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“My presence would suggest otherwise.” What a dick.
Cadet Violet Sorrengail is hereby given two days of leave once every fourteen days to be used only to fly with Tairn directly to and from Sgaeyl’s current duty station or location. Any other absence from classes will be considered a punishable offense.
“Secrets make for poor leverage. They die with the people who keep them.”
“Good thing we’re not keeping secrets,” Xaden retorts. Aetos’s smile shifts to the softer one I’ve seen all my life, and the transformation is eerie. “Do be careful who you share your war stories with, Violet. I’d hate to see your mother lose either of her daughters.”
“And Mira’s.” If I tell anyone what really happened, he’ll target her, too. Message delivered. Power burns through my veins, seeking an outlet. Anger only fuels the energy that swiftly surges to an overwhelming wave, threatening to rip me apart.
Lightning illuminates the night sky, striking the courtyard about forty feet away. Gravel flies.
It’s the easternmost outpost of the Southern Wing, where the borders of Krovla and Braevick provinces intersect, and a day’s flight away. “They’ll only have hours together every time they make the flight.” “Yeah. She’s pretty pissed.”
“You’ve lost all touch with reality if you think I’m getting close to him right now,” she responds, her voice gritty from sleep. “He’s in a mood.”
“And miss all the drama?”
“Pretty sure that’s precisely the idea. They’ll split us up for as long and as often as possible. We’ll have to make the most of what time we get.”
“I’ll be back in seven days,” he says for the benefit of the people passing by. “Sgaeyl and Tairn won’t be able to talk over the distance. They’ll sense emotions, but that’s it. Remember that leadership will read any missive we send.”
“A lot can happen in seven days.” I understand what he’s telling me mentally. “What am I supposed to do while you’re gone?”
“Don’t involve yourself in anything Bodhi and the others are doing.”
“This isn’t about us. Every eye will be on you, and you don’t have a rebellion relic to hide your actions from Melgren if you’re caught alone. Involving yourself endangers everything we’re working for.”
“You can only fully trust those who were with us at Resson.”
“When it comes to the other marked ones, don’t risk trusting them. Not yet. They know they can’t kill you, but some of them would be happy to see you hurt given who your mother is.”
“With my life,” I whisper. “That’s all?” His mouth hovers above mine, all promise and no delivery. “That’s all.” Trust is earned, and he isn’t even trying
“See you in seven days, Violence.” He backs away, moving toward the tunnel that leads to the flight field. “Try not to burn the place down while I’m gone.”
“Cianna, our executive officer, moved up to being executive officer of the section.” Her smile is brighter than any mage light. “And you’re looking at our new squad leader.”
“I’m still recovering from the last six-day break I had away from here,”
Not after Aetos made it clear not to share my war stories. He’s already targeting Mira—I’m not putting my best friend in that situation, too. Maybe Xaden is right. If I can’t lie, all my friends would be safer if I kept my distance.
“Fewer dragons are bonding,” I say toward Tairn, knowing Andarna drifted into the Dreamless Sleep a few days ago. “Is that because the Empyrean knows about the venin?” “Yes.”
“But we need more riders. Not fewer.” It doesn’t make sense. “The Empyrean remains divided on whether or not we should get involved,” Tairn grumbles. “Humans aren’t the only ones keeping secrets.”
“They’re going to abduct us?” Nadine gasps, fear lacing her tone. “Sounds like it,” Sawyer mutters in response. “Always something around here,” Ridoc adds.
Take it from someone who has survived it: as long as you don’t break during the interrogation portion, you’ll do just fine.”
“And if we break?” she asks. All traces of amusement leave his face. “Don’t.”
But I don’t miss the woman I was, the one who didn’t know her strength. The one who believed everything she read with unfailing confidence, as if the simple act of writing something on a blank page made it gospel.
A slight figure wearing a cream tunic, pants, and hood approaches, and for the first time in my life, I’m nervous to see Jesinia. “Cadet Sorrengail,”
“I heard about…” Her face falls. “I’m sorry. He was always really nice to me.” “Thank you. I really miss him.”
“I was wondering if you had any older books about the founding of Basgiath?
“The wards?”
“I’m prepping a defense for a debate in history about why Basgiath is here, instead of being built in Calldyr.”
The answer to protecting Aretia is in the Archives. It has to be. I just have to find it before not even the wards can save us.
They aren’t the only ones. I’m four steps away from Dain and his memory-stealing hands that could pluck every secret from my head.
The asshole gets Liam and Soleil killed and is promoted as a reward. Go figure.
“Remember the rules. Matthias and Sorrengail, your jobs are only to take the final roll before Parapet. Don’t engage—” “We know the rules.”
Maybe then I can address the three books on the craft of weaving fabric into traditional Tyrrish knots he left for me—strips of fabric included—on the desk of my new room on the second-year floor. It’s not like I need a hobby.
The one that read I meant what I said on the parapet. Even when I’m not with you, there’s only you.
“Varrish? Nothing besides the fact that he’s a complete hard-ass who thinks the quadrant has gone soft in the years since he graduated,” Dain answers. “He’s friends with my father.”
the next in line, trying to forget how Barlowe put me into the infirmary last year. I shiver at the memory of the way he forced pure energy into me through his hands that day on the mat, rattling my bones.
He’s taller than Dain but shorter than Xaden, with a muscular build and strong chin, and though his sandy-brown hair is shorter than the last time I saw him, I’d recognize those features, those eyes, anywhere. “Cam?”
“Aaric…Graycastle.” His middle name I recognize, but the last?
I’ve seen in every single one of his brothers and especially his father. Even if I didn’t recognize him from the dozens of times our parents’ lives have tossed us into the same room, those startling green eyes mark him the same way my hair does me.
I glance over at Dain, who openly stares at Cam—Aaric.
“Between us?” I whisper, and she looks over at me with an arched brow. “King Tauri’s third son.”
“Pretty much. And I can guarantee his father doesn’t know what he’s doing.” Not with how he felt after Aaric’s older brother died during his Threshing three years ago.
“Sloane Mairi.”
I promised Liam I’d watch out for her. “Stop.” I jump off the wall, then yank out the small leather band I keep in the front pocket of my uniform and hand it to her. “Tie your hair back first. Braid is best.”
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.”
“Don’t let the wind sway your steps.” They were Mira’s words, and now they’re mine. “Keep your eyes on the stones ahead of you and don’t look down. If the pack slips, ditch it. Better you lose it than your life.”
