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and keep you safe, and you’re…” He shakes his head. “I don’t even know what you’re doing.” “Keep me safe.” I laugh, sarcasm biting into my eyes and making them sting. “Is that what you do? I get it all mixed up with just not killing me.” “There it is.” He retreats until his back hits the wall, and then he folds his arms and leans against it, crossing an ankle casually. “You finally ready to ask me about the deal I made with your mother?”
“Because I let you live long enough for us to fall in love,” he says. “Without that deal, gods know what I would have done in my need for revenge. Ask me why I don’t regret it. Ask me about the first time I saw you. Ask me about the moment I almost killed you despite the deal and decided not to. Ask me why. Ask me something! Fight back like you would have done last year before I broke your trust.
before the bands of darkness hold a dagger to within inches of my chin. I gasp, then lock every muscle. “What the fuck, Xaden?” “Am I going to hurt you?” The carpet makes his bootsteps nearly silent as he crosses the room, giving me plenty of time to object or retreat, but I don’t. “I’m going to hurt you if you don’t get that away from me.” I keep my eyes on him. “Would I ever let this knife hurt you?” His boots touch the tips of mine, and he leans into my space. “Of course not.”
“Because I want to think you kept me alive those first few months before Threshing because you were intrigued or impressed by me or attracted to me like I was to you, and not because you made a deal with my mother. Because it’s horrifying to think that the only reason you fell in love with me is because of her. Because maybe you’re right and I didn’t want that particular truth, since I know there’s a thin line between devotion and obsession, between cowardice and self-preservation, and I’m walking it when it comes to you. I love you so fucking much that I ignored every warning signal last
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“How long do you think it takes for someone to fall out of love?” He studies the skyline. “A day? A month? I’m asking because I don’t have any experience with it.” What the fuck? I fold my arms to keep from giving in to the impulse to jab him with the sharp point of my elbow. “I’m asking,” he continues, his throat working as he swallows, “because I think it will take you all of a heartbeat once you know.”
“Yes. It’s how I knew I could trust you not to tell anyone about the meeting under the tree last year,” he says as I retreat another step. “How I seem to know what my opponent has planned on the mat before their next move. How I know exactly what someone needs to hear in order to get them to do what I need done, and how I knew if someone remotely suspected us while we were at Basgiath.”
“I love you,” Xaden says as the wyvern closest to me banks away from the wards, falling into a turning dive, only to gain speed and climb again, leveling out behind the lead two before flying straight for us. “Even if you believe nothing else I ever say, please believe that.” “Do not speak to her as if death is a possibility,”
“Did you ever use your signet to glean information to influence my feelings in any way?” “Never.” He shakes his head, but his hands clench at his sides and the muscle in his jaw pops. “But I have always lacked a certain element of self-control when it comes to you, and our bond makes it way too easy for you to send your intentions without even realizing it.”
Heat flushes up my neck and stings my cheeks, reminding me of the times my scalp would prickle in his presence. “You knew I wanted to kiss you that night by the wall…” Gods, I can’t even finish the question. The tops of the trees begin to sway. They’ve brought dragons. “Yes.” He glances at me. “And you have my most sincere apology. Had I known what we would become”—he shakes his head—“fuck, I probably still would have done it.” “Do you still do it?” I have to know. “No. I stopped the moment you were more to me than the general’s daughter, the moment I realized the harm Dain had done—and that I
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“They’re going to overrun us at Samara,” Melgren interrupts. Everyone quiets. I struggle to draw my next breath. Surely he didn’t mean to say that. I look at Mom, and my knees weaken at the subtle nod she gives me. Even Mira tenses. “I’ve seen it,” Melgren continues. “They come for us on solstice, and they win.”
“Fix your wards.” She pulls a leather notebook from her jacket, and my eyes widen with recognition. “If you don’t, they’ll decline over time to nothing. Your father told me once that his research showed that Warrick never wanted anyone else to hold the power of the wards. He wanted Navarre to eternally hold the upper hand. But Lyra thought the knowledge should be shared.” “Warrick lied,” I whisper. But about what?
“You have the heart of a rider but the mind of a scribe, Violet. I’m trusting you not only to protect yourself, but to protect Mira and”—she swallows hard—“Brennan.”

