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following text has been faithfully transcribed from Navarrian into the modern language by Jesinia Neilwart, Curator of the Scribe Quadrant at Basgiath War College. All events are true, and names have been preserved to honor the courage of those fallen. May their souls be commended to Malek.
“You have a wardstone,” I murmur, my thoughts spinning. They wouldn’t need as many weapons if they had wards. If they could generate their own protection, maybe they could weave extensions into Poromiel, like we’ve expanded our wards to their max. Maybe we could keep at least some of our neighbors safe…
Turns out, falling in love with someone only brings that blissful high all the poets talk about if they love you back. And if they keep secrets that jeopardize everyone and everything you hold dear? Love doesn’t even have the decency to die. It just transforms into abject misery. That’s what this ache in my chest is: misery.
What. The. Fuck? That can’t be… No. Impossible. “Stay calm. She’ll respond to your agitation and wake in a temper,” Tairn warns. I stare at the sleeping dragon—who is almost twice the size she had been a few days ago—and try to get my thoughts to line up with what I’m seeing, what my heart already knows thanks to the bond between us. “That’s…” I shake my head, and my pulse begins to race.
“I can forgive you for keeping me in the dark before today. You did it to save lives, possibly even mine. But it’s complete and total honesty from now on, or…” Gods, am I going to have to say it? Am I really about to issue an ultimatum to Xaden-fucking-Riorson? “Or what?” He leans in, his eyes sharpening. “Or I’ll get busy unfalling for you,” I spit out. Surprise flares in his eyes a second before a corner of his mouth lifts into a smirk. “Good luck with that. I tried it for a good five months. Let me know how it works out for you.”
Here we go. “I have no idea,” Aetos grinds out. “I was directed to take a squad beyond the wards to Athebyne and form the headquarters for Fourth Wing’s War Games, and I did so. We stopped to rest our riot at the nearest lake past the wards, and we were attacked by gryphons.” The lie rolls off his tongue as smoothly as the truth, which is both impressive…and infuriating, because he doesn’t have a single fucking tell. My mother blinks, and Aetos’s thick brows furrow.
“But in case it’s not, every time you think of reaching for her face, I want you to remember one word.” “And what is that?” Dain seethes. “Athebyne.” Xaden pulls back, and the pure menace in his expression sends a shiver along my skin. Dain’s spine stiffens as Colonel Panchek calls the formation to attention.

