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I’d protested your right of benefaction
“Good thing you’re not the head of my den, then, isn’t it?”
Being able to raise the wards won’t mean anything if he isn’t safe—at
“You figured out how to raise the wards.”
The art of imbuing comes naturally to only a handful of signets, and automatically only to one: the siphon.
“Second signets only happen when a dragon bonds a rider in the direct familial line as its previous,”
“But there’s an equal chance of it causing madness. From what Thoirt told me, that’s why Cruth wasn’t punished for bonding Quinn. She’s only the great-niece of her previous rider. Her signet’s more powerful but not entirely different.”
“What’s your second signet?”
“You told me that Sgaeyl was bonded to your grandfather, which makes you a direct descendant. If a dragon bonds a family member, it can strengthen a signet, but a direct descendant will either produce a second signet…or madness, and you seem pretty sane to me.”
I just can’t figure out why Sgaeyl was allowed to choose you, how she got away with it. How you both did.”
“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.”
Oh shit. What if he’s like Cat? What if he’s been manipulating my emotions this whole time?
“I would never do something like that,” he retorts, sending a sideways, wounded glare at me as he continues to watch the sky. “Shit.” I rub my hands over my face. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” He doesn’t respond.
“Signets have to do with who we are at our core and what we need,”
“You are a master of secrets, hence the shadows.”
“You need to question everyone to make your own impressions. You need to be a quick judge of character in order to know who to trust and who not to in order to have run those smuggling missions at Basgiath for years. More than anything, you need control. It’s woven into every aspect of your personality.”
“I deserve better than this. Tell me the truth.” “You’ve always deserved better than me. And no one knows,” he repeats, his voice dropping. “Because if they did, I’d be dead.”
Xaden’s most pressing need is information.
“I’m a type of inntinnsic,”
“I can read intentions.
“Less than a minute,” Xaden whispers as Sgaeyl moves toward him—toward us. “That’s how long it took for you to fall out of love with me.”
“We will settle matters of emotion after matters of life.”
“Do not speak to her as if death is a possibility,”
“If you decide to tell them what I am as punishment for the crimes I’ve committed against you, I’ll understand.”
“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.”
I am a person who needs information to center myself.”
“Perhaps I will be the eldest of my own den.”
opaque instead of golden—before
turning venin heightens one of the dark wielder’s senses.
one responsible for the death of King Grethwild developed keener eyesight.
“I love you. The world does not exist for me beyond you.”
“It’s my mother.” A slow smile spreads across my face. “It’s her way of imbuing her favorite weapon.” Me.
pull lightning from the sky so quickly that I no longer feel like I direct the storm. I am the storm.
“I’m buying her the time she needs,” Xaden answers, and my stomach sinks. “And they won’t attack. Not yet. They’re still waiting.” “What the fuck for?” Melgren snaps. Xaden’s hand tightens around mine. “Me.”
“Right, except this stone was actually on fire when we got here,” I tell him, lifting my hand to the black iron. “Iron doesn’t catch fire,” Brennan argues. “Tell that to the wardstone,” I counter.
The second I saw you after Resson, I knew something was different about the sheen of your scales,
“Different.”
“That’s exactly how I’ve always felt.”
“It’s why you were allowed to bond. Gods, you told me yourself, but I thought you were just being…” “An adolescent?”
should have listened when you said you were the head of your own den. That’s why no one could fight your Right of Benefaction last year. Why the Empyrean allowed a juvenile to bond.” “Say it. Don’t just guess,”
“Your scales aren’t really black.”
“No.”
“But he is, and I so badly want to be just like him.”
“He doesn’t know. Only the elders do.”
“They revere him. He is strong, and loyal, and fierce.”
“If you didn’t figure it out, you weren’t worthy of knowing.” She huffs. “I waited six hundred and fifty years to hatch. Waited until your eighteenth summer, when I heard our elders talk of the weakling daughter of their general, the girl forecasted to become the head of the scribes, and I knew. You would have the mind of a scribe and the heart of a rider. You would be mine.” She leans into my hand. “You are as unique as I am. We want the same things.” “You couldn’t have known I would be a rider.” “And yet, here we are.”
“You are not a black dragon, or any of the six that we know of. You’re a seventh breed.”
I need to ask if you are willing to breathe fire for the stone.”
“It is why I was left behind.”
“At least from what I remember. It has been centuries.”
