felt my cheeks heat instantly, and I glanced away, trying and failing to suppress the grin stretching across my face.

“Shut up,” I muttered, but my voice was too soft to carry any real weight.

They all laughed as we reached the dining hall and claimed our usual table. I slid onto the bench, my smile lingering as my thoughts drifted to Xaden.

“He finally stopped pretending we could stay away from each other,” I admitted, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. My cheeks flushed hotter. “He’s…complicated, but gods, he’s worth it.”

Rhiannon squealed softly, and Ridoc let out a low whistle.

Sawyer grinned. “I swear it’s getting hotter in here just from the way you two are looking at each other across the hall.”

I risked a glance toward the wingleaders’ table. Xaden sat among the other section leaders and squad leaders, his dark hair catching the candlelight. He met my gaze, his lips curling into a slow, knowing smile that sent heat rushing through my body.

I quickly looked away, laughing under my breath. “Shut up, all of you.”

“You’re glowing,” Rhiannon teased, nudging me again.

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the giddy feeling bubbling in my chest. “Anyway, enough about me. What about you guys? Anyone else risking scandalous glances in the dining hall?”

They laughed, launching into stories about their crushes and awkward encounters, and for a few blissful moments, I let myself get lost in the normalcy. It was easy to forget—just for a heartbeat—the weight of the secrets I was carrying, the danger looming on the horizon.

***

I sat on my bed, leaning against the wall, absently brushing my hair as the quiet of my room pressed down on me. My thoughts spun like a storm, my mind caught between fury and relief. Brennan. My brother. Alive. But how could he have let us think he was dead? How could he have left Mira and me—left Dad?

Tears slid down my cheeks, hot and angry, and I scrubbed them away with the back of my hand. I was furious at him for abandoning us, for making me grieve him, for shattering Mira’s heart, for pushing Dad into his own spiral of grief. But gods, I was relieved too. He wasn’t gone. He was out there.

A knock at my door pulled me from my thoughts, and my breath caught. I didn’t need to guess who it was.

“Come in,” I said, my voice low.

The door opened, and Xaden stepped inside, closing it softly behind him. His dark eyes were filled with concern, but his lips twisted into a smirk. “Violence, you shouldn’t just tell people to come in. What if I was Jack Barlowe, trying to murder you in your sleep?”

I tried to laugh, but my voice trembled. “I doubt Jack Barlowe would knock.”

His head whipped toward me, his smirk fading as he crossed the room in two long strides. He knelt in front of me, his hands framing my face. “What’s wrong?”

I bit my lip, the tears spilling over again. “I’ve just been thinking about Brennan. About how he left us. How Dad…” My voice cracked, and I couldn’t finish.

Xaden pulled me into his arms, his warmth wrapping around me like armor. “I know. I know, Violence.”

I buried my face in his shoulder, breathing him in. His hand smoothed down my hair, gentle and grounding.

“How did it happen?” I whispered.

He exhaled slowly, his voice quiet. “It’s not my story to tell. But Brennan showed up in Aretia a day before the battle. He warned us about what was coming. He risked everything to get the message through.”

I swallowed hard, clinging to him. “I want to see him. I need to.”

“You will,” Xaden promised, his voice firm. “I’ll make sure of it.”

We sat there in silence for a while, the weight of unspoken words settling between us. He traced his fingers through my hair, letting the strands fall through his hands like silk.

“Fuck me, I love your hair, Violence,” he murmured, his lips brushing my temple. “If you ever want to win an argument, just let it down and you’ll have me on my knees for you.”

I laughed softly, the sound muffled against his shoulder. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

We settled back against the bed, tangled together. I let my hair spill over his chest, and his fingers toyed with the ends.

“Tell me something,” I murmured. “Something from your past. Something…normal.”

He was quiet for a moment, then let out a low chuckle. “There was this one time—Garrick, Bodhi, and I—we were about ten, and we decided we wanted to prank the commander during inspection. We smeared his office door handle with honey and stuck feathers to it. Then we wrote a love letter from one of the maids to him and placed it on his desk. We thought we were so clever, but Garrick forgot to lock the door behind us. The commander walked in mid-prank, and we all bolted. Bodhi tripped, Garrick screamed, and I ended up getting tackled by one of the guards. My father found out and just laughed. He let us off with a warning… and then made us clean every inch of the training yard for a week.”

I giggled, the sound bubbling up despite everything. “That’s adorable. You’ve always been a troublemaker.”

He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Only with the people who matter.”

I tilted my head up to look at him, my heart tight in my chest. His eyes were soft, open in a way they rarely were.

“Stay with me tonight,” I whispered.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured, pulling me closer as if to prove his point.

Xaden

I lay there, my arms wrapped tight around Violet, her breath soft and warm against my chest. Her hair spilled across my skin like spun silver, each strand a quiet tether that anchored me to her, to this moment.

I couldn’t believe I was here. With her. With Violence.

She shifted slightly, snuggling closer, her palm smoothing over my ribs, her breath ghosting across my skin. My heart stuttered, the weight of her so impossibly light, yet the burden of what I felt for her so heavy.

I should tell her everything. But the words lodged in my throat, as thick and stubborn as the shadows pooling at the edges of the room. For now, I could only hold her, pretend for one stolen night that we weren’t tangled in secrets and blood.

“Your heartbeat,” she murmured, her lips brushing my skin. “It’s steady now.”

“It’s always steady when you’re here,” I confessed, my voice low and rough.

She tilted her head back, her wide eyes searching mine, her lips parting as if to speak. But instead, she smiled—soft, tired, but real. Gods, I could drown in that smile.

I pressed my lips to her temple, her hair slipping through my fingers like silk. “If I could keep you here forever, I would,” I whispered. “I’d lock the world out, and it would just be you and me.”

Her breath hitched, her fingers tightening on my skin. “You’re making it really hard to leave,” she murmured, her voice trembling slightly.

I rolled her gently beneath me, pinning her with my weight, my nose brushing hers. “Then don’t,” I said, my tone playful but my meaning clear. “Stay with me.”

A blush bloomed over her cheeks, her lips curving. “Always,” she whispered.

I kissed her, slow and languid, tasting her, savoring the way her body arched into mine, soft and pliant and entirely perfect. I slid my hand up her thigh, over the curve of her hip, trailing lazy circles against her skin. She sighed into my mouth, her fingers threading through my hair.

My cock stirred against her belly, already hardening with the need I could never quite shake around her. I rolled my hips just enough for her to feel it, the friction sending a delicious shudder through me.

“You’re insatiable,” she murmured breathlessly.

“For you? Always,” I whispered against her lips, nibbling softly.

She laughed, the sound soft and breathy, and gods, I wanted to hear it forever. I slid my hands beneath her shirt, tracing her spine, her ribs, every inch of her I could reach. She arched into me, her skin warm and flushed.

“I should let you sleep,” I said reluctantly, brushing her hair back from her face.

“You should,” she whispered, pulling me down for another kiss.

But I didn’t.

I kissed her until we were both breathless, until the weight of the world faded away, until there was nothing but the heat of her skin, the softness of her lips, and the wild, aching need thrumming between us.

And then, finally, I gathered her into my arms, holding her close as her breathing slowed, her body relaxing into mine.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I murmured, my lips brushing her hair.

“I know,” she whispered. “Me neither.”

And as her breathing evened out, I held her tighter, letting the world outside disappear.

Chapter Text

Violet

I sat at the dining hall table, listening to Ridoc spin his story for the millionth time.

“It was the coolest thing ever,” Ridoc said, practically vibrating. “One second Sawyer was sparring against that third-year with the broadsword skills, and then—”

“You could let him tell it,” Rhiannon cut in, rolling her eyes.

“No thanks,” Sawyer mumbled, still staring down at his fork like it might betray him.

Ridoc grinned. “And then the sword twists in Sawyer’s hand—like, twists —aiming right for the guy’s arm, even though Sawyer was way off.” He shot an apologetic glance Sawyer’s way. “Sorry, but you were. If your sword hadn’t suddenly bent like that—”

“You’re a metallurgist?” Quinn’s brows shot up.

I nearly dropped my fork. Sawyer? A metallurgist? He nodded, looking miserable.

“That’s what Carr said. Aetos dragged me straight to the professor when it happened.”

“I’m so jealous!” Ridoc clutched his chest dramatically. “I want my signet to show already!”

“You wouldn’t be so eager if it meant worrying your fork might stab you in the mouth,” Sawyer grumbled, shoving his tray away.

“Good point,” Ridoc muttered, eyeing his own tray warily.

“Your dragons will let you manifest when they’re ready,” Quinn said, finishing her water. “Just hope it’s before six months and—” She mimed an explosion with her hands.

“Stop scaring the children,” Imogen interjected, rolling her eyes. “The relic you got at Threshing lets the magic into your body. If you don’t manifest a signet to release it, well—bad 

things happen after a while.”

We all stared at her.

“The magic eats you from the inside,” Quinn added, mimicking another explosion.

“Relax, it’s not like a hard deadline,” Imogen shrugged. “It’s just...an average.”

“Fuck me, it’s always something around here,” Ridoc muttered.

“Feeling a little luckier now,” Sawyer said quietly, glancing nervously at his fork.

“We’ll get you some wooden utensils,” I offered, trying not to laugh. “And maybe avoid the armory or sparring…or, you know, anything sharp.”

Sawyer let out a weak scoff. “That’s the truth. At least I’ll be safe during flight this afternoon.”

Flight classes had been added to our schedules since Threshing, the wings rotating access to the flight field. Today was one of our lucky days, though considering how unsteady I still felt on Tairn, I wasn’t sure I agreed.

“I like it better when flight’s in the morning,” Rhi said, her expression sour. “Way worse after we’ve eaten.”

“Agreed,” I managed between bites.

“Finish the turkey,” Imogen ordered as she stood, tray in hand. “I’ll see you tonight.”

She and Quinn left, dumping their trays at the scullery.

Rhiannon leaned in. “Is she any nicer when she’s training you?”

“Not even a little. But she’s efficient,” I said, shoveling in the last of the turkey as the room began to empty.

As we joined the line at the scullery window, I asked Sawyer, “What’s Professor Carr like?” The wielding professor was still a mystery to me since I hadn’t manifested a signet.

“Fucking terrifying,” Sawyer replied grimly. “I can’t wait for everyone to start wielding so you can all meet him.”

We walked out through the commons and rotunda into the brisk November courtyard, bundling into our coats against the biting wind. The frosted grass crunched under our boots.

“I knew it would work!” Jack Barlowe’s voice rang out ahead of us. He had his arm slung around Caroline Ashton, grinning wide.

“Isn’t that Caroline Ashton?” Rhiannon gasped, her mouth dropping open as Caroline disappeared into the academic wing with Jack.

“Yeah,” Ridoc said, his voice tightening. “She bonded Gleann this morning.”

“Wasn’t Gleann already bonded?” Rhiannon frowned, confusion etching her face.

“His rider died on our first flight lesson,” I said softly, staring toward the flight field gates.

“So I guess the unbonded still have that shot they’re looking for,” Rhiannon murmured.

“Yeah,” Sawyer added, his jaw clenched. “They do.”

***

After flight maneuvers, I trudged alongside Ridoc, frustration simmering just below the surface. Rhiannon and Sawyer walked a few paces ahead, their laughter carrying on the wind.

“I swear, I’m never going to get the hang of this,” I muttered, the memory of nearly sliding off Tairn still fresh in my mind. “Why can’t I just stay in my godsdamned seat?”

Ridoc grinned, bumping my shoulder playfully. “Relax, Sorrengail. Tairn’s a big motherfucker, and you’re… well, tiny. You’ll figure it out.”

I shot him a glare but couldn’t deny he was right. Tairn’s sheer size made even the simplest maneuvers feel like wrestling a mountain.

We entered the courtyard, the late afternoon light slanting across the stone. Xaden and Garrick lounged on a bench nearby, their conversation low and easy. My gaze locked with Xaden’s across the distance, the heat of his stare making my pulse quicken.

“Hot damn,” Ridoc muttered under his breath. “I should’ve gotten bonded with a big-ass dragon too if that’s the kind of looks it gets you.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. The tension between me and Xaden was as electric as ever, and it didn’t go unnoticed by anyone nearby.

Before Ridoc could tease me further, a blood-curdling scream shattered the moment.

“Make it stop!” someone howled, stumbling down the steps of the rotunda. It was a first-year from Third Wing, his face contorted in pain, hands clamped over his head. “For gods’ sake, make it stop!” he shrieked, staggering into the courtyard, eyes wild with terror.

Everything around us seemed to still. Conversations faltered, heads turned. I felt the weight of dread settle over me like a cold stone.

My hands hovered over my blades, my pulse skittering. A shadow moved at my left, and I tensed until I realized it was Xaden. He’d shifted forward, casually placing himself just ahead of me, his body close enough that his shoulder brushed mine. His presence grounded me, even as the crowd hollowed around the screaming first-year.

“Jeremiah!” someone shouted, stepping forward.

“You!” Jeremiah spun, his finger jabbing at a third-year, eyes flaring wide. “You think I’ve lost it! How does he know? He shouldn’t know!” His voice twisted, not quite his own, sending shivers racing down my spine. My stomach dropped like a stone.

“And you!” He whirled again, pointing at a second-year. His panic clawed at the air. “What the hell is wrong with him? Why is he screaming?”

“Oh gods,” I whispered, my heartbeat thundering in my ears. Forget embarrassment. This was worse. Jeremiah’s signet was manifesting—he was an inntinnsic. My thoughts spiraled into a blur. I didn’t care if anyone knew what I was thinking about Dain—or anyone else. This was dangerous.

Ridoc stumbled back on my left, and before I could react, Xaden’s solid arm brushed my shoulder again, steadying me. His familiar scent of mint surrounded me, calming the frantic beat of my heart.

Jeremiah unsheathed his shortsword, his desperation crackling like static. “Make it stop! Can’t any of you see? The thoughts won’t stop!”

“Do something,” I begged Xaden, glancing up at him. His sharp gaze was locked on Jeremiah, but his jaw tensed at my plea. He reached subtly for my hand, his fingers brushing mine in a silent promise of protection.

“Start mentally reciting whatever bookish shit you’ve learned,” he murmured, his voice low and tight.

“I’m sorry?” I hissed up at him.

“If you value your secrets, clear your thoughts. Now,” he ordered, his grip tightening on my hand.

Oh, shit. My mind flailed for something—anything—to focus on. Um… Many Navarrian defense posts exist beyond the safety of our wards… Such posts are considered to be in a zone of imminent danger… Never the civilians who usually accompany them…

Jeremiah’s frantic gaze locked onto Garrick. “And you! Damn it all to hell. He’ll know about—”

Shadows coiled at Jeremiah’s feet, snaking up his legs like living ropes, winding around his chest until they sealed his mouth shut in bands of black. My breath caught in my throat.

A professor pushed through the stunned crowd, his white hair bouncing with every step of his broad frame. “He’s an inntinnsic!” someone shouted, and that seemed to be enough.

The professor gripped Jeremiah’s head with both hands. A sharp crack echoed through the courtyard, silencing the murmurs and my pounding heart. Xaden’s shadows withdrew, and Jeremiah crumpled to the ground, his head at a grotesque angle.

The professor lifted him easily and carried him into the rotunda.

Xaden inhaled sharply beside me, his fingers slipping from mine as he stepped back, shoulders tense. He walked away with Garrick, heading toward the academic wing, leaving me cold in the sudden quiet.

“Maybe I don’t want a signet power after all,” Ridoc muttered, breaking the silence.

“That death is merciful compared to what happens if you don’t manifest one,” Dain said, and I swore I felt my relics prickle against my back, even though my dragons hadn’t begun channeling yet.

“And that,” Sawyer added from Rhiannon’s side, “was Professor Carr.”

***

The Archives were quiet, the glow of lanterns casting soft light over the rows of books. I was small, sitting cross-legged on the cold floor, my father kneeling beside me, his warm hand resting on my shoulder.

“Read between the lines, Violet,” he murmured, his voice gentle, like a secret just for me. “Not everything is as it seems. You’ll understand when you’re a scribe.”

“But I don’t want to be a scribe,” I said, glancing up at him, frowning. “I want to be a rider, like Mom.”

He smiled, soft and sad. “You’ll be a scribe. You’ll change the world.”

I felt the shift in the air, the whisper of shadows creeping closer, and I tried to reach for his hand, to pull him back to me. “Dad?”

“WAKE,” a voice boomed, shattering the dream. It echoed off the Archives’ walls, deep and furious. My heart skipped a beat, the shelves trembling.

“Wake before you die!” The words slammed through me, jarring my bones, and I stumbled back.

“Now!”

My eyes snapped open, the dream tearing away like smoke. Gasping, I sat up, my breath catching. This wasn’t the Archives.

I was in my room. The Riders’ wing.

“Move!” Tairn’s voice bellowed in my mind, a command that sent terror flooding through my veins.

“Fuck! She’s awake!” someone hissed nearby, their voice sharp with panic.

Moonlight spilled through the window, glinting off the edge of a blade arcing above me. My pulse roared in my ears as I threw myself sideways off the bed. The sword sliced through empty air, missing me by inches.

Chapter Text

Xaden

The room hummed with quiet tension. Bodhi lounged on the edge of my desk, flipping through notes from the last drop, while Garrick and Imogen stood near the window, their faces tight from the latest strategy session with the flyers.

“The next drop’s set for next week,” Garrick said, his voice low. “It’s getting harder to cover our tracks. The flyers are getting bolder.”

I nodded, leaning back in my chair. “Violet insists she’s coming.”

Imogen’s eyes flared. “She’s not ready. She can’t even keep her seat during flight practice.”

“She’s tougher than you give her credit for,” I snapped, sharper than intended. “Tairn and I both agree she should—”

Before I could finish, a wave of sheer terror crashed through me, clawing at my chest like icy fingers. I gasped, lurching forward in my chair.

“Xaden?” Bodhi’s voice cut through the fog. “What’s wrong?”

“I— I don’t know,” I choked out, shaking my head. But then, Tairn’s roar blasted through my mind, filling every corner of my thoughts with urgency.

“Hurry, Wingleader. The silver one is in danger. MOVE.”

My heart stopped. I surged to my feet, knocking the chair over. “Where is she?” I demanded through the bond.

“Her room. NOW!”

I didn’t waste another breath. “Garrick! Bodhi! With me!” I barked, already sprinting for the door. The three of us bolted down the hall, shadows coiling at my heels, the fear in my chest threatening to choke me.

Every step felt like it wasn’t fast enough. My mind splintered with images—Violet, alone, terrified. Gods, if anything happened to her—

I slammed into her door, barely registering it before I shoved it open. The scene before me seared into my vision.

Violet stood with her back rigid, a dagger pressed to her throat. Oren Seifert was behind her, his eyes wild with desperation.

Then, in a blink, everything shifted.

One second, the world tilted beneath my feet—Seifert’s knife slicing toward her throat—and the next, she was there, right in front of me, wide-eyed and gasping. The shift was so jarring I felt my knees weaken. For one, terrible moment, I had thought I’d lost her—my Violence—and then, like a miracle, she was back.

My breath caught painfully in my throat as I crossed the room in two strides, shadows bursting to life, swirling around us like a living, vengeful storm. Mage lights flared from my fingers, illuminating the chaos, but all I could see was her.

The fury that had consumed me at the thought of losing her twisted into something darker—something I couldn’t contain. I scanned the room, my heart thundering, the scent of her blood lingering like a curse. There were too many of them. Too many who thought they could steal her from me.

“You’re all fucking dead,” I snarled, the words low and dangerous, vibrating from deep within my chest.

Seifert’s dagger hit the floor with a sharp clang. “Riorson!” he gasped, the tremor in his voice doing nothing to slow my rage.

He thought surrender would save him. It was almost laughable. “You think surrendering will save you?” I hissed, my voice razor-sharp. My shadows lunged, wrapping themselves around the throats of the cowards who’d dared lay a hand on my girl. Their gasps turned to gurgles as they clawed at the inky bands tightening around them.

“Dragons don’t make mistakes,” I spat, my eyes locking on Seifert’s, his panic thickening the air between us. I summoned his dagger with a flick of my wrist, shadows curling around it as if it belonged to me.

I took a step closer, the image of Violet’s bruised neck flashing in my mind, igniting something feral inside me. The thought of her blood—of her—was too much. “She should’ve killed you in the field,” I whispered, my voice deadly soft. “But she’s merciful. That’s not a flaw I possess.”

I slashed the dagger across his throat, the cut swift and sure. He dropped like a stone, lifeless before he even hit the floor.

For a heartbeat, I saw her there instead—Violet crumpled on the floor, her blood pooling beneath her. The terror of it left me trembling. It had been too godsdamned close.

“Damn, Xaden,” Garrick said, stepping in with his sword sheathed. His voice cut through the thick silence as he glanced over the bodies. “No time for questioning?”

I shook my head, my eyes never leaving Violet. I didn’t feel guilt. I felt righteous. “No need for it,” I said, my voice like steel.

Behind him, Bodhi stepped in. “Let me guess, we’re on cleanup?”

Violet’s soft laugh—a high, nervous sound—made my head snap toward her. The sight of her trying to stifle her giggle, adrenaline rushing through her, damn near undid me.

“I’ll call in the help,” Bodhi said quietly.

I nodded, not looking away from her. She was my center, my gravity. My shadows slipped away from the bodies, returning to me, but my rage hadn’t abated.

I didn’t think—I just moved. Rushing to her, I dropped to my knees and pulled her into my arms, holding her tight as though I could protect her from everything, from the shadows, from the world. But the second she let out a soft, pained noise, I loosened my grip, cupping her face, brushing a trembling hand down her cheek.

“I’ve got you now, Violence,” I whispered, my voice breaking as I pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ve got you, you’re safe. I swear, you’re safe.”

Her breath hitched against my chest, her trembling hands fisting into my shirt. I cradled her there, my lips brushing her temple, murmuring soft, fierce promises that I’d never let her face anything like this alone again.

Garrick and Bodhi returned, bringing two more marked ones with them. I barely registered their quiet movements as they worked, hauling the bodies away one by one, leaving only the faint scent of blood and the brutal reminder of what almost happened.

I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I guided her to the bed, hands gentle on her waist as I helped her sit. She was shaking, her skin pale against the dark fabric of her clothes, but she was alive. My Violence.

Garrick stepped closer, his voice quieter than usual. “You okay, Sorrengail?” he asked, his fingers resting lightly on her shoulder.

She nodded, but the sharp intake of breath as she shifted made me want to snarl.

Garrick’s expression softened as he cupped her cheek briefly in a gesture of quiet friendship. “Glad you’re okay,” he murmured, a teasing smile pulling at the edge of his mouth. “Because if you weren’t, Riorson here would’ve been unbearable. For-fucking-ever.”

I shot him a warning glare, though I couldn’t stop the faint, grudging smirk tugging at the corner of my lips.

“Don’t push it,” I muttered.

Garrick only chuckled as he and Bodhi turned to finish the cleanup, leaving us in the quiet aftermath. My shadows curled protectively around her, and I tightened my arm around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to her temple.

I needed answers—how the fuck they got in here, how she survived, how she was almost dead one minute and standing in front of me the next. But none of that mattered now.

“Are you hurt?” I asked, voice tight, trying to keep it together when all I wanted was to fall apart from the sheer terror of almost losing her.

“It’s the shock,” I added when she gave me a look, though we both knew the truth—I’d never have heard her thoughts if her mind hadn’t been cracked wide open from the trauma.

“Come on, Violence,” I said, my voice fraying at the edges. “Tell me where you’re hurt.”

She hesitated, her breaths shallow. “My ribs,” she admitted quietly. “The one by the bed hit me with the sword. I think it’s just bruised.”

I exhaled hard, dragging my hand through my hair. “Fuckers,” I muttered under my breath. If they weren’t already dead, I’d kill them again, slower.

I crouched in front of her, brushing back a lock of her silver hair, my hand trembling. “I’ve got you now, Violence,” I whispered against her temple, pressing a kiss there. “I’ve got you.”

She flinched when I moved too quickly, and I immediately loosened my hold, murmuring soft apologies. My hands settled on her waist, helping her stand. My fingers grazed the firm ridges of her corset beneath her nightdress, and I froze for a heartbeat, realization hitting me like a punch to the gut.

“Wait,” I murmured, lifting my head to meet her tired, tear-streaked eyes. “This…what is this?” I asked, tracing the edge of the corset beneath the torn fabric.

She hesitated, her lips trembling. “It’s dragon-scale,” she whispered, her voice catching on the words. “Mira had it made for me before I left.”

Relief and fury tangled in my chest. Relief because it explained how she’d survived an attack that would have killed anyone else. Fury because even with that, she’d almost been taken from me tonight.

I let my head fall forward, my forehead resting lightly against hers. “Thank fuck for that vest,” I murmured, my breath ghosting over her skin. “Thank fuck for you.”

I drew a slow, shaky breath, pulling back just enough to look at her. “Let’s get this off,” I murmured, my fingers already working the laces at her back. My hands trembled slightly, but I kept them steady for her. The sight of her, alive and breathing, was almost too much to take in. Inch by inch, I loosened the corset, peeling it away from her skin.

The bruises were ugly—deep purple and blue, already mottling her ribs, but no breaks. My heart stuttered in relief. “It’s bad, but not broken,” I murmured, voice low, my thumb brushing softly over the worst of the bruising.

She shivered under my touch, and I dipped my head to trail gentle kisses along her skin, starting at her shoulder and moving downward. My lips barely grazed the tender flesh, but I wanted her to feel it—to know she was cherished, safe, here.

I re-laced the corset carefully, pressing one last kiss against the nape of her neck before I straightened. “That’s better,” I said quietly, smoothing the fabric down with a lingering touch.

She swayed slightly, so I crouched to help her step into her boots, tying them tightly and tugging her cloak around her shoulders. My fingers lingered on the fastenings, gently drawing the cloak closed over her nightdress, the sight of her vulnerable and bruised making my chest ache.

“We’ll figure this out,” I said softly, catching her chin with my knuckles and lifting her face to mine. “We’re going to talk to Tairn and Sgaeyl. We need to know what the hell happened. One second you were…” My voice cracked, and I swallowed hard. “You were about to die. And the next—you were in front of me.”

Her eyes, wide and searching, locked on mine.

I cupped her cheek, the pad of my thumb brushing away a stray tear. “We’ll find out. I swear it. You’re not going through this alone.”

Chapter Text

Xaden

We made our way back through the dim corridors. I stayed at Violet’s side, her hand still tangled in mine. I didn’t care that it was past curfew, or that anyone might see us. The only thing that mattered was getting her back to her room, to safety, and holding her close.

As we reached her door, my thoughts churned over everything we’d just learned from Tairn and Sgaeyl. Finally, Andarna had spoken up, Violet telling me what she said.

Feathertails generally don’t bond because they can gift their powers to humans. The magic is unstable, unpredictable, and dangerous. That’s why dragons wait until they’re fully grown before forming bonds. But Andarna—she wasn’t fully grown. She was still a feathertail, only two years old.
And because of that, she had been able to gift her power of freezing time to Violet.
I swallowed hard, remembering the shock I’d felt when Andarna’s explanation clicked into place. That was how Violet had survived. That was how she’d been snatched from the brink of death and placed safely in front of me. Andarna’s power, unpredictable and miraculous, had saved her.
In a year, Andarna would be fully grown. The thought sent a tremor through me. The power Violet could wield then—the power that had already saved her life once—was unimaginable.
I glanced down at her as we stopped in front of her door. She looked up at me, her silver hair tousled, her face pale but determined.
“Let’s get you inside,” I murmured, my voice low and rough with everything I couldn’t say.
I couldn’t leave her. Not now. Not ever.
When she asked me to stay, I kicked off my boots and stripped out of my shirt and pants, leaving me in nothing but my underwear. My pulse quickened when she slipped out of her cloak and boots, her fingers working the buttons of her nightgown until it slid off her shoulders, pooling at her feet. I swallowed hard, barely managing to keep my composure.
Then, as if to test my already fraying control, she turned her back to me and murmured, “Can you help me with this?”
Her corset.
I stepped behind her, fingers trembling as I untied the laces with deliberate slowness. My fingertips grazed the bare skin of her back, lingering a moment longer than necessary. The urge to press my lips to each inch of her spine was nearly overwhelming. But I resisted—barely.
Once the corset was off, she pulled my discarded shirt from the floor and slid it over her head, the fabric settling against her curves like it belonged there. I groaned, low and rough, my voice betraying my thoughts.
She smirked over her shoulder, her silver hair tumbling over the collar.
We crawled into her bed—far smaller than mine, forcing us closer. I wrapped my arm around her, careful not to press against her bruised ribs, and pulled her against me. Her warmth seeped into my skin, calming the storm inside me.
“I was so fucking terrified,” I murmured, pressing my forehead against hers. “You were almost gone, Violence. I can’t—I can’t even think about it.”
She cupped my face, her thumb brushing over my cheek, her touch soft and grounding. My eyes closed under the weight of her fingers, her presence soothing the raw ache that lingered from the night’s events.
When I opened my eyes again, she was closer, her breath warm against my lips.
“I think I’m falling for you, Violence,” I whispered, my voice thick with the truth I wasn’t ready to admit. But I knew the truth—I’d already fallen.
“I think I already fell,” she breathed, her lips grazing mine.
The kiss started slow, unhurried, like we were savoring the feel of each other, like we were finally giving in to everything we’d been holding back. But it didn’t stay slow for long. Her hand slid over my chest, tracing the muscles there, and then lower, down my stomach. I groaned as she reached the edge of my underwear, her touch lighting a fuse under my skin.
“Violence,” I warned, my voice breaking with need as her hand slipped inside, her grip firm and knowing. She wrapped her fingers around me, slow and deliberate, and my hips bucked into her touch. A growl rumbled from deep in my throat, shadows writhing under my skin.
“Shh,” she whispered, her breath hot against my lips, her strokes maddeningly slow. “I want to take my time with you.”
“You’re going to undo me,” I groaned, barely able to keep my hips from jerking with every stroke.
Her thumb traced the sensitive head, teasing me until I was cursing under my breath. “That’s the point,” she murmured, her voice low and wicked. “I want you to come for me, Xaden. I want to see you lose control.”
“Violence,” I hissed, my voice fraying, shadows curling tighter around the bedposts, her wrists, my own legs. “You’re fucking perfect. So good to me.”
She nipped at my jaw, her tongue teasing the skin just below my ear. “You like that, don’t you? Me touching you like this. Making you desperate for me.”
“Gods, yes,” I choked, my hands gripping her hips, nails digging in just enough to ground myself. “You’re going to be the death of me, fucking ruin me for anyone else.”
“That’s the idea,” she purred, her strokes quickening, her palm twisting just right, and I was helpless against the wave of pleasure building.
“Violence,” I gasped, her name breaking like a prayer from my lips as my body arched into her hand. “Fuck—I’m going to—”
“Let go,” she murmured, her mouth trailing hot kisses down my neck. “Come for me, Xaden. I want to feel it. I want to see it.”
That was it—the last thread of control snapped. My hips thrust up, my shadows lashed out around us, and I shattered apart in her hand, spilling over her fingers and my stomach. My breath came in ragged gasps, her name whispered like a confession on my lips.
I barely had the strength to pull her closer, but I did, holding her against me, her warmth grounding me in a way nothing else could. “Gods, you’re everything,” I whispered, my breath still ragged against her skin.
Her lips brushed mine in the softest kiss, her hand stroking gently along my chest now, and I could feel her trembling, though whether it was from the lingering adrenaline or something deeper, I wasn’t sure.
“I needed that,” she murmured, her voice raw, threaded with something between laughter and a sob. “I needed you.”
I cupped her face, brushing a thumb under her eye where I could still see the traces of tears from earlier. “I’m here,” I whispered fiercely. “I’m always here, Violence. You don’t have to face any of this alone.”
She bit her lip, her gaze holding mine, something so tender in her eyes it made my chest ache. Then, as if realizing how exposed she was, she tried to shift away, but I was already moving, grabbing the cloth from the nightstand to clean myself up.
When I returned, she was sitting up slightly, pulling the covers around her, her face flushed. I slid back into the bed beside her, careful of her bruises, and pulled her into my arms. Her cheek pressed to my chest, and I felt her sigh, her breath a soft exhale of relief.
“I should be the one taking care of you,” I murmured, kissing the top of her head, feeling her settle closer.
“You do,” she said quietly, her voice muffled against my skin. “You always do.”
I tightened my hold around her, the weight of everything we’d been through crashing down on me. “I love you, Violence,” I almost said, the words forming in my mind but catching in my throat. It was too soon. Too dangerous. But gods, the feeling was there, undeniable and terrifying in its intensity.
Instead, I whispered, “I’ve got you,” as I felt her finally relax, her breathing evening out as she drifted into sleep. I stayed awake for a long while after, pressing soft kisses to her bruises, her hair, her temple. My heart ached with the sheer force of what I felt for her, and when sleep finally came for me, it was with her in my arms, exactly where she was meant to be.
***
I woke to the feeling of her breath on my skin, her cheek pressed against my chest, her body curled into mine like we were two pieces of a puzzle. For a heartbeat, I let myself savor the quiet, the rise and fall of her chest, the delicate weight of her against me.
But the memory of last night surged back with the force of a crashing wave. The scent of blood. The sight of that godsdamned dagger. The shadows wrapping around me as I’d moved faster than I thought possible to reach her.
I forced myself to pull back slightly, brushing a lock of silver hair from her face. “How are you feeling?” My voice was low, still rough with sleep and fear.
Her lips twitched, but it wasn’t quite a smile. “Sore,” she admitted, her voice a whisper. The dark bruises around her throat were stark against her pale skin, a painful reminder of just how close I’d come to losing her.
My blood heated, the old rage bubbling just beneath the surface. “Gods, Violence,” I muttered, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her temple.
Carefully, I rolled her over, pulling her against me so I could lift the hem of the shirt—my shirt—she wore. My gaze swept over the bruising along her ribs. The dark, mottled marks made my jaw tighten. “Let me see,” I murmured.
She snorted softly. “Mother hen,” she teased, the sound breathy. “You’re acting like a mother hen, Riorson.”
I gave her a look, my voice low and fierce. “I almost lost you, Violet. I can’t bear the thought of that. So yes, I’ll check you over a hundred times today if it means knowing you’re safe. You’ll just have to deal with it.”
Her teasing softened into something more vulnerable, her lips curving gently as she reached up to cup my face. “Come here,” she murmured, pulling me down into a kiss—soft, slow, full of the kind of promise I wasn’t ready to speak aloud but couldn’t deny.
When she pulled back, breathless, I lingered for a moment, savoring the way her lips felt against mine. But reality pressed in. I pulled back, my jaw tight. “Who let them into your room?” I asked quietly, my voice darkening.
She tensed, hesitation flickering in her eyes. For a moment, I thought she’d refuse again, like last night. But then her gaze met mine, clear and steady despite the hurt. “Amber Mavis,” she whispered.
The name hit me like a punch to the chest, the air knocked from my lungs. My muscles locked, my mind spinning. “What?” The word was raw, disbelieving.
Her voice trembled, but she held my gaze. “She was the one who let them in.”
I sat there, my arms around her, my heart hammering in my chest, trying to make sense of the betrayal. “Fuck,” I breathed. My shadows stirred, itching to lash out, but I kept them leashed. For her.
I pulled her closer, pressing my forehead to hers, trying to find some semblance of calm in the storm of fury and heartbreak now flooding my veins. But deep down, I knew—this wasn’t over. Not even close.

Chapter Text

Xaden

 The second Fitzgibbons finishes reading through the list of traitors I killed last night and mutters that prayer to Malek, I move. There’s no holding back the storm raging in my veins—not after almost losing her. My fists clench at my sides as I stalk forward, my gaze snapping to Violet where she stands, her silver-streaked hair catching the light like moonfire. I take her in, every inch of her. She’s here. She’s alive. But the bruises marring her delicate throat send a fresh wave of rage coursing through me.

I bite it back, forcing myself to keep my steps steady. I want to pull her into my arms, bury my face in her neck and breathe her in until I believe she’s real and safe. But I can’t. I can’t.

I turn sharply toward Aetos, my voice like a blade as I say, “There’s a change to your squad roll.”

“Wingleader?” Aetos straightens, trying too hard to sound competent.

I don’t look at him. Can’t stand the sight of him. “We just absorbed four from Third Squad.”

“Yes, sir,” he says, but I hear the doubt in his tone.

I level him with a cold stare before shifting my gaze to Belden. “Tail Section’s roll is changing. Vaughn Penley will transfer out. Liam Mairi will join your squad, Aetos.”

Liam meets my eyes as he steps forward, the silent understanding passing between us. Protect her. Do whatever it takes.

I let my gaze flick back to Violet—gods, the fury simmering beneath her stubborn glare sets every nerve in me on fire.

“I do not need a bodyguard,” she snaps, her voice trembling with anger and hurt.

I draw in a steady breath, my heart pounding too loud in my ears. “You do,” I say, voice low but firm, my eyes locked on hers. “You do, as we both learned last night. And I can’t be everywhere. Liam can.”

I gesture to Liam, my voice roughening with unspoken emotions. “He’s the strongest first-year. Fastest on the Gauntlet. Bonded to a Red Daggertail that could tear apart any threat to you. He’ll be in every class, every formation, even the library. He’ll be where I can’t be.”

Her cheeks flush, her eyes flashing with something that twists my insides—frustration, anger, something deeper. She steps closer, defiance radiating from her.

“You’re overstepping,” she hisses, her voice shaking.

I lean in, lowering my voice, and letting every ounce of my fear and love bleed through. “You haven’t seen overstepping, Violence,” I whisper. “Any threat to you is a threat to me. And I’m not losing you again. Not ever.”

Her lips part, her breath catching, but I can’t stop myself. “Liam will be in the room next to yours,” I add, my tone sharpening, but there’s a hint of teasing beneath it, just enough to cover the raw edge of desperation. “Wouldn’t want to overstep, after all.”

I see the shot land as her cheeks flush deeper, her eyes narrowing, but before she can say more, I turn on my heel and stalk back to the front of formation. My heart pounds against my ribs, my shadows coiling around me.

Violet

“Fucking mated dragons,” Dain muttered under his breath, his eyes fixed straight ahead. I barely heard him over the pounding in my head. Fitzgibbons finished the announcements, stepping back from the dais, but instead of dismissing formation, Commandant Panchek moved to the podium.

Rhiannon, standing at my side, stiffened. “Panchek doesn’t usually show up for morning formation. Something’s up.”

I nodded, drawing a careful breath that sent a sharp ache through my ribs. “Must be big if he’s digging through his Codex.”

“Quiet,” Dain snapped, finally glancing back over his shoulder. His eyes found mine—and widened.

“Vi?” His voice cracked, catching the sight of the bruising on my neck. I straightened, ignoring the way his gaze clung to me like a lifeline.

“I’m fine,” I said softly, though the words felt thin and frail.

He didn’t move, his eyes locked on the bruises that marred my throat, and for a moment I felt a twist of something—regret? No, not quite. Something sharper.

“Squad Leader Aetos,” I said, my voice low but firm, trying to pull his attention away from me. “People are staring.”

Commandant Panchek cleared his throat, his voice booming across the courtyard. “It has been brought to my attention as your commandant that a breach of the Codex has occurred.”

I could feel Dain’s gaze still lingering, an apology rising in his eyes, but it was too late. He should’ve believed me before.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispered, but I couldn’t answer.

“Later,” I murmured, nodding toward the dais.

He turned back around, but the hesitation in his movement was thick with unspoken words.

Panchek’s voice rang louder. “Breaches of our sacred laws are not tolerated. This matter will be addressed now. Will the accuser please step forward.”

Rhiannon leaned closer, whispering, “Someone’s in trouble.”

“Think Ridoc finally got caught in Tyvon Varen’s bed?” I tried to focus, tried to find levity, but my mind was spinning.

“That’s not against the Codex,” Ridoc grumbled.

“Fraternizing with command is frowned upon,” I shot back.

“Not unlawful,” Ridoc retorted with a shrug.

I sighed, rubbing at the tension in my neck. “I miss feeling like things are normal,” I said softly, the weight of everything hanging heavy on my shoulders.

Ridoc grinned, sharp and playful. “That’s rich coming from you,” he teased, jerking his head subtly toward Xaden at the front of formation.

My cheeks heated as I caught his meaning, my lips twitching with an involuntary smirk.

“I mean normal-normal,” I said, rolling my eyes even as my heart fluttered at the mere thought of Xaden’s dark gaze.

Ridoc chuckled, nudging me lightly with his elbow. “Right. Totally normal—when you’re sneaking around with the Wingleader.”

I barely stifled a laugh, elbowing him back just as Xaden’s shadow fell across the dais, his eyes locked on mine in a silent promise that made my pulse race.

Early this morning,” Xaden’s deep voice echoed over the formation, smooth but edged with fury. “A rider in my wing was brutally, illegally attacked in her sleep by a group composed mostly of unbondeds, with the clear intent to murder.”

A ripple of gasps and murmurs spread through the crowd like a wave. Dain stiffened at my side, but it was Xaden’s voice that commanded every shred of my attention.

“As we all know,” Xaden continued, his gaze sweeping the courtyard before landing on me, his jaw tightening, “this is a direct violation of Article Three, Section Two of the Dragon Rider’s Codex. It’s not just dishonorable. It’s a capital offense.”

I felt the weight of the stares. I could practically feel them digging into my back, but Xaden’s stare—his was the one I couldn’t escape. His hands clenched the sides of the podium, his knuckles white with restrained rage.

“Alerted by my dragon, I, along with two riders of Fourth Wing, intervened,” he said, his chin dipping slightly toward where Garrick and Bodhi were stepping forward, breaking formation and climbing the steps to flank him.

A few murmurs rose, and Nadine from behind me scoffed. “Both Tyrs. How convenient,” she muttered, her voice dripping with disdain.

I shot her a glare, my lips thinning. “Or maybe they’re just the ones who always have his back,” I bit out, low enough for her to hear but not the rest of the formation.

“But the attack wasn’t random,” Xaden continued, his voice rising, sharp as a blade. “It was orchestrated by a rider who fled before I arrived. A rider with access to the location of every first-year’s sleeping quarters. And that rider must be brought to justice.”

My pulse pounded in my ears. Oh gods. This was it.

“I call you to answer for your crime against Cadet Sorrengail,” Xaden said, his voice slicing through the courtyard like a sword. “Wingleader Amber Mavis.”

The collective gasp that echoed was deafening.

“What the hell?” Dain barked, his head snapping to me.

Rhiannon squeezed my hand in silent support, but I felt like the ground had shifted under my feet.

“She’s a Tyr, too,” Ridoc said behind me, cutting through the whispers. “Or do you only believe it’s wrong when marked ones are accused?”

Dain turned, his face pale with disbelief. “Amber would never—A wingleader would never.” He stepped closer to me, his voice dropping. “Vi, get up there and tell them he’s lying.”

“But he’s not,” I said softly, my voice tight with the weight of what I knew.

His brows furrowed in confusion. “I was there, Dain.”

“You’re saying it’s true? That Amber—” His voice cracked, but I cut him off with a nod.

“She was in my room,” I said, louder this time.

“No,” Dain said, his voice breaking, his hands rising like he wanted to cradle my face. “Let me see. Let me see the memory.”

My stomach twisted, and I stepped back, shaking my head. I couldn’t let him see. Not the memory of Amber, not the truth of what I did with Andarna’s gift.

“Give me the memory,” he demanded.

“Touch me without permission,” I said coldly, my voice steel over the tremor in my hands, “and you’ll spend the rest of your life regretting it.”

He recoiled, his expression flaring with shock.

“Wingleaders,” Xaden’s voice boomed, cutting through the chaos. “We need a quorum.”

Nyra and Septon Izar stepped forward, climbing the dais, their faces grim.

And just then, a roar split the sky. Heads turned as six dragons appeared over the ridge, their wings slicing through the air, the biggest among them a massive black shape with bronze scales gleaming in the light.

Tairn.

I let out a slow, shaky breath, my eyes meeting Xaden’s across the chaos. His gaze was a silent promise, fierce and unwavering. Whatever came next, he wasn’t going to let me face it alone.

Amber stepped forward, her chin lifted in defiance, though her voice trembled. “I’ve committed no such crime!” she shouted, her words sharp and echoing over the courtyard.

A low murmur rippled through the gathered cadets. Doubt and confusion stirred in the air like smoke. My heart squeezed painfully. What if they didn’t believe me? What if they all thought I was lying?

Tairn, I called silently, desperation lacing my voice. Please. Show them.

A heavy pulse of agreement rolled through me, and then it happened.

The courtyard went deathly silent as Tairn’s voice rumbled into every mind present, images flooding into everyone’s thoughts. The memory unspooled—the unbonded breaking into my room, the terror that gripped me as the dagger hovered over my throat, and Amber’s unmistakable figure among them, her face twisted in cold, calculating resolve.

Gasps and shocked whispers filled the air as the memory played out, undeniable and inescapable.

Dain turned toward me, his expression crumbling into one of regret, guilt shadowing his features. “Vi, I—I didn’t—”

“Don’t,” I cut him off sharply, my voice trembling but firm. I held his gaze, seeing the apology there but knowing it wasn’t enough. “We’re done. For now.”

Amber’s face contorted in a mix of fury and desperation. “I was trying to protect the quadrant!” she shouted, her voice cracking. “She was the weakest link! I was only doing what had to be done!”

Xaden’s voice cut through the air like a blade, cold and final. “The wingleaders have come to a decision,” he announced, his tone brooking no argument. “Amber Mavis will be executed for her crimes against a fellow rider, by dragon fire.”

A roar echoed from Claidh, Amber’s dragon, his voice a desperate, anguished sound. But then Tairn stepped forward, his massive form blotting out the light. His snarl shook the air, his power suffocating. Claidh whimpered and fell silent beneath the weight of Tairn’s dominance. There was no contest.

“No, no, please—Claidh! Please!” Amber screamed, her voice raw with terror as she fell to her knees, reaching out for her dragon. But there was no saving her.

Tairn’s great jaws parted, and with a low, ominous growl, he unleashed a torrent of dragon fire. The blaze engulfed Amber in a searing rush of heat and light, silencing her screams and reducing her to ash in a matter of seconds.

The courtyard stood in stunned silence, the only sound the crackle of the last dying embers.

I looked across the field to Xaden. Our eyes locked, and the hard edge of his expression softened, just for me. It was fleeting, but it was there—a flicker of something deeper, something I could feel thrumming down the bond between us. And then, like a whisper over my skin, I felt it. A wave of fondness, steady and sure, pushed down the bond.

My breath caught in my throat. That had never happened before. It wasn’t Tairn. It was him. Xaden. He was the one who’d let it through, let me feel it. He was with me.

I gasped softly, my hand flying to my chest. My pulse thrummed wildly.

Whatever just passed between us—it was more than just shadows and secrets.

Chapter Text

Violet

It had been a week since Amber’s execution, and the shadow of that moment still clung to the air, though everyone was trying to pretend otherwise.

I walked through the rotunda with Liam, Rhiannon, Sawyer, and Ridoc, our laughter echoing softly through the stone halls. Liam, for all the anger I’d felt at having a bodyguard forced on me, had fit into the group so seamlessly it was hard to remember a time when he wasn’t part of it. He was impossibly kind, always quick to make us laugh with a joke or a sarcastic quip, and fiercely protective.

“Seriously, Rhi,” he said with a playful grin, “if you keep dragging us into Study Hall early, I might actually learn something before graduation.”

Rhiannon rolled her eyes, but her smile was genuine. “That’s the idea, genius.”

Ridoc snorted. “Speak for yourself. I’ve made it this far on charm and dumb luck. Why change now?”

Sawyer grinned, but I barely heard them. Their voices faded into a comforting background hum as my thoughts spiraled.

The truth weighed heavy on me—the Venin, Brennan, the war no one was ready for. It gnawed at me in the quiet moments, whispered warnings when I closed my eyes. There was a force out there, something so dark it made the Flyers look like a minor inconvenience. And the worst part was, I couldn’t talk to anyone about it.

I felt a pang of guilt as I glanced at Rhiannon, her face alight with laughter. She trusted me, had my back without question, and yet I was keeping the biggest secret of my life from her. From all of them.

My heart twisted painfully. I couldn’t do it anymore. I needed to tell someone. I needed a friend.

I swallowed hard, my steps slowing. I’d have to talk to Xaden. I had to tell him I was going to let Rhiannon in on the truth. I couldn’t carry this burden alone.

Fear clawed at my chest at the thought. Would he be furious? Would he shut me out? Gods, what if he made me choose—between him and my friend?

But I couldn’t hold this secret any longer.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady the tremor in my hands as we reached the doors of the academic wing. Liam nudged me with his shoulder, his smile soft. “You okay, Vi?”

I forced a smile back, though it felt thin and fragile. “Yeah. Just…thinking.”

He nodded, accepting the half-truth, and I felt another surge of guilt. But not for long. Today, I’d find Xaden. I’d tell him. And then, I’d tell Rhiannon.

I wasn’t sure how this was all going to play out. But I couldn’t keep pretending that everything was normal when the world was cracking at the seams.

Not anymore.

 ***

Classes had dragged on endlessly, my thoughts tangled with worry and resolve. When the final bell echoed through the halls, I knew exactly where I’d find him.

The sparring gym was alive with the sound of fists against padded dummies and the clatter of weapons. My steps faltered as I entered, the sight before me stealing my breath. Xaden was pushing weights, his muscles flexing and shifting with each rep, his shirt damp and clinging to his skin. His hair was tousled, a few strands falling into his eyes as he focused, his jaw set in concentration.

I lingered in the doorway for a moment longer than I should have, feeling my cheeks flush.

Bodhi, leaning against the wall, noticed me first. “Well, well, if it isn’t the little Scribe come to distract our fearless leader,” he called out with a smirk.

Xaden’s head snapped up, his eyes locking onto mine. He set the weights down with a soft thud and straightened, his expression shifting from surprise to something softer, though he schooled it quickly.

I stepped into the gym, forcing myself to play it cool. The room buzzed with conversation and the clash of weapons, so I kept my voice even, casual. “Hey. I need your help with something…dragon-related.”

His brows furrowed slightly, but he nodded, wiping his hands on a towel before tossing it to Bodhi. Without a word, he followed me through the gym and out the side door that led to the flight field.

The cool air hit us, and I felt a little more myself as I tugged him around a secluded corner where no one would pass by.

Before I could say a word, Xaden stepped close, his hand sliding to the small of my back as he kissed me, his lips capturing mine with a desperate kind of need that had my knees weak.

But I pressed my hands against his chest, gently pushing him back. “We need to talk,” I murmured against his lips.

His entire body tensed, his gaze darkening with something close to fear. “Violence…” His voice was rough, unsteady.

“It’s not about us,” I said quickly, and the relief that washed over his face was so palpable I almost laughed, though my heart ached at the fear I’d seen in his eyes.

I couldn’t resist teasing him just a little. I grabbed his shirtfront, pulling him back down for a quick kiss. “Don’t worry, Riorson. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

He exhaled a shaky laugh, his forehead pressing against mine. “Gods, you’re going to be the death of me.”

“Probably,” I whispered, my lips brushing his, before I pulled back, sobering. “But I do need to tell you something. Something important.”

His hands tightened on my waist, his brows drawing together. “What is it?”

I took a deep breath, the words I’d been holding back finally ready to spill out. “It’s about the Venin. About Brennan. About…everything.”

I need to talk to someone else about it,” I said, my voice low and steady, though I could feel my pulse skittering beneath my skin. “Someone besides you. Rhiannon deserves to know. She’s my best friend, Xaden. I can’t keep lying to her.”

His entire body tensed, his brows knitting together as he stepped back, shaking his head slightly. “No. It’s too dangerous, Violet. If this leaks out—if leadership even gets a whisper that you know—it won’t just be you in danger. It’ll be her, too. Everyone you care about.”

“I know the risks,” I said, my voice breaking, but I stood my ground, moving closer, pressing a hand against his chest. “I know what’s at stake, but I can’t keep carrying this alone. She’s the only person who’s kept me sane these past weeks. She deserves to know something, even just enough to stop thinking I’m falling apart for no reason.”

His shadows rippled around him, tense, coiled tight like he was waging war with himself. “Violence,” he murmured, the word raw. “If anything happens to her because of this…”

“I’ll keep her safe. I’ll be careful. I promise,” I pleaded, my voice softening as I slid my fingers along his jaw, tilting his face so he couldn’t look away. “Please, Xaden. I need this.”

He closed his eyes, his breath hitching as he exhaled slowly, as though trying to hold on to his resolve, but I felt the shift when his hand came up to cradle the back of my neck. “Just her,” he whispered, the words a fragile concession. “And only enough to make her understand. No more.”

Relief flooded through me, and I smiled softly. “Thank you,” I whispered, the weight of my secret lightening just enough to let me breathe.

His arms tightened around me, pulling me closer, and I let myself sink into his embrace. His lips found mine in a kiss that was slow, lingering, filled with the silent apologies he didn’t voice and the emotions neither of us were quite ready to name.

I kissed him back, my hands curling into his shirt as I melted against him. The world around us blurred into nothing, the press of his body grounding me, reminding me I wasn’t alone. His shadows coiled around us, a protective shroud that felt like the closest thing to safety I’d known in weeks.

He drew back just slightly, his forehead resting against mine, his breath mingling with mine. “I hate this,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “I hate that you’re caught in all of this. That you’re in danger because of them… because of me.”

“You’re not to blame,” I whispered, brushing my thumb over his cheekbone. “I chose to be here. With you. I’d make the same choice again.”

His lips pressed to my forehead, his hands framing my face as though he was memorizing every detail, branding it into his memory. “I don’t deserve you,” he said softly, but I silenced him with a kiss.

“For the record,” I murmured against his lips, “I’m not going anywhere.”

His breath hitched, and then his mouth was on mine again, his kiss deepening with an urgency that spoke of all the things he wanted to say but couldn’t. I felt it in the way his hands trembled slightly as they skimmed my waist, in the way his shadows trembled with his restraint.

When he finally broke the kiss, he pressed his lips to my temple and held me for a moment longer, just breathing me in. “Go talk to her,” he whispered against my skin, his voice hoarse. “But then come back to me.”

“I will,” I promised, reluctantly pulling away.

He let me go, his hand lingering at my wrist as though reluctant to break the contact. “Be careful, Violence.”

With a last smile, I turned and headed off, my heart still racing from his touch, from the gravity of what I was about to share.

 I hesitated outside Rhiannon’s door for a moment, steeling myself, then knocked softly. A few seconds later, it cracked open, and she peered out, her hair tousled from sleep.

“Vi? What’s wrong?” she asked, stepping aside to let me in.

I slipped into her room, my pulse racing as I turned to face her. “I need to tell you something. Something huge. But you have to promise me, Rhi, promise me you won’t tell anyone. Not a soul.”

Her brows knitted, concern blooming in her gaze. “Of course, I promise. What is it?”

I took a deep breath, the weight of it pressing down on my chest. “The venin. They’re real. The attacks… they’re not just flyers. The leadership has been lying to us all.”

Rhiannon’s eyes widened, her mouth opening and closing like she was struggling for words. “That’s… but the wards—”

“They’re faltering,” I cut in gently. “They’re not as strong as we’ve been told. And the weapons they keep stockpiling, the alloy-hilted daggers… they’re the only things that can kill the venin. They’re trying to fight something we’ve been kept in the dark about.”

She sank onto the edge of her bed, her hands trembling. “It makes sense. The inconsistencies in Battle Brief, the way they never give us the full picture of the frontlines… Gods, Vi, this is huge.”

I nodded, my throat tightening. “I know. And I’m scared. But you can’t tell anyone, Rhi. Not until we know more, not until we can trust the right people.”

Rhiannon’s gaze met mine, fierce and determined. “I won’t. I swear it. But Vi… you’re not in this alone. Whatever’s happening, whatever you need—I’m with you.”

Relief flooded through me, making me sag slightly. “Thank you, Rhi. That means more than you know.”

She reached over and clasped my hand tightly. “We’ll figure this out. Together.”

For the first time in days, a spark of hope ignited in my chest.

***

I heard a soft knock on my door, and my heart skipped a beat. I already knew who it was. I leapt off my bed, pulling the door open before he could knock again.

Xaden stood there, dressed in his riding leathers, a cocky tilt to his lips. “You’re going to miss me, aren’t you?”

My heart sank. “You’re leaving?”

He nodded, stepping inside and closing the door softly behind him. “Garrick and I are assigned to watch an outpost as a third-year task. We’ll be gone for a week.”

A week. The thought of him being gone—even for a day—twisted my stomach. I didn’t like how hard the idea hit me, how deep it cut to think of him away from me.

I must have made a face because Xaden chuckled low, stepping closer, his shadows curling faintly around his shoulders. “I knew it,” he teased. “You’ll miss me.”

I scowled, though it lacked any real heat. “Of course I’ll miss you.”

“Good to know,” he murmured, brushing a knuckle over my cheek. “But you won’t have to.”

I blinked. “What?”

A slow, wicked smile curved his lips. “I had leadership make an exception. You’re coming with us.”

My jaw nearly hit the floor. “What?”

His eyes gleamed with mischief. “Tairn and Sgaeyl can’t be separated for more than four days since they’re mated,” he said, his voice dropping into that teasing growl that made my knees weak. “It’s not entirely accurate, but we’ll use it as our cover for the drop.”

Before I could think, I was launching myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck so tightly he stumbled back a step with a surprised laugh. “Thank you,” I breathed against his lips, pressing a kiss there, then another, until he was chuckling softly.

“I knew you’d like the idea,” he murmured, pulling me close, his hands tracing down my spine.

I kissed him hard, my heart racing, every nerve alight with excitement and gratitude. “Thank you for trusting me,” I whispered between kisses.

His arms tightened, his mouth hot and possessive on mine. “I trust you more than anyone, Violence,” he murmured against my lips, his words sending a shiver down my spine.

His hands slipped under my shirt, rough palms against my skin, and I gasped, arching into him. He growled low, deep in his chest, and I felt the vibration through every inch of me.

The door was closed, the world shut out. His lips trailed down my neck, his teeth grazing my skin. “I’m going to make sure you’re thinking of me every second of that drop,” he said, his voice rough with need.

“I already do,” I gasped as his fingers found the waistband of my pants.

He groaned, pulling back just enough to look into my eyes. “We don’t have much time before Garrick comes looking for me,” he said, but his hands were already undoing the ties of my pants, slipping them down, his mouth hot on mine.

“Then we’d better make it count,” I murmured, pulling his shirt over his head, revealing the hard planes of his chest.

He groaned again, his hands skimming down my hips, pulling me close. His shadows curled around us like a shield, and I knew—right then—that this moment was just for us.

Chapter Text

Xaden

"I can’t believe you made your mom agree on letting you bring me," Rhiannon squealed, practically bouncing as we walked toward the flight field, her voice carrying through the crisp morning air.

The sun was just beginning to rise, streaking pinks and golds across the sky. Beside me, Garrick and Bodhi strode along, their banter quiet compared to the girls’ chatter. Bodhi, of course, was coming along since somehow, Violet had also managed to convince her mother to sign off on that miracle.

The girls giggled, voices overlapping in a bubbling stream of excitement that grated against the tension knotting my shoulders.

“This isn’t a field trip,” I said, turning to face them, my tone dropping low and serious. “It’s real. It’s war.”

Violet and Rhiannon tried not to laugh, failing miserably. Violet waved me off with a smirk that made my gut twist with a frustrating combination of fondness and exasperation.

“Whatever, you brooding killjoy,” she said lightly, dismissing my warning as if it were nothing. They continued giggling, Rhiannon wondering aloud if we’d actually see Venin.

I rolled my eyes and kept walking, Bodhi laughing softly beside me and stealing a glance at Rhiannon when he thought no one was looking.

Garrick’s eyes widened in amusement, his mouth opening for a quip just as Bodhi elbowed him sharply in the ribs. He grunted, rubbing his side, while Bodhi shot him a warning glare.

I groaned, pinching the bridge of my nose. “It’s like I’m surrounded by toddlers.”

As we approached our dragons, the field eerily silent except for our small group, I felt the weight of what was coming settle over me. The danger. The risk. The reality that one misstep could cost everything.

Before we mounted, I pulled Violet in, my hands framing her face as I kissed her deeply, tasting the warmth of her, the comfort she gave me when the rest of the world was chaos.

“Fly safe,” I murmured against her lips, my voice rough, already dreading the moment she’d have to leave my arms. “I’ll see you when we land to take a break.”

She smiled wickedly against my mouth, her fingers curling lightly into my jacket, pulling me just a breath closer. “You better make sure you have a single room at Samara, Riorson,” she whispered, her voice teasing, sultry, the promise behind her words sinking straight into my skin. “I have plans for us.”

The grin that spread across her lips sent my blood rushing south, my cock twitching immediately at the thought of those plans . I groaned low in my throat, biting back the urge to pull her back into my arms and cancel the entire godsdamned drop just to have her right then and there.

“Fuck, Violence,” I hissed softly, my hands tightening on her waist.

She giggled against my mouth, clearly pleased with herself. “Don’t keep me waiting,” she added, before finally pulling back just enough to let me go, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

I stepped back, but just barely, needing one last lingering touch, one last look to commit her to memory before we both took to the sky.

“ Stop pining for her so hard, wingleader. It’s nauseating,” Sgaeyl mocked as we left Basgiath behind.

I rolled my eyes but a smile spread across my face. She was in this. And as much as it terrified me, it made me happy all the same.

***

I didn’t have a single room at Samara.

In fact, none of us did. After nearly eighteen hours of flight, we landed at the Samara outpost, exhausted and sore, the air biting with frost and the ever-present scent of smoke lingering around us. I watched Violet dismount from Tairn, her face pinched in pain, her joints stiff from the strain of being held in place for so long. Tairn had done everything in his power to keep her seated, but it had cost him, and it had cost her. She protested, of course—gods, she always protested—but I knew she would’ve fallen without his magic. I hated seeing her in pain, hated knowing she pushed herself too hard.

I was already scheming ways to make the long flights more comfortable for her—and easier on Tairn—by the time we were assigned rooms. Much to my frustration, the girls were placed in one room, while Garrick, Bodhi, and I were forced to share another. I’d barely gotten a moment alone with her since we landed, but at least she was safe under the roof of our allies.

For two days, we sat, waited, held the outpost as others were deployed to the frontlines. Our cover held—barely—thanks to a handful of riders in Samara who were secretly loyal to Tyrrendor. They covered for us, let us slip beneath the radar as we prepared for the drop. Now, after another grueling twelve-hour flight through freezing skies, we were finally approaching our destination.

I let out a slow breath, glancing up at Sgaeyl as she soared effortlessly ahead of me, her wings slicing through the air like knives.

“You holding up?” I asked through our bond, feeling her strength hum beneath my skin.

“I was born for this,” she answered smoothly, but the sharp pulse of concern flickered from her mind to mine. “ Your little Violence is pushing herself too far. Tairn can only do so much to keep her aloft.”

My jaw clenched. “ I know. We’ll land soon. I’ll take care of her.”

“See that you do.” Sgaeyl’s voice was as dry as the wind whipping past us, but beneath it was a layer of something close to affection. For her mate, and maybe, just maybe, for the stubborn silver-haired woman herself.

Violet

The moment Tairn’s massive body touched down in the clearing, I felt it. My joints protested violently as I slid my foot from the stirrup, pain shooting down my legs like molten fire. Even Tairn’s efforts to keep me as still and secure as possible during the flight hadn’t spared me from the hours of relentless tension.

“You’re not as unbreakable as you think, silver one,” Tairn grumbled, the gravel of his voice layered with his unique brand of affection—and unmistakable worry.

“I’m fine,” I sent back, even though the tremble in my knees told another story.

My boots hit the ground, and my legs folded like paper. Strong hands were there in an instant, catching me and pulling me against a familiar chest.

“I’ve got you,” Xaden murmured, his breath warm against my temple, his hands steadying me at my waist.

“I’m fine,” I said quickly, though the stiffness in my spine felt anything but.

His hands lingered a moment longer, his jaw tightening as his dark eyes scanned my face, searching for any sign of real hurt. He didn’t believe me.

The clearing stretched out around us, ringed with trees whose leaves shimmered like silver in the breeze. A narrow lake snaked between the rocks, its surface mirroring the rising moon. Rhiannon, Garrick and Bodhi dismounted nearby, both of them scanning the perimeter as they secured their packs from their Dragons.

Before I could even think to ask what was next, shadows moved through the trees—flyers, cutting through the moonlight like shadows come to life. They landed swiftly and with precision, dismounting at the edge of the clearing.

“Shit,” Xaden muttered, stepping protectively in front of me. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?” I asked, my stomach knotting.

Bodhi gave a low snort. “For his ex-girlfriend.”

I froze, my thoughts stumbling over the words. Ex-girlfriend?

The group of five Flyers emerged and a tall woman strode out from the shadows between the trees with them, her polished leathers glinting under the moonlight like a warning. Her long dark braid swung behind her as she approached, the confident smirk curving her lips already setting my nerves on edge.

“Xaden,” she purred, her voice low and smooth as silk, like the kind of voice used to getting exactly what it wanted. She stepped right into his space, her fingers brushing down his arm before he could fully pull away. “Didn’t think I’d see you here tonight.”

“Didn’t have much choice, Cat” Xaden said, his voice clipped, professional. But there was a subtle tightening of his jaw, a tension in his shoulders, and—gods, was that a faint flush creeping up his neck?

I felt a pang in my chest, sharp and unexpected.

Her eyes flicked to me then, taking me in with a slow, assessing glance, her smirk deepening as though she’d just uncovered an amusing secret. “And you must be Violet,” she said, her tone almost pitying. “I’ve heard… stories.”

I stiffened, my spine going ramrod straight.

Before I could formulate a response, Garrick stepped up, dropping a crate onto a nearby flat rock with a solid thud . “Weapons,” he announced, flipping open the lid to reveal the gleam of alloy-hilted daggers. The glint of moonlight on their polished edges sent a shiver up my spine, a stark reminder of why we were here.

The flyers gathered, a few murmuring greetings, others nodding sharply. A map was unfurled across the rock, and everyone clustered around as plans were laid out. They spoke in quick, clipped tones about the dire state of Poromiel, how the outpost was barely holding against the surge of Venin attacks.

“Their numbers are increasing faster than we can track,” one of the flyers, her name was Syrena from what I’ve gathered said grimly. “They’re testing the perimeter wards more frequently. It’s only a matter of time before they breach fully.”

“We have to get these weapons in place before that happens,” another murmured.

My fingers trembled as I traced the path they’d marked on the map, dread settling cold and heavy in my stomach. This is real. This is happening now.

Beside me, Xaden’s hand hovered protectively at my lower back, his presence a steady, grounding weight. But before I could take comfort in it, Cat—the woman with the smirk—sidled up beside him again, her arm brushing against his as though she belonged there.

“Careful, Wingleader,” she said, her voice dropping to something low and intimate. “Wouldn’t want anyone thinking you’re distracted tonight.”

My throat tightened, a hot flare of jealousy igniting in my chest even as I fought to keep my face neutral.

You’re not jealous, I told myself fiercely, but Tairn’s voice rumbled in my mind, darkly amused. “Liar.”

I bristled internally, but before I could snap back, his voice softened—well, as much as Tairn’s could . “You are a thousand times better than her, silver one. You don’t need to compare yourself to anyone. Especially not someone as hollow as that one.”

His words, blunt and harsh as always, somehow melted the tight knot of insecurity in my chest. I breathed in deeply, my shoulders relaxing slightly. “Thanks, Tairn,” I thought.

“Don’t thank me. Just remember it. And remember, you have me, too.” There was a rough affection there, threaded through his gruff tone.

I smiled softly to myself, the familiar warmth of his presence curling around me like a protective shield.

And then Xaden’s gaze caught mine, his brow furrowed, a silent question in his eyes. I felt the warmth deepen in my cheeks, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I let myself lean into the weight of his gaze. Then he shifted slightly, putting a subtle but unmistakable inch of distance between them, his hand flexing at his side like he was fighting the urge to push her away. But Cat only smiled wider, her eyes flicking to me with open challenge.

“You’re here to observe, aren’t you, Violet?” she said smoothly, her tone dripping with condescension. “Might be best if you stayed back and let the rest of us handle the dangerous part.”

Garrick’s head snapped up, his brows drawing together in warning, but Xaden’s voice cut through the clearing, low and lethal. “Enough, Cat.”

“Oh, I’m just teasing,” she said lightly, though the glint in her eyes told me otherwise. “We all know you have your… preferences.”

I bristled, my pulse spiking, but Xaden’s voice hardened further. “She’s here because she’s earned her place. Now, focus.”

The group’s murmurs quieted under the sharp command in his tone. I couldn’t stop the flush of satisfaction—or the answering look Xaden gave me, a flicker of something deeper, possessive and protective, threading through the bond.

Rhiannon and I looked at each other in annoyance, her lips twitching just slightly.

The map was studied more intently, plans adjusted, roles assigned. Garrick handed out the daggers, his expression grim but determined. “If we get separated, meet back here,” he said. “Stay in pairs, don’t engage unless absolutely necessary.”

As the group began to disperse to prepare for the next phase, Cat lingered, her fingers brushing Xaden’s arm one last time, her voice low enough for me to hear. “If you need me tonight, you know where to find me.”

I clenched my fists, my pulse roaring in my ears, but before I could react, Xaden’s hand found mine under the table, squeezing it firmly. His voice was quiet, meant for me alone. “Ignore her. You’re the only one who matters.”

A wave of something warm and fierce surged through me at his words. And in that moment, the lake, the flyers, the war we were about to walk into—all of it faded, leaving only the two of us standing there, our bond thrumming with unspoken words and unshakable truths.

Chapter Text

Xaden

It was safer to stick together. Even though it made me grind my teeth, we set up camp with the flyers, creating a temporary haven nestled against the dark line of the lake and surrounded by towering trees. Garrick and Bodhi joined a few of the others to hunt, while the rest of us made camp, but my mind wasn’t on strategy or supplies. My focus was on her.

Violet stood near the fire, her silver-streaked hair catching the moonlight as she helped Rhiannon with the gear. I watched her, the firelight dancing against her skin, and something primal stirred in my chest.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

Without a word, I strode over and caught her hand, lacing my fingers with hers. “Come with me.”

Her brow arched, a question flickering across her face, but she didn’t resist as I led her away from the firelight, away from the murmured plans and tension of the camp. We slipped between the trees, the quiet of the woods wrapping around us.

The lake appeared through the branches, moonlight shimmering over the surface. It looked like liquid silver, almost too perfect to be real. I stopped at the edge of the water, pulling her closer, my hands resting on her hips.

“Get naked,” I murmured.

She blinked up at me, a slow smirk curving her lips. “In this cold? Are you insane?”

I chuckled softly, my thumb brushing over her waist. “This isn’t just any lake. There are warm springs beneath it. The water’s perfect.”

Her skepticism warred with curiosity, and then, with a soft laugh, she peeled off her jacket and shirt, revealing the pale expanse of her skin beneath. She hesitated, her gaze flicking to mine, and I nodded, giving her the reassurance she needed.

I stripped off my own clothes, the cool air whispering over my skin until the warmth of the water called to me. I stepped in first, letting the natural heat envelop me, and settled onto a submerged rock ledge, the water lapping at my shoulders.

“Come here,” I said, my voice low, the command gentle but unmistakable.

She stepped cautiously into the water, a soft gasp escaping her lips as the warmth embraced her. She waded closer, and when she reached me, I caught her hand and guided her onto my lap, her back pressing against my chest.

I groaned softly at the feel of her body against mine, her skin slick and warm, her weight grounding me in a way nothing else could. My hands slid up her sides, fingers tracing the lines of tension in her shoulders. I kneaded the sore muscles gently, feeling her melt into me, her head tilting back to rest against my shoulder.

“Gods, Xaden,” she murmured, her voice breathless.

“You’ve been holding yourself too tight,” I whispered against her ear, my lips grazing the sensitive skin. “Let me take care of you.”

She shivered, her breath hitching as my thumbs worked over the knots in her shoulders, my hands sliding lower to trace the ridges of her spine. My touch wasn’t meant to seduce, but the way she arched into me, the quiet sounds she made, sent a pulse of heat straight through me.

I tightened my hold slightly, letting her feel my need, my lips brushing the curve of her neck. “You drive me fucking insane, Violence,” I murmured. “And if I weren’t trying to be a somewhat decent man, I’d take you right here, right now.”

Her soft laugh sent shivers down my spine. “Who says you’re decent?” she teased, but her breathless tone betrayed her desire.

I kissed her neck, my teeth grazing her skin just enough to make her squirm in my lap. I dragged it out, letting the tension coil between us, but I didn’t let it snap. Not yet.

***

The fire crackled, casting flickering light over the clearing where we sat, a rare reprieve from the tension of the mission. Gryphons lounged around us, their wings tucked in as they rested, while the dragons settled a little further out, forming a protective half-circle of scale and power around the camp. Even Sgaeyl and Tairn, for all their mutual disdain, were content to keep a respectful distance.

Garrick and Bodhi bantered with Rhiannon, trading stories of past drops and dangerous encounters. Even Violet laughed along, her silver-streaked hair catching the firelight, her cheeks flushed from warmth and proximity. For a moment—just a heartbeat—it felt normal. Like we were any group of reckless idiots sharing stories by a fire.

“Honestly,” Bodhi said, shaking his head. “The last drop I did, the only thing I could think about was how to keep my ass from freezing solid during the night shift.”

“I’ll trade you,” Garrick grinned. “My last one ended with a gryphon dropping an entire deer carcass on the edge of camp. Splattered blood and fur everywhere.”

They all groaned in unison, but the laughter rolled out like a wave, and I couldn’t help the quiet smile tugging at my lips.

That was until Cat decided to open her mouth.

She lounged against a fallen log, her legs crossed with exaggerated ease, her eyes gleaming with something sharper than amusement. “Oh, look at all of you,” she purred, voice dripping with saccharine poison. “Playing campfire games like we’re not just pawns in this little war. It’s almost sweet, really.”

Her gaze slid lazily across the group, then landed squarely on Violet, narrowing just a fraction as her smirk widened. “Must be nice,” she continued, voice laced with barely concealed malice, “to pretend like you actually belong here. But don’t get too comfortable, darling. Some of us remember exactly what role you’re supposed to play.”

My jaw clenched, but before I could speak, her gaze flicked to me—sharp as a dagger and just as dangerous. “And as for you, Xaden,” she drawled, her voice low and intimate, the heat in it unmistakable, “you’re not fooling anyone, you know. We both know you get bored easily. How long before she’s just another plaything you discard when something shinier comes along?”

The words slid like a knife through the air, her meaning as clear as the moon above us. The smirk on her lips was a challenge, a dare. And she knew exactly which buttons to push.

My jaw tightened, but before I could retort, Syrena’s voice cut through the night like a blade. “Enough, Cat.” The older rider’s tone brooked no argument. “We all know your history with Xaden. But some of us have moved on. Maybe you should try it sometime.”

Cat’s glare darkened, but she wisely kept her mouth shut.

Violet rose from her seat, brushing her hands on her pants. “Come on, Rhi. Let’s handle the… logistics.”

As they turned to leave, Violet paused, her eyes catching mine. In a move so bold it made my pulse spike, she stepped close, cupped my face in her hands, and kissed me. Hard. Tongue and all.

I groaned against her lips, my hands instinctively finding her waist. She tasted of firelight and rebellion, and when she pulled back, I was left breathless and blinking, completely at her mercy.

She smirked, leaving me with a low laugh and a promise in her eyes.

“Gods,” I muttered, watching her walk away. 

***

The camp settled as the night deepened, and we began laying out cots beneath the stars. The air was cold, biting against any exposed skin, but I had no intention of leaving Violet to freeze.

We bundled under a pile of thick blankets, her front pressed against my chest, the steady rise and fall of her breathing calming something deep inside me. My hand rested lightly on her hip, keeping her close.

Across the fire, I caught the sound of quiet laughter, and when I glanced up, I saw Bodhi and Rhiannon huddled closer together than necessary, their cots nearly touching.

A slow smile curled my lips. “Well, would you look at that,” I murmured against Violet’s ear.

She giggled softly, her breath tickling my neck. “Who would’ve thought.”

I tightened my arm around her, pulling her even closer, my nose brushing her hair. “You’re warm,” I murmured, my voice low, full of need and promise.

And gods, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep this moment innocent.

Apparently Violet thought the same because her hand slid down between us, wrapping around me through my pants, and my entire body tensed. I bit back a groan, grinding my teeth as she stroked me, her touch maddeningly slow, deliberate. “Fuck, Violet,” I hissed, my voice hoarse and low.

She pressed a finger to my lips, her mouth curling in a wicked smile. “You have to be quiet if we’re going to get away with this.”

Shadows twitched around us, barely contained, my breath hitching as she continued her torment. Her kisses along my jaw sent shivers racing down my spine. Gods, this woman. “You’re going to be the death of me,” I growled, my voice raw with need.

She tugged my pants down, her fingers wrapping firmly around me. My hips jerked, a strangled sound breaking from my throat. I buried my face against her shoulder, trying to muffle my groan as her hand worked me with a torturous pace. My own hands found their way beneath her clothes, cupping her ass, pulling her flush against me. I needed her closer, needed her now.

“Violet,” I groaned, a desperate warning, but her mouth was at my neck, her breath warm and teasing. “You have to be quiet or this won’t work.”

“Impossible with you,” I muttered, my voice fraying. My hand slipped beneath the waistband of her pants, finding her wet and ready. I worked her gently, feeling her hips stutter against my hand. She clenched around my fingers, her soft moan stifled against my skin, and when she came, it was with a quiet gasp that made my cock throb with need.

But she wasn’t done.

She shoved my pants down the rest of the way, her urgency matching my own. I helped her, groaning as she threw her leg over my hip, her heat sliding over me. I slid into her slowly, both of us gasping at the contact, at the unbearable pleasure of being joined. I gripped her hips, holding her still as I thrust deep and slow, savoring every second.

“Fuck, you feel like heaven,” I whispered against her ear, my voice strained with restraint.

She rocked against me, her movements driving me insane, my shadows curling tighter, itching to lash out. I needed to be deeper, closer.

I rolled her beneath me, covering her body with mine, my thrusts slow but deep, dragging moans from both of us. She pulled the blanket over our heads, creating a cocoon of secrecy, our breaths mingling in the heated air.

“You have to stay quiet,” she whispered, her voice teasing and breathless.

I huffed a laugh, my teeth scraping her neck. “Impossible with you.”

Her body tightened around me, her cry muffled against my mouth as I kissed her deeply, swallowing her sound as she came apart beneath me. My own control snapped, my hips driving forward as I spilled into her, my shadows flaring wildly before settling around us like protective arms.

We stayed there, tangled in the dark, catching our breaths, her skin warm and slick against mine. I traced lazy patterns along her arms, pressing my lips to her temple. “You’re trouble,” I murmured, voice thick with affection.

“And you love it,” she whispered back, her breath washing over my skin.

I couldn’t even deny it. Not for a godsdamned second.

The cold nipped at our cheeks, but under the blanket, it was a cocoon of heat and her, the softness of her skin pressed against mine. My hips flexed involuntarily, and I felt her tighten around me. I wanted to pull back, to ease out before the temptation to take her again won, but her hand slid to my lower back, fingers digging in just slightly.

“Don’t,” she whispered, her voice a breath against my lips. “Not yet.”

Gods, I wanted to give her whatever she asked for. I let out a low groan, pressing my forehead to hers. “Violence,” I murmured, the sound rough with emotion I didn’t even bother to hide anymore. 

Her smile was soft, her eyes half-lidded and dreamy. 

I huffed a quiet laugh, brushing my knuckles along her jaw. I shifted just enough to turn us, careful not to leave her warmth, until we lay on our sides, facing each other, still connected. Her breath fanned over my lips, her skin flushed, and her silver strands tangled with mine.

“I’m not good at this,” I admitted quietly, my voice barely a whisper. “At saying the right thing. At… being enough for someone like you.”

She opened her mouth, but I shook my head. “Just—let me finish.” I smoothed her hair back from her face, letting my fingers linger against her skin. “I know I’m not easy. I’m complicated, and dark, and fuck, I’m selfish when it comes to you. But… I’ve never wanted something as much as I want this—us. You.”

Her lips parted on a shaky breath, and she pressed her forehead to mine. “I want this too,” she whispered. “So much.”

We lay there for a long moment, the weight of everything unspoken between us pressing down. Finally, she sighed, her breath warm against my skin. “When we’re back at Basgiath… we’re talking about Cat. About everything.”

I stiffened, sucking in a sharp breath. The name alone was enough to remind me of everything I’d been dreading, the truth she didn’t know. “Fuck,” I groaned, dropping my head against her shoulder.

“Promise me,” she murmured.

I nodded reluctantly. “I promise. But… just for now… let’s not think about it.”

Her smile was sad but understanding, and she tugged me closer, her legs tangling with mine. “Just for now,” she agreed softly.

I brushed my lips over hers, slow and tender, letting my hands roam over her skin in soft, lingering touches. We whispered nonsense to each other, words that didn’t matter, except they did—because they were ours. Just ours.

Eventually, her breathing slowed, her body relaxing completely against mine. I held her close, feeling her warmth seep into me, grounding me. For the first time in what felt like forever, I let myself drift into sleep with her in my arms.

***

The world was still and quiet, the sky barely a whisper of color, soft pastels bleeding into the edges of darkness. The sun hadn’t yet risen, the camp wrapped in silence, everyone still asleep. For a fleeting, perfect moment, there was no war, no secrets, just her warmth and her breath against my skin.

That’s when I realized—I was still inside her.

My heart lurched, desire stirring instantly, making me painfully aware of how hard I was. Her breath tickled the crook of my neck, her soft, steady exhale sending a shiver through me. I was about to shift, to pull away gently before she could wake—but then she moved, a slow, unconscious roll of her hips, and I bit back a groan, the sound muffled against her shoulder.

“Violence,” I rasped, my voice low and broken with need. But instead of stopping, she pressed her lips to my neck, her smile slow and wicked against my skin. Her tongue darted out, tracing the sensitive spot just beneath my jaw before her teeth scraped there, sucking hard enough to make me groan out loud. I felt her smile deepen as she licked the sting away.

“Gods, you’re going to undo me,” I muttered, my hands tightening on her hips. I couldn’t stop myself as I thrust into her, the slow, grinding movement drawing a breathy moan from her lips.

Her back arched, pressing her breasts against my chest as her arms twined around my shoulders. “You’re already undone,” she whispered, her voice thick with sleep and desire, her lips brushing mine.

I captured her mouth in a deep, slow kiss, our tongues tangling as I rolled us so she was beneath me, her legs wrapping around my waist. My thrusts were unhurried but deliberate, each one dragging pleasure through my body like wildfire. Her nails scraped down my back, her soft moans muffled against my mouth as I kissed her deeper.

“More,” she breathed, her hips rising to meet mine, her heels digging into my lower back, urging me closer.

“Anything,” I groaned, nipping at her lower lip before trailing kisses along her jaw, down her throat. “You feel so fucking good, Violence. Gods, I could stay inside you forever.”

Her laugh was soft and breathless, her hands tangling in my hair as I rocked into her. “Shut up and keep going,” she whispered, her words a teasing purr against my lips.

I groaned, her teasing pushing me closer to the edge. My shadows twined lazily around us, curling protectively, like they too wanted to savor this moment. Her body tightened around me, her breath hitching as I drove her closer and closer.

“I’m there, Xaden,” she gasped, her voice breaking. “Please.”

“Come for me, baby,” I whispered, my lips against her ear, my thrusts quickening just enough to push her over the edge.

She shattered around me with a muffled cry, her mouth pressed against my neck as she trembled in my arms. The feel of her tightening, the soft, breathy sounds she made, undid me completely. I followed her with a low, broken groan, burying myself deep as I found my own release, our names tangled in gasps and whispers.

We stayed like that for a long moment, breathing hard, hearts racing, her legs still wrapped around me, our foreheads pressed together. I kissed her softly, brushing her hair back from her face. “You’re going to be the death of me,” I murmured, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.

Her answering laugh was soft and warm. “Good.”

Chapter Text

Violet

The world was still hushed, the sky painted with pale hues of dawn, but everyone was still asleep around the camp. Xaden and I had cleaned up quickly in the lake’s warm water, but instead of going about our morning, we slipped back under the heavy blanket piled on our cot, savoring the rare moment of peace and warmth.

His arms were wrapped tightly around me, our bodies tangled together in a quiet cocoon. For a precious stretch of time, there were no secrets, no masks, no war. Just his breath against my hair, the steady beat of his heart under my cheek, and the comforting weight of his hand tracing lazy patterns over my back.

I trailed my finger over the mark I’d sucked onto his neck earlier, a smile tugging at my lips.

“What?” Xaden asked, his voice thick with sleep but already teasing.

“Nothing,” I said, my grin widening. “Just... I marked you as mine.”

His laugh rumbled through his chest, a warm vibration I could feel against my skin. “Violence,” he said, his voice full of disbelief and fondness. “You’re incorrigible.”

I hummed against his neck, snuggling even closer, and he kissed the top of my head.

We lay like that for a while, the world around us stirring but not yet awake. The air outside the blanket was cold, but in here, it was just us.

Eventually, Garrick’s voice cut through the silence, a teasing lilt in his tone. “Are you two planning to emerge before the sun sets again? Or should we just leave you here to snuggle forever?”

Xaden groaned and tightened his grip around me, his face buried in my hair. “No, she’s not going anywhere,” he muttered, his voice muffled.

I laughed softly, my cheeks flushing as I wiggled against him. “I guess we should—”

“No,” he grumbled. “Stay.”

Garrick made a dramatic gagging noise. “It’s terrifying what you’ve done to him, Violet. He was a brooding menace two months ago, and now look at him—he’s a lovesick mess. And for the love of Dunne, throw a soundshield up next time you two are going at it. I won’t get that out of my head for like ever.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, feeling Xaden’s breath huff against my shoulder as he groaned again. But eventually, we both shifted, slipping out from under the blankets and pulling on our flight jackets.

We joined the others at the fire, where breakfast was being shared with the fliers. Syrena was there, surprisingly kind and welcoming, nothing like her sister Cat. We shared stories and light conversation, and Xaden’s hand rarely left me—brushing my lower back, wrapping lightly around my waist, his thumb tracing gentle circles against my hip.

At one point, I caught Rhiannon sitting suspiciously close to Bodhi, the two of them sharing quiet words and stolen glances. She blushed when Bodhi whispered something to her, her cheeks blooming with color. When her eyes met mine across the fire, she gave me a pointed look and mouthed, Later.

I arched an eyebrow at her, my lips twitching into a smile. It was good to see her like this—happy, even if it was for just a moment.

Xaden

The camp stirred with quiet chatter and the shuffle of boots as everyone began packing up. I pulled Violet close, her body warm against mine. As she turned to gather her gear, I couldn’t resist giving her ass a playful smack, earning a soft squeak of surprise and a mock glare thrown over her shoulder.

Before I could follow, Cat’s voice rang out, sharp and smug. “She must have some good pussy if you actually bother to talk to her longer than a week.”

I froze mid-step, the air around me chilling as my fists clenched. My jaw locked tight, but before I could unleash the storm building inside me, Violet straightened, her posture radiating dangerous calm.

“I’ll handle this,” she said quietly, her voice cutting through the rising tension.

I watched, a mixture of pride and apprehension knotting my stomach, as she strode toward Cat. Violet’s steps were measured, deliberate, and her silver-tipped hair shimmered with every movement.

She stopped directly in front of Cat, her gaze steady and voice low. “Don’t be bitter, Cat.”

Cat laughed, a sound too sharp to be genuine. “Please. We all know you’re fragile. There’s no way he’s sated with you.” Her smirk widened, her voice dropping to a cruel whisper. “It’s no wonder your mother’s so cold—she’s probably blaming herself for your father’s heart giving out.”

The air snapped.

Before anyone could move, Violet’s dagger flashed, and with practiced precision, she tackled Cat, driving the air from her lungs. The blade pressed against Cat’s throat, her breath hitching in surprise.

“Say that again,” Violet snarled, her voice a vicious whisper that sent shivers down my spine. “And this dagger will do more than scratch the surface.” She made a shallow cut, just enough to draw a thin line of blood. “Understood?”

Cat, wide-eyed and gasping, nodded frantically. She looked at her sister.

Syrena, standing a few feet away, barely hid her smirk. “That’s your own damn fault, Cat,” she said, her voice dry with amusement.

Violet pushed off, leaving Cat crumpled and humiliated, and stalked back to me. My blood was still humming from the sight, a possessive fire burning low in my gut.

I grabbed her by the waist, pulling her flush against me. “That,” I growled against her ear, “was so fucking hot.”

Before she could reply, Garrick swept her off her feet, spinning her in the air as he laughed. “Finally, someone put the witch in her place!”

Laughter rippled through our group. Rhiannon’s face was flushed with pride as she beamed at Violet, and Bodhi stood back, watching with a soft, almost wistful smile as he glanced between Rhiannon and Violet.

As the lightness spread, we all mounted our dragons, the tension replaced by a crackling energy. I watched as Violet settled herself onto Tairn’s back, her confidence shining.

I grinned, the image of her with that blade pressed to Cat’s throat searing itself into my memory.

“Ready to go home?” I called.

She turned, her smile fierce and beautiful. “Let’s go.”

And together, we took to the sky, leaving behind the clearing, the past few days’ chaos, and the sharp sting of Cat’s words in favor of the windswept path back to Basgiath.

Violet

Liam kept pace beside me as we made our way to the library, the morning light glinting off his rebellion relic. As instructed by Xaden, Liam had been my shadow since we returned to Basgiath, sticking to me like glue. He was easy company, though, his quiet nature balancing out the constant chaos in my head.

Inside the library, Jesinia greeted me with a smile that dimmed a bit when she noticed Liam’s markings. But to my surprise, she softened when he smiled back, his easy charm defusing the usual coldness. I caught the subtle way she tucked a stray curl behind her ear, and Liam’s gaze lingered a beat longer than necessary.

“You’re shameless,” I teased, nudging Liam as we found a table in the corner with our scrolls and quills.

He chuckled softly, whittling a small figurine from a scrap of wood with the blade he carried. “What? She’s nice.”

I tilted my head, watching the delicate curls of wood fall away. “She is. And she could do a lot worse.”

He rolled his eyes, setting the unfinished carving aside. “You’re incorrigible.”

As we settled into the quiet, I finally asked, “What’s your story with Xaden? I know he’s protective of you, but you’re not just a squad member, are you?”

Liam’s smile faltered, his fingers tightening around his blade. “We were both fostered at the same estate. Tirvainne, under Duke Lindell’s care. After the... apostasy.” He hesitated, as if weighing whether to continue. “Our families’ lands were stripped and given to loyalists. Our parents executed. The marked kids—there were 107 of us—were scattered to different foster homes. Xaden was the oldest. Julianne’s the youngest—only six now. My little sister’s a year younger than me. She’ll come here next year if she makes it.”

My chest ached at the thought of it. I knew marked children were conscripted, but hearing it like this, in Liam’s quiet voice, made it real in a way I hadn’t felt before. “I didn’t know they only let you become riders,” I whispered.

Liam shrugged, trying to make light of it but his voice tightened. “Some think it’s so we’d all die in the process, without them getting their hands dirty. They didn’t expect the dragons to choose us.”

I swallowed hard, my thoughts spiraling back to Xaden—his relentless strength, his fierce protectiveness. Of course, he’d trained them. Of course, he’d fought for them. He’d been fighting for them his entire life.

Liam’s voice broke through my thoughts. “He taught me to fight when we were kids. He’s the reason I’m alive now. Babysitting you is nothing compared to what I owe him.”

I smiled softly, my fingers tracing over the spine of a nearby tome. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. Even if Xaden ordered it.”

Liam grinned, glancing toward Jesinia, who was shelving scrolls nearby with a blush.

My attention drifted to a scroll on the table, the ink catching my eye. It mentioned Sumerton, a village on the southern border, recently attacked in a high-altitude raid. My stomach twisted. The Venin.

The weight of everything—the secret war, Brennan, the dragons, the mark of rebellion in his blood—it pressed down on me, suffocating.

I needed to talk to him. I needed to feel his arms around me, to ground myself in his touch, his voice, his kiss.

But for now, I reached for the scroll, my fingers trembling slightly, and read on.

Later that morning, Liam and I trudged into the battle briefing room, my head still buzzing from everything we’d read in the library. My stomach twisted into a knot that wouldn’t loosen, but I forced myself to focus.

Liam leaned closer, his voice low but teasing. “You know Xaden’s been extra paranoid, right? He warded your bedroom door so only you can open it.”

I blinked, my lips parting in surprise. “He did what?”

He grinned, nudging me with his shoulder. “Didn’t want anyone sneaking in. Not even me, though he didn’t say it in so many words.”

My cheeks flushed, the memory of the night before—and the way Xaden’s hands had gripped my hips—surging back with vivid heat.

Before I could respond, Professor Devera’s sharp voice cut through the room, calling the briefing to order.

“Cadets, listen up. We’ll be discussing the upcoming squad battle. The winning team will shadow an active wing on the front lines,” she announced, her voice echoing against the stone walls. The murmurs of interest filled the room, but my thoughts tangled with dread.

Professor Markham, standing stiffly beside her, cleared his throat. “Things have been relatively quiet lately, so today we’ll be reviewing a past battle rather than recent activity.”

I froze, my heart slamming against my ribs. Quiet? My fists clenched at my sides. I forced myself to breathe evenly, but Liam must have sensed my tension.

He leaned in, murmuring, “Was that scroll marked confidential?”

I shook my head slowly, my voice tight with frustration. “No. It wasn’t. They’re pretending it didn’t happen.”

Liam’s lips pressed into a grim line. “They’re hiding it. Again.”

I swallowed the lump of anger rising in my throat. An entire village gone, and they don’t even mention it. Don’t even let us prepare. How are we supposed to survive what’s coming when leadership keeps us blind?

My mind spun with questions, my blood boiling. The injustice of it, the sheer, reckless stupidity of their silence, burned like acid in my veins.

But I sat there, forcing my expression into one of calm disinterest, even as my pulse raged and my thoughts raced.

If they wouldn’t prepare us, then I’d have to do it myself.

***

A knock echoed softly at my door, and I straightened from where I was cross-legged on my bed. “Come in,” I called, expecting maybe Liam—or even Xaden, though he’d left earlier to meet with him.

The door creaked open, and it was Garrick, his usually easy smile replaced by a hesitant, almost guilty expression. “Is Xaden here?” he asked, his voice low.

I shook my head. “No, he’s with Liam, I think. What’s wrong?”

He hesitated, shifting from foot to foot, before stepping fully inside and closing the door behind him. “Nothing. Or…everything. Can I…” His voice trailed off, and I gestured toward the floor beside me.

“Sit,” I said softly.

He sank down beside me, his back against the bed frame, and for a moment we just sat there in silence. Then I turned to him, nudging his shoulder gently. “What’s up, Garrick?”

He exhaled a shaky breath. “It’s Imogen,” he said, voice almost too quiet to hear.

My brow furrowed. “Imogen?”

And then the realization hit me, warm and clear. “You like her,” I said, the corners of my mouth twitching up.

He groaned softly, dropping his head back against the bed frame. “I don’t just like her, Violet. I love her. Have for a long time. And I just keep… screwing it up. She’s strong and stubborn and half the time I can’t even tell if she hates me or tolerates me. But gods, I’m in love with her.”

My heart softened. I reached over, resting my hand on his arm. “Have you told her?”

He shook his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “Not once. I figured it was safer to just… not.”

I squeezed his arm gently. “You should. You should tell her, Garrick. This place—we could die any day. It’s not worth waiting. If you feel it, you need to say it. Before it’s too late.”

For a moment, he just looked at me, something unspoken passing between us. Then he smiled, a real smile this time. “You’re something else, Violet. Xaden’s lucky to have you.”

I grinned, a spark of mischief lighting my eyes. “Oh, he is.”

Garrick chuckled, and the tension between us eased into something lighter, something easier. We talked for a while longer, joking about training mishaps, about Liam’s unshakable optimism, and even about Rhiannon and Bodhi’s obvious but unspoken thing.

Eventually, Garrick stood, brushing off his hands. I rose with him, and for a moment, he just looked at me. Then, without warning, he pulled me into a tight, warm bear hug.

“Thank you,” he murmured against my hair.

“Anytime,” I said softly, hugging him back.

He stepped back, his smile lingering as he turned and slipped out of my room, leaving behind a sense of quiet understanding that warmed me more than the blankets ever could.

Xaden

I stepped out of Liam’s room, rubbing the back of my neck, ready to return to my own thoughts when I noticed Garrick quietly slipping out of Violet’s room. A flash of jealousy surged through me, irrational and intense. My jaw tightened as I approached him, crossing my arms.

“What were you doing in my girlfriend’s room this late?” I asked, the word girlfriend sharper than I intended, but it was out before I could stop it.

Garrick’s smirk widened, the cocky bastard. “Relax, Riorson. We were just talking. Or does she need your permission for that now, boyfriend?” He emphasized the word with a gleam in his eyes.

I scowled, but he raised a hand in mock surrender.

“She’s a really great person, you know,” he added, his voice softer this time, genuine. His eyes met mine. “You’re lucky.”

I exhaled slowly, tension bleeding from my shoulders as the edge of jealousy dulled. “I know.”

Garrick clapped me on the shoulder, his grip firm but friendly. “Don’t fuck it up, Riorson.”

I chuckled under my breath, watching him walk off down the hall, shaking his head with that infuriating grin.

Turning, I faced Violet’s door, a grin tugging at my lips as I quietly slipped inside her room.

I slipped quietly into her room, the door clicking shut behind me. The room was dimly lit by a lone mage light in the corner, casting a warm glow over her figure. She was sitting on the bed, knees drawn up to her chest, staring down at the blankets as if they held the answers to all her questions.

“Hey,” I murmured, crossing the space to her. “You okay?”

She glanced up, her silver hair falling in disheveled waves around her face. “I’m just…thinking.”

I sat down beside her, close enough that our thighs touched. “Thinking about what?”

She hesitated, then let out a shaky breath. “About my signet. About how Tairn still isn’t channeling. Everyone else is already manifesting something. And I’m just…waiting.”

I gently brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “Violence, you’ll get there. You’re one of the strongest people I know. Tairn’s probably just waiting for the right moment.”

Her lips twitched into a weak smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Quinn and Imogen said some cadets…just explode when their signet finally backlashes at them. I don’t want to be one of them.”

I couldn’t help it—I laughed softly, the sound low in my throat. “That hasn’t happened in over a decade. And even then, it was one time. That kid tried to wield magic he couldn’t handle. You won’t be that kid.”

She huffed, resting her head against my shoulder. “Easy for you to say, you already have your signet.”

I kissed her hair, breathing in her familiar scent. “I’ll be with you every step of the way. You won’t explode. And if you do, I’ll pick up the pieces.”

She giggled quietly, and the sound settled something deep in my chest. But then, that flicker of jealousy twisted through me again, sharp and unexpected, tightening my jaw.

“So, Garrick was in your room,” I murmured, my voice low, trying not to let it sound too much like an accusation but failing miserably.

Violet pulled back slightly, confusion flashing in her eyes. “He just needed to talk,” she said softly.

I raised an eyebrow. “Needed to talk? In your room?” My arms tightened slightly around her waist, possessive instinct burning in my veins.

Her lips twitched in amusement. “You’re jealous,” she teased, tilting her head as she studied me.

I let out a rough breath, rolling my eyes but not denying it. “I’m just saying, if he’s sneaking into your room at night, I deserve to know why.”

She giggled again, her eyes shining with a mixture of exasperation and fondness. “He was upset. About Imogen.”

That snapped me out of my brooding. “Imogen?”

“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “He’s in love with her.”

I blinked, incredulous. “Garrick? With Imogen?”

Violet nodded, her expression softening. “He didn’t know who else to talk to. He’s been in love with her for a long time, and he keeps messing it up. He doesn’t know how to tell her.”

A surprised laugh burst from me, but it died when I caught the seriousness in Violet’s gaze. “He never told me,” I said, stunned.

Violet’s lips curved in a mischievous smile. “Maybe Garrick just trusts me more.”

I scowled, my possessive side bristling again. “Maybe he just knows I’d tell him to stop being a coward and just fuck her already.”

Violet laughed, the sound lighting up the room. “It’s not that simple,” she said, shaking her head.

I quirked a brow. “Why not?”

Her face softened, her voice barely above a whisper. “Because he loves her, Xaden. And he’s scared of ruining it.”

I sighed, scrubbing a hand over my face. “Gods, Garrick’s an idiot,” I muttered, but the tight knot of jealousy in my chest finally eased.

I leaned in, brushing my lips over hers, needing the reassurance of her closeness. “But I’m glad he came to you. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t still going to kill him if he sneaks into your room again, though,” I added, only half joking.

Violet’s laugh echoed softly in the quiet, her hands tracing up my chest as she pulled me closer. “You’re ridiculous,” she whispered against my lips.

“Only for you, Violence,” I murmured, before pressing her down onto the mattress, the weight of my body settling over hers as my mouth claimed hers in a slow, desperate kiss.

Chapter Text

Violet

I stood stiffly in formation, shoulder brushing against Rhiannon’s as the sharp morning air bit into my skin. The death roll had just been read, and though it was a familiar ritual, my mind was already racing ahead.

Professor Devera stepped forward, her voice slicing cleanly through the murmurs that had begun. “As part of your continuing education in strategy and tactics,” she announced, her sharp gaze sweeping over us, “you’ll be divided into groups to analyze a past battle.”

I barely suppressed a groan. Group work always meant navigating both the material and the social minefields of the quadrant.

“The best analyses,” she continued, her voice cool and even, “will earn an invitation to King Tauris’s birthday celebration in Calldyr.”

The courtyard erupted with murmurs, riders exchanging looks of surprise and excitement. My stomach twisted. Calldyr. The thought of returning there made my skin crawl. I hadn’t been back since my mother’s stationing there—since I’d spent far too long playing the perfect daughter while pretending not to notice Halden’s attentions. My pulse quickened at the memory, but I forced it down. That wasn’t a story I was ready to tell. Not even to myself.

Still, there was something to gain here. Calldyr was the heart of the kingdom, a place where secrets whispered between allies and enemies alike. If I played this right, maybe I could learn something… useful.

“Calldyr,” Rhiannon whispered, her voice a blend of awe and trepidation.

“Yeah,” I murmured, keeping my voice low, my thoughts already spiraling into calculations. Could I use this? Would Xaden and I be able to turn this to our advantage? My gaze, almost instinctively, flicked across the courtyard to him. His face was unreadable, but the faint, familiar pulse of his shadows around him told me he was thinking the same thing—always one step ahead.

Liam, standing just behind me, leaned in with a soft grin. “Guess we better impress, then.”

I tried for a smile, but my heart was already braced against the weight of what Calldyr might bring. This wasn’t just about strategy—it was about survival, secrets, and playing a dangerous game I hadn’t fully realized I was already a part of.

***

I barely kept from letting out a sigh of relief as Devera began announcing the groupings for the battle analysis. My heartbeat thrummed, low and steady but full of nerves. When she called my name first, my stomach clenched. But then—

“Cadet Sorrengail. Cadet Aetos. Cadet Mairi. Cadet Gamlyn. Cadet Henrick. Cadet Matthias. Wingleader Riorson.”

I felt my breath leave me in a quiet exhale. Xaden. My shoulders relaxed slightly. At least with him nearby, we stood a fighting chance at not only surviving this assignment but maybe even coming out on top. Still, the thought of spending three days holed up in a group with Dain had my stomach twisting all over again.

“Perfect,” Ridoc muttered under his breath as he sidled closer. “Guess we’re the lucky ones, huh?”

I offered him a faint smile. Rhiannon caught my eye and gave me a quick thumbs up, her silent promise of solidarity making me feel just a bit less alone in the sea of riders shifting and murmuring around us.

Xaden’s gaze met mine from across the room, his lips curling in the faintest of smirks. It wasn’t the mocking one he’d worn in the past, but something softer, something just for me. My chest ached at the sight of it.

Devera’s voice rang out again, sharp and crisp. “You’ll have three days to complete your analysis and prepare your presentation. Make use of the archives, the strategium, whatever resources you need. The best team will be rewarded with an invitation to King Tauris’s birthday celebration in Calldyr.”

My pulse skipped, the memory of Calldyr darkening my thoughts. I pushed it down, straightened my spine. This was just another challenge, another thing to survive. And this time, I wasn’t alone.

“Let’s not screw this up,” Liam murmured, stepping in beside me as we all began to move out.

“Agreed,” I said, my voice steady. But as we headed toward the strategium, I couldn’t help but glance back at Xaden. His eyes were already on me, steady and sure. Whatever came next, I knew we’d face it together.

Xaden

I would’ve preferred a quiet corner of the archives, or even the mess hall, but here we were—holed up in Aetos’s room, because of course he had a private space, complete with a real table and chairs. The kind of setup you earned as a second-year. I could have offered my room, but I’d let Tairn incinerate me before I invited Dain into my space. Violet hadn’t even been in there, and she was the only one I wanted in my space, in every sense of the word.

So I sat stiffly against the wall, watching as everyone settled in. Rhiannon took a spot by the window, Ridoc sprawled out half-across a chair, joking as usual. Liam had his head bent over a map, quiet and focused. Violet and Aetos shared a corner of the table, her silver-tipped hair catching the light and making my breath catch every time she tucked it behind her ear.

I tried—gods, I tried—to focus on the discussion. But then Aetos brushed against Violet’s arm as he leaned over to point something out on the map, his gaze lingering on her mouth just a little too long. A white-hot surge of possessiveness roared through me, shadows flickering at the edges of my vision. I gripped the table’s edge until my knuckles whitened, breathing slow through my nose, fighting the urge to stand and haul him away from her.

Focus, Riorson. You’ll have your time later.

Ridoc cracked a joke about the flyers and a certain commander’s appalling battle tactics, making everyone snicker, breaking the tense focus that had settled over us. I forced a tight smile, even as my gaze locked onto Violet’s. She looked at me from across the table, her lips curved in a way that made my pulse stutter. The challenge in her eyes was unmistakable, the kind that made me want to kiss her senseless and make sure everyone knew exactly who she belonged to.

But I held back. For now.

We started laying out a structure for the analysis, tossing around ideas and strategies, and slowly the group found its rhythm. Still, the thought of Calldyr hovered at the back of my mind, gnawing at me. The king’s birthday celebration. The last place I wanted to be. Not with the memories, not with the politics, and least of all with Dain-fucking-Aetos sitting at the same table, playing at being the golden boy while sneaking glances at Violet like she was his to claim.

At least if we won, Violet would be there. At least I’d have her close, even if it was in the lion’s den.

I shifted in my seat, forcing myself to focus as Ridoc teased Liam about his obsession with his sister’s potential signet. Across the table, Violet’s laughter mingled with Rhiannon’s, and for a fleeting second, the weight in my chest eased.

But it wasn’t enough to drown out the simmering frustration, the boiling need to rip Aetos’s hands away from her. I clenched my jaw, shadows curling at my fingertips. Calldyr couldn’t come soon enough. And after we survived that mess? I planned to make sure there wasn’t a single doubt left in anyone’s mind—especially Dain’s—about who Violet truly belonged to.

We stayed coiled around the table, the battle map sprawled between us, as Dain’s overly formal tone grated on my nerves. “It’s a straightforward maneuver,” he was saying, pointing at the map with a smug expression. “If we cut off their supply lines here, we force them to split their forces—”

I scoffed, leaning back in my chair. “And leave ourselves open for an ambush. Brilliant.”

Dain’s head snapped toward me, irritation sparking in his eyes. “It’s a tactical decision. You’d rather charge in blindly?”

“If it gets results, yes,” I shot back, lips curving into a smirk. “But I wouldn’t expect you to understand that. You like things... safe.”

Violet’s foot connected sharply with my shin under the table, her narrowed eyes daring me to keep pushing. “Stop being an ass,” she hissed.

I bit back a grin. Gods, she was adorable when she was pissed. Unable to resist the pull, I reached out through the bond, skimming my mind along the silvery thread tethering us together. I let my voice slip into her thoughts, smooth and teasing. I” haven’t even started being an ass.”

Her head jerked up, eyes snapping to mine with wide-eyed shock, her surprise painting her features. I couldn’t help the low chuckle rumbling in my chest, even though I kept my expression neutral for the others. “ Gods, with that hilarious look on your face, I should’ve tried that sooner.”

She glared daggers at me, flustered and annoyed, and I had to fight the urge to laugh out loud. She clearly had no idea how to answer back, her frustration rippling down the bond.

“Can’t figure out how to talk back, can you?” I taunted playfully, letting the amusement hum in my mind like a melody only she could hear.

Her cheeks flushed, and she kicked me again under the table, though it wasn’t nearly as sharp this time.

“I need a break,” Ridoc said, pushing back his chair with a dramatic sigh, stretching his arms over his head. “I can’t listen to another word of you two arguing.”

Dain pinched the bridge of his nose, his exasperation clear. “We’ll reconvene in an hour. Try not to kill each other in the meantime.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I murmured, eyes flicking to Violet, a slow smile spreading across my lips as I imagined all the ways I could tease her until she figured out how to push back.

We slipped through the corridors like shadows, barely dodging a few wandering cadets before making it to her room. As soon as the door clicked shut behind us, I spun her around, pressing her back to the wall and crashing my mouth to hers. Her lips parted under mine, soft and inviting, but before I could deepen the kiss, she shoved at my chest, breathless.

“How the hell did you do that?” she demanded, eyes blazing, cheeks flushed.

I grinned, my chest heaving. “What? Whispering in your head?”

She nodded, still catching her breath.

I leaned in, letting my lips brush her ear. “Close your eyes. Focus on Tairn and Andarna.”

Her breath hitched, but she did as I asked, her lashes lowering. “Okay... I see them.”

“There should be a sliver of something else. Something just between us.”

Her brow furrowed for a second, then her lips parted slightly. “I see it,” she whispered, her voice awed.

“Good,” I murmured, nipping at her jaw. “Now, do the same thing you do when you talk to Tairn.”

A beat passed, and then her voice sounded softly in my mind, You’re such an ass.

I chuckled darkly, drawing back just enough to catch her smirk. Only for you, Violence.

Her laughter rang between us, sweet and bright, and then I was kissing her again, slower this time but no less intense. Our lips slid together, her hands threading into my hair, tugging me closer.

“We can’t,” she murmured against my lips, though her hips rolled against mine. “We have to be back soon.”

I trailed kisses down her throat, feeling her pulse flutter beneath my lips. “We have an hour,” I murmured, my voice low and rough. “I can make you come at least three times before we have to go.”

Her eyes darkened, lips curving into a mischievous smile as her hand slid down my chest, slipping beneath my waistband to wrap around me. “Better get started then, Riorson.”

Her fingers curled tighter around me, stroking with just the right pressure, her smirk pressed against my mouth. I groaned into the kiss, my hands slipping under her shirt, feeling the heat of her skin, the softness of her curves.

“Fuck, Violence,” I murmured against her lips, my voice hoarse as her grip tightened. “You’re going to kill me.”

“Not until I’m done with you,” she whispered back, breathless, her tongue tracing the seam of my lips.

I couldn’t take it anymore. With a growl, I grabbed her thighs, hauling her up against me, her laughter soft and breathless in my ear. I stumbled toward the bed, barely making it before we collapsed onto the mattress, her legs wrapped around my waist.

I kissed my way down her body, peeling off her clothes as I went, my lips trailing over every inch of skin I could reach. Her moans were soft, needy, and when I spread her thighs and dipped my tongue between them, she cried out, her hands fisting in the sheets.

“Gods, Xaden,” she gasped, her hips rocking against my mouth.

I ate her like I was starving, tasting her, teasing her, pulling every sound I could from her lips. When she finally shattered, her back arching off the bed, I didn’t stop. I kept her riding that high until her body trembled beneath me.

“Shit,” she panted, breathless, her hands tugging at my hair.

I grinned up at her, but before I could tease her, she flipped us over, straddling me, her knees on either side of my hips. My breath left me in a rush as she sank down onto my cock, her heat gripping me like a vice.

“Fuck,” I groaned, my hands flying to her hips, holding her steady as she started to move.

She rode me hard, her pace fast and unforgiving, and I was helpless beneath her, lost in the feel of her, the sight of her flushed face and parted lips.

“You’re mine,” I ground out, thrusting up to meet her, my control slipping with every stroke.

“Yours,” she gasped, her nails digging into my chest.

She came again, her body shaking, and I flipped us over, driving into her with deep, hard thrusts. Our bodies moved together, rough and desperate, and I lost myself in her, in the way she clung to me, whispered my name like a prayer.

“Xaden,” she moaned, her walls tightening around me.

“Come for me again,” I growled, my hand slipping between us to circle her clit.

Her body clenched, and she shattered beneath me, her cry muffled by my mouth as I kissed her hard, swallowing every sound. I followed her over the edge, my release tearing through me, my shadows writhing and sparking around us as we fell together.

I collapsed against her, braced on my forearms, our breaths mingling, her legs still wrapped around me.

“Fuck,” I panted, pressing a kiss to her temple.

She laughed softly, breathless, her hand smoothing over my back.

“I told you,” I murmured against her skin, my voice low and ragged. “Three times before we had to go.”

She grinned up at me, flushed and radiant. “Showoff.”

I chuckled, kissing her again, slow and sweet, savoring the taste of her lips, the feel of her body still tangled with mine.

We lay there in a tangled mess of limbs and flushed skin, our bodies slick with sweat and the haze of release. Her cheek was pressed to my chest, her breath warm and even against my skin, while I traced lazy circles over her back. The camp outside might as well not exist. For these stolen minutes, it was just us, wrapped in each other.

I tilted my head down, pressing a lingering kiss to her temple. “Violence,” I murmured softly, my voice barely above a whisper. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

Her lips curled against my skin in a sleepy smile, her hand moving idly across my chest, tracing the lines of my muscles. “Well, you’d go out happy,” she teased, her voice thick with satisfaction.

I chuckled, the sound low and rumbling in my chest. “Happy’s one word for it. Wrecked is another.”

She giggled quietly, and the sound settled something deep in my chest. Gods, I never wanted this to end. I pulled her closer, her body fitting against mine perfectly. The world outside could wait a little longer.

But then she shifted slightly, her thigh brushing against me, and I groaned as I felt my cock stir back to life, pressing hard against her skin.

“Violence,” I warned, my voice breaking with need.

She smiled against my neck, her breath teasing the sensitive skin there. “I know,” she murmured, and then she started kissing a path down my chest, her tongue tracing a lazy, hot line over my stomach.

Her hand slid down, wrapping around me again, her touch slow and teasing. I sucked in a sharp breath, my hips jerking slightly.

She looked up at me with a wicked glint in her eyes. “We’ve got time,” she whispered, her voice thick with heat. “And since I got mine three times, it’s only fair you get yours.”

Before I could protest, her mouth closed over me, her tongue swirling expertly, her lips slick and warm. My hand flew to her hair, tangling in the soft strands as I fought the instinct to thrust deeper.

“Gods, you’re going to kill me,” I groaned, my head tipping back against the pillows as I tried to control myself.

She hummed around me, sending vibrations through my entire body.

“Don’t hold back,” she murmured, pulling back just enough to speak, her voice low and wicked. “I can take it.”

That was all it took for my control to snap. I thrust into her mouth, my grip tightening in her hair, my hips rolling in desperate, frantic motions. Her throat welcomed me, her moans muffled but deliciously audible.

“Fuck, Vi,” I gasped, the heat coiling low in my belly, my shadows twitching and lashing out around us. “You’re perfect—just like that—fuck, yes—”

When I came, it was with a groan that was barely stifled by the blanket we’d pulled over our heads, my release flooding her mouth as she took it all. My shadows rippled with the force of it, lashing out against the bedposts and walls in a show of raw, uncontrolled power.

She swallowed, her lips glistening as she looked up at me with flushed cheeks and dark, smoldering eyes. I pulled her up, crashing my mouth against hers in a desperate, messy kiss, tasting myself on her lips and not caring in the slightest.

“Gods, you’re incredible,” I murmured against her mouth.

Her laugh was soft and sweet, her breath warm against my cheek. “You’re not so bad yourself, Wingleader,” she teased, her voice laced with satisfaction.

We lay there for a few more minutes, our bodies pressed close, her head on my chest, my hand tangled in her hair. I could feel the steady thrum of her heartbeat against mine, our breathing slowly returning to normal.

“I really hate the idea of getting dressed,” she murmured against my skin, her fingers tracing lazy patterns along my hip.

“Me too,” I admitted, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “But if we don’t, Ridoc’s going to come looking for us and make some smartass comment.”

Reluctantly, we untangled ourselves, stealing kisses and lingering touches as we gathered our clothes. We dressed slowly, teasing each other with sly smiles and light caresses that made it almost impossible to finish.

“I’m not done with you,” I murmured against her lips, stealing one last kiss before we had to face the world again.

“I’d be disappointed if you were,” she whispered back, her eyes sparkling with mischief and promise.

Chapter Text

Violet

The early morning air was crisp against my cheeks as I made my way across the flight field, Liam walking steadily beside me. His presence was steady and comforting, a quiet counter to the nervous flutter in my chest. Around us, the field buzzed softly with riders preparing for the long flight ahead.

Ahead, Xaden stood with Dain, their heads bent together, murmuring in low tones about flight routes and formations. My heart gave an unexpected little lurch at the sight of him.

Good morning, Wingleader, I thought toward him, slipping into his mind through the bond. Planning how to bore us all to death on this flight?

His head snapped up immediately, his dark eyes finding mine across the field. A slow smile curved his mouth, the one that always made my knees feel like they might give out. Good morning, Violence, he replied, his voice like silk in my mind. You look beautiful this morning.

Heat crept up my neck, coloring my cheeks, and I quickly dropped my gaze to the ground, pretending to adjust the straps on my flight harness.

As the group gathered—Liam, Ridoc, Sawyer, Rhiannon, Dain, and of course Xaden—I felt the hum of anticipation vibrate through us. Xaden stepped up, his tone brisk but calm. “Stay close. We’re looking at a fifteen-hour flight to Calldyr. It’s going to be long, so pace yourselves.”

We moved toward the dragons, where Tairn and Sgaeyl waited a little farther from the others, their massive forms looming in the morning light.

“I’m still coming!” Andarna protested in my head, her voice a mix of frustration and stubbornness.

You’re not. Tairn’s deep rumble echoed with finality. You’re too small to keep up. Don’t make me repeat myself, hatchling.

I sighed, the weight of it sinking into me. “I’m sorry, Andarna,” I murmured softly, glancing toward her small, shimmering form. “Next time.”

She let out a little huff and settled down in the grass, her wings twitching in protest.

Before we mounted, Xaden strode over to where Tairn and Sgaeyl stood, giving a short nod. “Wings,” he said simply.

Tairn grumbled under his breath, Don’t make me do this every time, boy, but spread his massive wings out wide, Sgaeyl following suit with a sharp, elegant snap.

The sudden shield of wing membranes cloaked us from the rest of the world, a private cocoon. I barely had time to process it before Xaden’s arms wrapped around me, pulling me in close. His mouth claimed mine in a kiss so slow and deep I felt my knees threaten to give out. His tongue tangled with mine, the world around us disappearing entirely.

He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against mine, his voice low and rough. “Fly safe, Violence.”

I smiled up at him, breathless. “You too, Wingleader. And try not to be such an ass.”

He chuckled, his fingers trailing lightly over my cheek before he stepped back. We both turned toward our dragons, the protective wings folding back as Tairn and Sgaeyl shifted impatiently.

I mounted Tairn, settling into place, feeling his power beneath me like a living pulse. Across the field, Xaden climbed onto Sgaeyl’s back, his gaze flicking toward me with a look that made my stomach flip.

The sky was waiting. And for the first time in a long time, it didn’t feel as daunting.

***

The world around me was a blur of sky and cloud, Tairn’s powerful wings beating steadily against the endless stretch of blue. I’d been riding for hours, my legs and back aching with a deep, pulsing pain that radiated from my spine all the way to my fingertips. My muscles screamed with every shift of my weight, but I gritted my teeth and forced myself to hold steady.

“You’re slumping,” Tairn rumbled in my head, his voice as steady and implacable as always. “Adjust or you’ll make me look bad.”

I tried to sit straighter, but the sharp lance of pain through my back made me wince. “I’m trying, you overgrown lizard,” I muttered, feeling the bite of exhaustion clawing at me.

“Don’t talk back to me, Silver one.” His tone was fond beneath the usual gruffness.

I pressed my forehead against Tairn’s neck for a brief moment, my breath ragged. Then, out of nowhere, Xaden’s voice murmured in my mind, low and smooth. “Violence, you’re pushing too hard. Let Tairn hold you steady if you need to.”

I glanced toward him, spotting Sgaeyl’s massive wings beating just a few yards away. Xaden was astride her, his gaze locked on me with that infuriating mix of concern and control. “I’m fine,” I shot back through the bond, but even I could hear the lie in my tone.

“You’re not,” he countered, his voice a soft caress against the raw edges of my thoughts. “When we land in Calldyr, I’ll make sure you’re taken care of. I’ll have a bath drawn for you, rub out every knot, kiss every ache away…” His voice dipped lower, darker. “Whatever you need, Violence. Just hold on until we’re there.”

Heat flushed through me, distracting me from the ache in my muscles. “You’re supposed to be focusing on the flight,” I teased, my voice threading into his mind with a smile I couldn’t hide. “Not on getting me naked the second we land.”

“Oh, I can multitask,” he replied smoothly, a hint of a grin lacing his words. “But if you keep talking like that, Violence, I might just have to pull you onto Sgaeyl’s back right now.”

I let out a soft laugh despite the pain, shaking my head. “You’re incorrigible.”

“You love it,” he murmured back, his tone rich with amusement and something warmer that made my chest ache in the best way.

Tairn gave a low rumble that echoed through my bones. “You two are insufferable. Perhaps the Venin will take pity on us and pick you both off.”

Sgaeyl’s laughter shimmered across the bond, cool and teasing. “I wouldn’t let them, Tairn. I’d kill them all before they touched either of you.”

A bubble of warmth expanded in my chest, even as the ache in my body threatened to drag me down.” I’ll be fine,” I whispered to Xaden, closing my eyes briefly against the glare of the sun. “I just have to make it there.”

“You’re not alone,” he replied softly, his voice threading through the bond like silk. “I’ve got you, Violence. Always.”

I bit my lip to keep from smiling too widely, the exhaustion easing for a fleeting moment as I imagined what it would be like to be wrapped in his arms, away from the biting wind and the pressure of the flight.

“When we get there,” I sent, my tone dipping into something teasing and warm, “I might just have to take you up on that offer. A bath. Your hands. Maybe more…”

His groan echoed through the bond, a dark, needy sound that made my stomach flip. “You’re going to be the death of me, Violence.”

Promise? I teased, my laughter light despite the pain.

“Always,” he sent back, his voice low and filled with something that stole my breath even more than the wind.

And for a moment, despite the cold, the exhaustion, and the relentless ache in my body, I felt like I could hold on a little longer.

Chapter Text

Chapter 36

Xaden

The white marble of Calldyr Castle gleamed like a beacon as we arced above the coast, its gold accents catching the fading sunlight and scattering it across the sky. Towers of glass and stone jutted into the clouds, the castle standing proud against the rolling waves of the sea. It was a fortress, a declaration of power—but to me, it looked like a gilded cage.

Sgaeyl’s wings cut through the air with ease as we descended, circling the towering structure before landing in the massive courtyard below. The thrum of her wings settling echoed against the marble walls as her talons clicked against the stone.

Don’t let them get too close to you, Sgaeyl rumbled darkly through the bond. I’ll melt the skin off of anyone who tries. Even the king himself.

I smirked, running a hand over her scales as I dismounted. I’ll keep that in mind. But you might want to save your fire for when they really piss me off.

She huffed in amusement, but her claws flexed into the stone, her eyes sharp and watchful.

I turned to find Violet still astride Tairn, her face pale and pinched with pain. My heart twisted. She tried to slide down his leg, but the moment her feet touched the ground, her knees buckled. I caught her easily, wrapping an arm around her waist and steadying her before she could collapse.

“You’re supposed to be dismounting, not falling,” I said softly, forcing a teasing lilt into my voice. But she barely managed a strained smile, her body trembling against mine.

Violence, I murmured in my mind, concern lacing my thoughts. Let me take care of you.

Before I could lean in and press a kiss to her temple—forgetting for a moment that we were surrounded—Dain’s voice cut through the air like a blade. “I’ve got her,” he said, stepping forward, his hand already reaching for her.

I stiffened, my jaw tightening. “I think it’s obvious that I have her,” I snapped, not even trying to mask the threat in my voice.

Dain’s eyes narrowed, and for a heartbeat, I imagined throwing him straight into the marble wall behind us.

“I’m fine,” Violet interjected, her voice quiet but firm. She wriggled out of my hold, her body swaying slightly before she caught herself. “I’ve got myself.”

But the second she took a step, her legs gave out again. This time, Dain was there to catch her, his hands gripping her arms with practiced ease.

I felt my blood boil, every muscle in my body coiling as I ground my teeth together. I’m going to kill him, I hissed through the bond.

Violet’s soft laughter echoed in my mind, a balm against my rage. Calm down, Xaden. Dain just wants to help.

I’ll help him right off a sword, I shot back, my lips curling into a smirk.

She let out a small snort of laughter that turned a few heads. I couldn’t help the grin that tugged at my mouth.

Together, our group ascended the grand marble steps, the sheer size of the staircase designed to remind us all of the power we were approaching. At the top, waiting for us, stood General Sorrengail, her sharp gaze raking over each of us. Colonel Aetos was at her side, his expression impassive as always.

But it was the figure standing between them who drew all attention. King Tauri himself, draped in resplendent gold-trimmed robes, his crown glinting in the setting sun. Beside him stood General Melgren and a smattering of courtiers, their eyes sharp and calculating.

My grip on my composure tightened. This was the last place I wanted to be. But as I felt the warmth of Violet’s presence just steps ahead, her stubborn strength pushing her forward despite the pain, I knew exactly why I’d come.

And it had nothing to do with kings or power.

I ground my teeth together, my jaw tight as King Tauri’s honeyed words filled the air. “Welcome to Calldyr,” he said, his voice smooth as polished glass. “My home is your home during this celebration. I trust you will find everything to your satisfaction.”

The king’s gaze swept over us, but it wasn’t warmth or genuine hospitality that filled his expression. It was calculation. Control. Every word he uttered was laced with an unspoken warning—remember where you stand.

My eyes flicked to General Sorrengail, standing rigid at the king’s side, her face an impenetrable mask. When her gaze passed over Violet, there wasn’t a flicker of maternal affection, not even a hint of pride. Just cold dismissal. My fists clenched at my sides, shadows prickling against my skin. She didn’t deserve this.

Colonel Aetos caught my eye then, his gaze like ice. His lips pressed into a thin line, his features tightening as he took in my posture, my presence, the silent claim I’d made with every step I’d taken next to Violet. I couldn’t stop the smirk that twisted my lips.

His face turned an unnatural shade of purple, and I looked away, satisfaction humming low in my chest. Petty? Maybe. Worth it? Absolutely.

King Tauri continued, his voice carrying through the courtyard. “You’ll be shown to your rooms in the guest wing. Dinner will be served informally tonight, just for you cadets,” he said, his smile tight. “Tomorrow, the celebration begins in earnest. The ball will commence at four in the afternoon. Formal wear, of course.”

I barely resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Formal wear? Pretending to bow and scrape in front of a man who had likely ordered the deaths of so many? My stomach churned with the weight of it. But as my gaze flicked back to Violet, to the determination set in her features despite her obvious pain, I knew I’d endure it all. For her.

King Tauri inclined his head slightly. “Dismissed. Until tomorrow.”

The group shifted, murmurs breaking out as courtiers and guards moved to guide us toward the guest wing. I stood for a moment longer, my fists clenched in my pockets, my shoulders tight. Then, with a glance at Violet—her pale face, the stubborn line of her jaw—I fell into step beside her.

“Stay close,” I murmured low enough only she could hear.

She gave me a small nod, her lips barely tilting upward. And as the crowd swept us toward the massive marble archways leading into the castle, I vowed silently to myself that whatever this celebration held, whatever games the king intended to play… I’d be ready.

For her. Always.

The halls of Calldyr gleamed under the flickering light of the sconces as we were herded toward the guest wing. I trailed close behind Violet, watching the stiff set of her shoulders, the way her pace faltered every few steps. She was struggling. Pain, exhaustion, and sheer will were the only things keeping her upright. It took every ounce of control not to scoop her into my arms and carry her the rest of the way. But with the king’s courtiers flanking us, I couldn’t afford to show that kind of vulnerability.

I pressed into the bond, my shadows humming as I slipped a whisper into her mind. “ I’m sneaking into your room tonight. You promised me a bath, remember?”

Her step faltered just enough for me to notice. A blush bloomed across her cheeks as she glanced over her shoulder, catching my eye for a fleeting second before replying silently. “ You’re insane. We’ll have to be even more careful here than we are at Basgiath.”

I smirked. “ I know. But I’m still coming.”

“Oh, you will.”  Now, I was the one who stumbled. Her laughter echoed in my head as we were led through the castle. 

“Don’t try me you menace.” I growled through the bond. Violence, indeed.

And then the godsdamned universe proved it hated me because, of course, Dain was assigned the room next to Violet’s. My jaw tightened, shadows flickering at the edges of my vision. I was already imagining ways to break the door between their rooms—just in case.

Violet must have felt my simmering rage through the bond because she shot me a teasing glance, her lips quirking as she murmured into my head, “Stop brooding, Riorson. You’ll be the only one I let in the bathtub with me.”

I grinned, my pulse pounding at her words. “ I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

In my mind, a soft caress unfurled from her—a gentle touch along the bond that made me ache with the need to touch her skin, to feel her in my arms. But I wouldn’t. Not yet.

Courtiers gestured toward the doors, their smiles brittle and fake. My fists clenched, but I held my tongue, shooting Dain a glare sharp enough to draw blood.

Violet stepped inside her room with a nod to me, and I lingered just long enough to hear Ridoc’s loud voice from further down the hall.

“Hey, Vi,” he called, making Violet laugh softly as she turned. “Don’t forget to save us some bubbles in that fancy tub of yours!”

Rhiannon grinned as she chimed in, “Maybe she’ll invite me in there too for some practice!”

Sawyer snorted. “You all are going to get yourselves thrown out of Calldyr before we even get to dinner.”

Their laughter followed Violet as she disappeared into her room, her head shaking and a smile playing on her lips.

I swallowed hard and turned away, stalking down the hall toward my own quarters. My shadows coiled tighter with every step, and I could feel the pull of the bond between us, like a thread tugging me back to her. But I slipped into my room, slammed the door behind me, and forced myself to wait.

For now.

***

I slipped silently into Violet’s room, shadows curling at my feet, as though they were trying to keep me hidden. The door clicked softly behind me, and I let out a slow breath. The room was dark except for the moonlight spilling through the massive floor-to-ceiling window, turning the ocean beyond into a shimmering silver expanse.

Violet stood by the tub, her hair down, cascading over her shoulders like a river of moonlight. She wore only a thin robe, and her eyes met mine as I stepped closer, shadows peeling away like a second skin. “You took your time,” she whispered, but her voice was soft, teasing.

I smirked. “Had to make sure the corridor was clear. Can’t have your babysitter reporting me.”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile was genuine, and gods, it did something to me—something I couldn’t put into words. I crossed the space between us, brushing a knuckle along her jaw. “Let’s get you in that bath, Violence.”

With a quiet laugh, she let the robe slip from her shoulders, revealing bruises along her ribs and down her side. My jaw clenched, but I said nothing. Instead, I helped her into the oversized tub, steam rising from the warm water. She sighed as she sank in, her head tipping back, her silver hair fanning out around her.

I quickly stripped out of my clothes and joined her, sitting behind her on the wide ledge, pulling her gently between my legs. Her back pressed against my chest, the water sloshing softly around us. Outside, the ocean glittered under the moonlight, the rhythmic sound of waves a quiet background to our breathing.

For a long moment, we just sat there, my hands tracing slow, soothing circles on her shoulders, her arms. Then she spoke, her voice small and raw. “I think… I think my mom stopped seeing me the day Brennan died.”

I froze, my hands stilling.

Violet drew a shaky breath. “When he died—when we thought he died—she just… she stopped. Talking to me, seeing me. She was always tough, but after my dad died, she wasn’t even there anymore. Not really. It was like I was… invisible.”

The words were barely a whisper, but they sliced into me like a blade. I wrapped my arms around her tighter, my lips brushing her damp temple. “You’re not invisible to me,” I said quietly. “Not then, not now. Not ever.”

She let out a shuddering breath, her body softening against mine. I held her there, letting the silence wrap around us like a second skin. “I’m so damn proud of you, Violet,” I murmured. “For surviving all of it. For being… you.”

Her fingers found mine under the water, threading through them. “Thank you,” she whispered.

I kissed her temple again, then her cheek. The moment stretched, the ocean reflecting the moonlight into the room, painting us in silver and shadow.

“Stay here with me?” she asked softly, turning just enough to catch my gaze.

“Always,” I promised, and I meant it.

I shifted slightly, cradling her closer, my hands gentle as they smoothed over her skin. I massaged the tension from her shoulders, down her back, over the bruises I couldn’t erase but could at least ease for a little while. She relaxed against me, her breaths evening out, and I let my lips trail along the curve of her neck, pressing slow kisses there, savoring the quiet intimacy.

Gods, I love you so much , I thought—but the words stayed locked in my chest, not quite ready to be spoken aloud. Instead, I let my actions speak, every touch, every kiss, every breath a silent vow.

For a while, the rest of the world fell away, leaving only the sound of the waves, the warmth of the water, and the steady beat of her heart against mine.

Violet

I woke up to an empty bed, the cool sheets beside me stark against the lingering warmth where Xaden had been. I blinked, stretching slowly, every muscle sore in a delicious way, but a twinge of disappointment rippled through me.

The sun was barely rising, casting a soft golden glow through the heavy curtains. I sat up, pulling the blanket tighter around me as I reached for the bond. “ Where are you?”

“Out.” His voice was a familiar rumble in my mind, tinged with amusement. “ Don’t miss me too much.”

I scowled, though he couldn’t see it. “ I already do.”

There was a beat of silence, then a chuckle that sent a shiver down my spine. “ I’ll make it up to you tonight.”

“You better,” I shot back, feeling a flush rise to my cheeks. “ What are you planning?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” His tone dripped with playful challenge. “ What will you be wearing tonight?”

I glanced down at my sleep shirt and shook my head, smiling despite myself. “ You’ll have to wait and see. It’s a surprise.”

“You’re torturing me, Violence,” he groaned through the bond, his voice dark and delicious in my head.

“That’s the plan,” I teased, warmth pooling low in my belly at the thought of tonight. “ I’ll see you at breakfast.”

“Try not to miss me too much until then,” he added with a mental smirk, and I rolled my eyes, laughing softly.

I threw off the covers, rising from the bed with a lingering stretch. My hair was a mess from sleep and last night’s activities, but as I stood at the mirror, I twisted it into a loose braid and coiled it into a coronet around my head. The image staring back at me looked less like the broken, fragile girl I’d been months ago, and more like the woman I was becoming—strong, determined, and utterly ready to face whatever the day might bring.

As I stepped out into the corridor, braids coiled into a coronet and heart still light from the bond’s lingering echo of Xaden’s voice, I nearly collided with Dain. His door clicked shut behind him, his expression a mix of tension and uncertainty.

“Morning,” I said softly.

“Morning,” he echoed, falling into step beside me as we made our way toward the dining hall.

An awkward silence stretched between us, thick with everything unspoken—the weight of our history, our fractures, and the truths that had come to light. Finally, Dain stopped in the middle of the hallway, his shoulders tense.

“I—” He drew a breath, his voice low, almost raw. “I need to apologize, Violet. For everything. For not believing you. For not believing in you. For trying to...take your memories without your permission.”

The vulnerability in his tone caught me off guard. My chest tightened, a swirl of hurt and confusion rising to the surface.

“It hurt,” I admitted quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. “That you didn’t believe me when everyone else did. We were friends our whole lives, Dain. I trusted you.”

“I know,” he said, his shoulders sagging. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve trusted you. I’m sorry. I want to make it up to you...if you’ll let me.”

I hesitated, searching his face, and then nodded slowly. “I will,” I said.

A breath of relief escaped him. “Thank you. Can I—can I hug you?”

I hesitated for a beat longer, then nodded again. His embrace was tentative, and for a fleeting moment, it felt like we were kids again, before the lies and the war and the betrayals.

As we started walking again, the conversation lightened, memories from our childhood when our parents were stationed here tumbling free. We laughed over a particularly ridiculous memory of trying to steal pastries from the kitchen, our laughter echoing softly down the hall.

But when we stepped into the dining hall, the warmth in my chest cooled as my eyes found Xaden already seated, his gaze dark and focused squarely on Dain.

“What the fuck is so funny?” Xaden’s voice rasped through the bond, rough with jealousy.

I smothered a smile. “ Don’t be jealous.”

“I’ll scoop Aetos’s eyes out if he doesn’t stop looking at you like that, ” Xaden growled, his voice sending a shiver down my spine.

“Stop,” I chided gently. “ He apologized.”

“Doesn’t mean I won’t kill him,” he muttered, his glare unwavering.

Before I could respond, the heavy doors at the side of the hall opened, and General Sorrengail and Colonel Aetos swept in, their presence commanding. My gaze darted to my mother, my stomach tightening in instinctive hope, but her gaze slid over me as if I were invisible.

I inhaled sharply, steeling myself against the familiar ache. I took a seat beside Rhiannon and Liam, trying to focus on the meal ahead, trying not to notice the absence of my mother’s recognition, or Xaden’s lethal glare boring into Dain from across the table.

Let’s just get through this, I thought, forcing a smile as the conversation around me resumed.

The breakfast table was thick with tension, despite the gleam of polished silverware and the quiet clink of plates. I sat between Rhiannon and Ridoc, who—being Ridoc—was doing his best to lift the mood by cracking jokes about dragon training and what he’d do if Tairn ever let him ride.

“I’d have the biggest flight lines in the quadrant,” Ridoc muttered, tracing imaginary lines over his cheeks. “They’d call me Ridocean the Magnificent. Bet on it.”

I smiled faintly, grateful for his effort, but my stomach twisted with nerves. Rhiannon gave my hand a reassuring squeeze under the table. Across from me, Dain sat stiffly, barely touching his food, and to his right, his father—Colonel Aetos—watched the table with a commanding presence.

Colonel Aetos’s sharp gaze landed on me, and to my surprise, he offered a tight smile. “At ease. You’re looking well, Violet. Nice flight lines,” he said, gesturing to the faint lines gracing his own cheekbones, proof of his countless hours in the sky. “You must be getting a lot of airtime.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said, sitting straighter. “I am.”

His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, but there was something almost... human about the way he nodded. “Mira asked about you while we were touring the Southern Wing last month. Don’t worry, you’ll get your letter privileges in second year, and then you can keep in touch more often. I’m sure you miss her.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Every day,” I said quietly.

There was a pause, heavy and expectant, and then—

“I hear you’re having trouble wielding,” my mother’s voice cut in, smooth and icy as always.

“I have the best shields in my year.” For the first time, I was actually glad I hadn’t manifested a signet yet—no reason to give her something to criticize, no new weapon for her disappointment.

“With a dragon like Tairn, I would certainly hope so.” My mother’s eyebrow arched, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “If not, all of that incredible, enviable power will have been…” She sighed, her breath puffing a cloud of frost into the air. “Squandered.”

The knot in my throat tightened. “Yes, General.”

Her eyes skimmed over the top of my head, settling on the silver-tipped braid she’d always told me marked me as cursed. “You have been the topic of some conversation, though,” she said.

“Oh?” My voice was faint, uncertain. She actually talked about me?

“We’re all wondering what powers—if any—you’re wielding from the golden dragon?” Her lips formed what might’ve passed for a gentle smile to anyone who didn’t know her—but I knew better.

“You’re doing fine,” Xaden’s voice whispered into my mind through the bond, steady and quiet, wrapping around my racing thoughts. “ Don’t let her get to you, Violence. She’s wrong.”

“ No .” The single word from Tairn rumbled through my body, a warning both silent and powerful.” Do not speak of it.”

“Nothing yet,” I said aloud, dragging my tongue over my chapped lower lip.The dining room was quiet, tension clinging to every nerve in my body. “Andarna told me that feathertails are known for being unable to channel power to their rider. It’s why they don’t bond often.”

“Or ever,” Colonel Aetos chimed in.

“We were actually hoping you might ask your dragon to allow us to study her,” he continued. “For purely academic purposes, of course .”

My stomach soured. I could imagine the group of them poking and prodding Andarna, treating her like some rare specimen instead of the living, breathing creature she was. “ Don’t you dare,” Xaden murmured, the possessive edge in his voice making my pulse calm just a little.

“Unfortunately, I don’t see her being comfortable with that,” I said, forcing a polite smile. “She’s pretty private, even with me.”

“Pity,” Colonel Aetos said. “We’ve had the scribes on it since Threshing, and the only reference they can find in the Archives about the power of feathertails is hundreds of years old. Which is funny, because I remember your father doing a bit of research about the second Krovlan uprising, and he mentioned something about feathertails, but we can’t seem to find that tome.” He scratched his forehead thoughtfully.

Mom’s eyes snapped to mine, her gaze hardening with expectation.

“I don’t believe he finished his research on that particular historical event before he died, Colonel Aetos,” I said, my voice carefully even. “I couldn’t even tell you where his notes are.” The words were true enough—except I knew exactly where those notes were. But Tairn’s silent warning held me back.

“Too bad.” My mother forced another smile that felt more like a blade against my skin. “Glad to see you’re alive, Cadet Sorrengail.”

Then, just as I let out a shaky breath of relief, her gaze flicked sideways, hardening to steel. “Even if the company you’re forced to keep is more than questionable.”

My pulse jumped, dread pooling low in my stomach.

You’re stronger than she’ll ever admit, Xaden murmured again, his voice like a warm hand brushing over my racing thoughts. I’ve got you. You’re not alone.

I sat a little straighter, forcing my breathing to slow. “Yes, General,” I said softly, and despite the chill in her tone, I let myself find strength in the connection between me and Xaden. The weight of her judgment wasn’t as heavy when I could feel his support threading through me like steel.