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“Always something around here,” Ridoc adds.
“It’s not raining like it was during our Parapet.” Nadine looks up at the cloudless July sky and wipes the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand. “Hopefully more of them make it across.” She glances my way. “You’d have thought your mother would have held off the storm last year, considering you were crossing.”
“Does your father know?” Dain murmurs to Aaric. “It’s none of his business,” he replies, stepping up to the parapet and rolling his shoulders. “I’m twenty.” “Right, because that’s going to make a difference when he realizes what you’re doing,” Dain retorts, ripping his hand through his hair. “He’ll kill us all.” “Are you going to tell him?” Aaric asks.
I glare over my shoulder at him. He’s the reason Liam isn’t here to protect Sloane himself. Rage courses through my veins, heating my skin. “Don’t you dare say another word, or I’ll blast you off this turret, Aetos.” Power crackles through my hands without being called and erupts overhead, streaking across the sky horizontally. Oops.
“Go straight to hell,” she whispers. “And I really mean that. I hope no one commends your soul to Malek. I hope he rejects it. Liam was worth a dozen of your kind, and I hope you spend eternity paying for what you cost me, what you cost all of us.”
He’s dead weight. My lungs fight to expand as I put the last of my strength into shoving him off of me. He’s heavier than an ox, but I manage to push him sideways enough to slide out from under him. Air—beautiful, precious air—fills my chest, and I gasp for it, breathing past the fire in my throat, and stare up at the beams of the ceiling. Pain. My entire body is nothing but pain.
“It’s your room, Violet.” His eyes track the movement of the brush through my hair, and the way his fingers curl in his lap makes me swallow. Hard. “The room is warded to let in whomever you pull through.” He clears his throat and shifts his weight as I finish another pass with the brush. “And selfishly, me.” I fucking love your hair. If you ever want to bring me to my knees or win an argument, just let it down. I’ll get the point.
“It was mine. If Sloane wants to hate anyone, she can aim it all right here.” He taps his chest as he turns, setting his rucksack on the desk. “It wasn’t your fault.” It’s not the first time we’ve had the argument, and something tells me it won’t be the last. I guess there’s enough guilt for two to carry. “It was.” He opens the top and rifles through the bag. “Xaden—”
He turns at the door and looks back at me, holding my gaze. “Third floor, south wing, second door on the right. The wards will let you in.” His barracks room. “Let me guess—warded for sound and to let in you, me, and anyone you tug through?” The idea of him using that soundproofing for breaking armoires with someone else is enough to curdle the soup in my stomach. We might not be together, but jealousy’s not exactly a rational emotion. “No, Violet.” He lifts both swords overhead, then slips them into the sheaths on the pack behind him with practiced expertise and a hint of a smirk. “Just you
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Garrick has always been my best friend. His father was my father’s aide, which in a way makes him my Dain, except trustworthy. After Liam, Bodhi was and still is the closest thing I have to a brother, perpetually tagging along a step behind. —Recovered Correspondence of Lieutenant Xaden Riorson to Cadet Violet Sorrengail
“I think that’s my fault.” “What?” I turn to face her fully. “That rider requested a book yesterday, and I recorded the request.” She leans toward me, panic growing in her eyes. “I have to record the requests. It’s—” “Regulation,” we both finish signing at the same time. I nod. “You didn’t do anything wrong. What was the book?” She glances toward the doors where the rider disappeared. “I should go. Thank you.” It’s only the fear in her eyes that keeps me from asking her again before she rushes off, leaving me staring at the tome in my lap, realizing how dangerous my “research project” really
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“Until you remember exactly how good we are together.” “I never forgot.” It’s a whimper. My body is still humming. “I’m not talking about physically.” He leans in and kisses me softly. It’s sweet. Tender. Everything I don’t want to feel. Not when it comes to him. Heat and lust, I can cope with. But the rest? “Xaden,” I whisper, shaking my head slowly. He studies my face for a heartbeat and masks the flash of disappointment with a half smile.
“I’ll kiss you whenever you want because my self-control is shit where you’re involved—”

