Iron Flame (The Empyrean, #2)

by Rebecca Yarros

“You of all people know the lengths I’ll go to in order to protect her. And since I’m pretty sure you’re the reason we’re getting reports of dragons dropping wyvern carcasses at every outpost we have along our border, the reason this college is emptying itself of most of the leadership in a rush to contain the problem, the least you can do is give me a chance to say goodbye to her.” “You what?” My gaze swings to Xaden’s, but he keeps his locked on my mother. “Would have done it sooner, but it took a couple of days to hunt them down and kill them,” Xaden replies to her. “You’ve threatened our entire kingdom.” Her eyes narrow. “Good. You allowed her to be tortured for days. I don’t give a shit whether it was by your absence or your negligence. It happened on your watch.” “Three minutes,” she orders. “Now.” “Three minutes,” I agree. Xaden’s gaze flies to mine. “She’s a fucking monster.” His voice is soft, but it carries. “She’s my mother.” He looks like he might fight me for a second, but then he slowly lowers me to stand and braces me against the wall. “Three minutes,” he whispers. “And I’ll be at the top of this staircase.” That warning is given to my mother as he starts up the steps with Garrick leading the way. “Aetos, did you decide to follow?” “Apparently,” Dain says, waiting a few steps beneath me. “Then fucking follow,” Xaden orders.

“I might be a stranger to you, Violet, but you are far from a stranger to me. Eventually, you’d discover the truth. Maybe not while in the Scribe Quadrant, but certainly by the time you made captain or major, when Markham would start bringing you into the fold, as we do with most at those ranks, and then you would unravel everything in the name of mercy or whatever emotion you’d blame, and they would kill you for it. I’d already lost one child keeping our borders safe, and I wasn’t willing to lose another. Why did you think I forced you into the Riders Quadrant?” “Because you think less of the scribes,” I answer. “Bullshit. The love of my life was a scribe.” Steadily, we climb, twisting along the staircase. “I put you into the Riders Quadrant so you’d have a shot at surviving, and then I called in the favor Riorson owed me for putting the marked ones into the quadrant.”

It all clicks into place. That night at the tree last year when he should have killed me for catching the meeting of the marked ones. The challenge where he had every opportunity to exact his revenge on my mother by ending me—and instructed me instead. Nearly intervening at Threshing… My ribs feel like they’re cracking all over again. He’s never had a choice when it came to me. His life—the lives of those he holds dearest—has always been tied to mine. And suddenly, I have to know. “Are those your knife marks on his back?” “Yes.” Her tone is bland. “It’s a Tyrrish cust—” “Stop talking.” I don’t want to hear a single explanation for such an unforgivable act. But of course she doesn’t listen. “It seems that by putting you into the Riders Quadrant, all I did was hasten our own end,” she remarks as we climb the last four steps, coming out in the tunnel by the Archives. Xaden reaches for me, and my mother’s arm falls away. “I trust you’ll use the chaos to get her out?” she asks him, but we both know it’s an order. “Planning on it.” He tucks me in against his side.

“Regret letting me into the quadrant yet?” He keeps his voice deceptively calm, but there are shadows rising along the tunnel walls. “No.” Her gaze drops to me. “Stay alive, or this all will have been for nothing.” She skims the backs of her fingers along my swollen face. “I’d tell you to take arnica and see a healer, but you already know that. Your father made sure you’d know everything you needed or where to find it. You’re all that’s left of him, you know.” But I’m not. Mira has his laugh, his warmth, and Brennan… She doesn’t know about Brennan, and in this moment, I have no regrets about keeping that secret. The smile she gives me is tight and so full of sadness that I wonder if I’m hallucinating. It falls as quickly as it appeared, and she turns away from us, headed back to the stairwell that will carry her up to the main campus. “Oh, and Violet,” she calls back over her shoulder. “Sorrengails walk or fly off the battlefield, but they’re never carried.” Unbelievable. I watch until she disappears up the stairwell. “No wonder you’re so warm and fuzzy, Violet,” Garrick mutters. “We’re leaving,” Xaden announces. “Gather the marked ones and meet us at the flight field—” “No.” I shake my head. Xaden looks at me like I’ve sprouted a few more limbs. “We just talked about this. We can’t stay here, and I won’t leave you.” “Not just the marked ones,” I clarify. “If Markham is gone and most of the leadership is flying for the border, then it’s our only chance.” “To leave?” Xaden ...

“What has the Empyrean decided?” We aren’t the only ones making choices tonight. “It will be up to the individual dragon. They will not interfere, nor will they punish those who choose to leave and take their clutches and hatchlings with them.” It’s better than the alternative, which was full-scale slaughter of the dragons choosing to fight. “Are you really okay?” I ask him again. The bond between us feels strange, like he’s holding back more than usual. “I lost Solas in a network of caves while I was hunting him, so I was unable to kill him and Varrish myself for their actions. When I do find him, I will prolong his suffering before death.” I understand the feeling. “And Andarna?” “Being made ready for flight. We’ll pick her up on our way out.” He hesitates. “Prepare yourself. She still sleeps.” Knots of apprehension twist in my stomach. “What is wrong? What aren’t you telling me?” “The elders have never seen an adolescent remain in the Dreamless Sleep this long.” My heart plummets.

A corner of Xaden’s mouth rises. “You are all riders!” he shouts. “All chosen, all threshed, all responsible for what happens next. Act like it! What Aetos has told you is the truth. Whether or not you choose to believe is up to you. If your dragon has chosen not to share what some have seen, then your choice has been made for you.” Wingbeats fill the air, and a murmur rises among the formation. I lock eyes with Rhi where she stands at the head of our squad. She nods subtly toward the rotunda. I glance that way and catch a trio of figures in cream, led by Jesinia, all carrying packs. Thank gods, they came. Now I just need three dragons willing to carry them. “Already taken care of,” Tairn promises. “And only this once.” This once is all we need to save their lives. “Wars do not wait for your readiness,” Xaden continues, “and make no mistake about it—we are at war. A war in which we are outmatched not only in strength of signet but air superiority as a whole.” “Is this your idea of a pep talk?” “If they need to be roused, they shouldn’t be coming with us.” Fair point.

“You taught us well, Professor,” Bodhi says, holding his hand in place. “Maybe a little too well.” Damn. “He can counter signets,” Xaden tells me. Well, that’s fucking terrifying. The rest of the professors look upward as dragons fill the skyline, their wings flaring on approach. Green. Orange. Red. Brown. Blue. I look up, spotting Tairn’s rapid descent. Black. Xaden grabs my waist as the walls shake under the weight of the mass landing. Claws dig in, shredding the masonry as dozens of dragons—maybe more—perch on every available space. Some fill the mountainside behind us, and others claim the top of the turrets in the quadrant, hovering like living sculptures. “We won’t stop you,” Devera says to Xaden, then shifts to where her own dragon perches beside the parapet. “In fact, some of us have been waiting to join you.” “Really?” Bodhi grins. “Who do you think left the news about Zolya all over Battle Brief?” She nods. A smile lifts my mouth. She’s exactly who I’ve always thought she is. “We’re leaving within the hour,” Xaden calls out. “Your choice is as simple as it is personal. You can defend Navarre, or you can fight for the Continent.”

His head tilts as the sound of the wind approaches a dull roar, and I follow his line of sight as the massive riot approaches the town, en route to the valley. “What have you two done?” “Ask your sister,” Xaden responds. Brennan looks down at me, his eyes wide with shock and a touch of fear. “I mean…” I try to force a smile, but it only splits my lip yet again. “You did say that you needed riders.”

For all that he says he isn’t soft, isn’t kind, he’s also the only man I know whose back is covered in promises made for other people. Even if his reasoning was preparing for this war we’re about to wage, he still risked his own life by vouching for them. He risked his life to free me. Dain and I never would have made it out of there alive without him. Alive. I’m alive. And that’s exactly how I want to feel. I lean forward and press my lips to his warm skin, kissing the scar closest to me, wishing I could undo the damage my mother did to him.

“I’d suggest you call a formation and divide them into equal wings, for starters,” Xaden suggests, his tone dripping with boredom. “Though they may prefer to stay intact. From what I’ve seen, Fourth Wing has the largest numbers.” “Because you were their wingleader,” Brennan states. “They were used to following you.” “And Aetos,” Xaden replies begrudgingly. “He’s the one who called the formation after killing the vice commandant.” “Aetos is another matter.” Battle-Ax runs her finger over the flat side of her weapon like it’s habit. “He’s confined to quarters until we can ascertain his loyalty, as are the scribes.”

“I also brought you four professors, and it’s not like you’re without your share of knowledge,” Xaden replies. “I’ve already questioned the scribes. They can be trusted, and Cath vouches for Aetos. As for the other cadets, I suggest you get them back into class.” Something…shimmers, curling around the Archives I keep in my head. “Violet.” Her soft voice rattles me to my very core, and I grasp Xaden’s arm to stay upright. Relief, joy, wonder—it all weakens my knees and stings my eyes. For the first time in months, I feel whole. A smile spreads across my face. “Andarna.”

Andarna’s head whips back toward mine and her eyes narrow. “I am not broken.” My heart sinks. “I never said you were,” I whisper. Shit, shit, shit. I hurt her feelings. “Speech isn’t necessary when I can hear your thoughts. I am no more broken than you are.” Her lip curls and her teeth flash. Ouch. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t what I meant to imply.” The thought is barely a whisper. “Enough.” Tairn lowers his head to her level. “She is allowed to be concerned for you, as you are for her. Now go eat before hunger overpowers common sense.”

“You cannot mend what does not exist.”

“What she herself has not recognized.” He lowers his head, his great golden eyes locking with mine. “She’ll fly, but she’ll never bear a rider.”

“An alliance my father made that I officially denied last year. The chest is priceless. If he wants you to destroy it with lightning, then this is more a statement about me and less about you.” “Why am I not surprised?” My hands crush the delicate silk of my gown as I put the pieces of a sickening puzzle together. “Would that alliance have anything to do with Cat?” The hesitation I feel along our bond answers before he does. “Yes.” “That information would have been valuable before arriving.” To say the fucking least. No wonder she despises me. I’m not self-centered enough to think I’m the reason he called off whatever alliance they had, but I’m definitely a barrier to resuming it now. Her uncle wants me to blow up the very symbol of whatever it is they’d agreed upon. “Still fighting. Got it.”

“The Arctile Ocean to the south is known for calm, warm waters and what were once lucrative trade routes,” I recite, calming my racing heart. “You still do that?” Mira lifts her brows at me. “Only when I’m—” The double doors of the chest burst open, sending both guards sprawling across the ground with startling force as a man jolts forward and falls to his hands and knees on the grass. His maroon tunic and trousers are tattered, like he’s been kept prisoner for weeks. “What the fuck?” Mira mutters. His head jerks up to look at us, and my heart seizes with pure, immovable terror. Distended red veins branch out from bloodshot eyes. “Violet!” Xaden roars. Venin.

“It’s you,” the dark wielder says over the growing noise of the storm. “The one who commands the sky.” His eyes widen in eerie excitement. “Oh, how I’ll be rewarded when I return with you.” “And here I was thinking I was the only Sorrengail with a reputation beyond the border.” Mira takes a fighting stance, keeping only inches between us. “By your Sage?” I ask him, tracking his movements as rain falls in sheets. Shit, I can’t chance throwing my dagger. If I miss, I’m defenseless, and it’s not just me on this field. “I need daggers.” “Which Sage? I promise, you’ll wish—” he starts, raising his arms. “For death?” I interrupt. “Already heard it. I killed that messenger, too.” But I wasn’t in a cumbersome ball gown. This thing is a fucking liability. “Behind you,” Xaden says. I glance back and see two alloy-hilted daggers embedded in the ground five feet away. “Mira!” She follows my line of sight and is already moving when I flip my dagger to its tip and flick my wrist, throwing for the dark wielder’s throat. The dagger sinks into his side.

“You’re lucky you’re not dead,” I say up at Tecarus’s blotchy face. “If you’d put Xaden in that kind of danger, I’m not sure I would have been as merciful.” “You call this mercy?” Tecarus asks through gasped breaths, still kicking for the ground. “Yes,” Xaden says softly.

Xaden crouches down. “If you ever want to have words about why I severed that alliance, then you come for me. Violet is beyond your reach. If you so much as look her direction with anything but the utmost kindness and respect, I’ll kill you without a second thought and let Syrena take her place as your heir. Do you understand me?” His voice has that icy softness that sends chills up my spine. Tecarus nods. “Apologize.” “I’m fine.” He’s taking this too far. This man is second in line to the Poromish throne. “You do not take punishments designed for me.” “You have my most sincere apology, Violet Sorrengail,” Tecarus croaks through abused vocal cords. “Now where does this leave us, Riorson?” Xaden stands. “Now we negotiate.”

“Then let’s discuss. What do you want in exchange for us leaving with the luminary today? Weapons?” Brennan asks. “Because that’s what we’re offering. The luminary is useless here, but we’ll put it to use supplying your drifts with the weapons they need for the venin you can’t capture.” Hopefully the details of how they managed to catch that one are in the book. “Weapons are a good start,” Tecarus agrees with a nod, his gaze sliding to Cat. “And you take the hundred flier cadets I’ve given shelter to after their academy was destroyed back to Aretia with the luminary.” I’m sorry…what the fuck? “And what would you like us to do with your cadets?” Xaden asks, tilting his head slightly. “Gryphons don’t fare well at altitude.” “They’ve never been given the chance to adjust,” Tecarus argues. “And I want you to educate them just as I assume you are doing with the rider cadets. Keep them safe, teach them to work together, and we might have a chance of surviving this war. We’ve seen riderless wyvern patrolling the skies, no doubt reporting what they see instantly to their creators, in the last few weeks. Our reports say they’ve ventured as far west as Draithus. It won’t help the fliers to stay safe here in the south—not when they want to fight. And who better to teach the fliers how to kill wyvern than dragon riders?” Train with gryphon fliers? Take Cat back to Aretia? I would rather face down a dozen venin. Unarmed. Without Tairn or Andarna. “There’s no way to fly them into Tyrren...

No rider will respect a cadet who hasn’t crossed the parapet.” He gestures at the trail behind him. “Behold a parapet for them to cross.” “It’s narrow, but it’s not that narrow!” Ridoc calls out, earning a few scoffs of agreement from the riders around us.

“Look at how beautiful you are, Violet, coming for me on Tyrrendor’s throne.”

I need to fuck her, to flip her over the arm of this throne and drive into her, but I can’t. I need her nail marks in the wood, need her cries filling this whole fucking house, need her knowing what I can be for her—anything and everything she needs. She’s heaven in my mouth. Flawless. Mine. And she’s almost there. Gods, yes, her legs are shaking, her walls are fluttering around my tongue. I love her so fucking much. I shatter, splintering into a million glittering shards of bliss as I scream out his name. Power and light course through me without burning, and I arch again and again, coming apart at the seams of what I think is me but might be him.

“I felt how much you need me.” I shift forward to the edge of the chair—throne—whatever. “You want me over the side of the throne, right? Grasping onto the arm so my nails scar it.” “Fuck.” The table groans under his grip. “I should not have done that.” “Oh, you definitely should have. It was quite possibly the hottest moment of my entire life. You ever want to bring me to my knees or win an argument? That’s a sure bet.” A tight smile curves his mouth at the reference to his words from last year. My toes touch the dais. “You gave me what I fantasize about—” “Please don’t.” The words are forced through gritted teeth. It’s the “please” that stops me in my tracks. “I’m hanging by a thread, so I’m begging you. Please. Don’t.” He hangs his head, and shadows slip across the dais, pushing my clothes toward me. Confused is an understatement, but I stand up and quickly get my clothes back on down to my socks, then pick up my boots. “Do you want to clue me in on why you’re keen on torturing yourself?” He exhales just a shade short of a sigh. “Because I need you to see I’m more than capable of worshipping your body without reciprocation. You’re not a convenient placeholder for me to fuck.” This is about Cat? “I know that.” So much for the afterglow of the world’s longest orgasm. I’m right back to pissed. “But you don’t.” He releases his death grip on the table and points at the throne.

The sight eases some of the tension in my chest. No one would ever believe that scary, badass Xaden Riorson would tie anyone’s shoes. “I thought you were going to kill her,” he says quietly. Right. Back to Cat. “I almost did.” I lower one foot, then raise the other at his cue. “Would that have been unforgivable to you?”

“Wait. Are you…are you the king of Tyrrendor?” “Fuck, no.” He shakes his head, then pauses. “I mean, yes, technically, I’m the Duke of Aretia by birth, but Lewellen’s on our side and doing just fine at governing the province. Even if Tyrrendor became independent, I’m more useful on the battlefield than on a throne. We’re off topic. I know damn well you don’t feel inferior to me, so who? Cat?” I press my lips between my teeth. “I think I liked you better before you decided that feelings were something we need to discuss.” “Sorry to inconvenience you, but this year the role of Violet Sorrengail”—he points to me—“will be played by Xaden Riorson”—he taps his chest—“who will drag her, kicking and screaming if he has to, into a real relationship with real discussions, because he refuses to lose her again. If I have to evolve, you do, too.”

“I figured she’d find a way to make my life difficult for breaking the agreement, and that would inevitably involve you.” He leans in. “I love you. She will never sit in this seat. She will never wear a Tyrrish crown. She’s never had me on my knees in front of her.” His mouth curves into a wicked grin that makes me instantly ready for it to be tonight. “And I’ve also never fucked her with my tongue.” My lips part and heat stings my cheeks.

“Being in the same squad doesn’t change the fact that it’s still my crown,” she blurts. “Let’s feed her to Sgaeyl,” Rhiannon whispers as we pause. I look at Cat over my shoulder. “Did you know that Tyrrendor hasn’t had a crown in more than six hundred years? Turns out they melted them all down to forge the unification crown, so good luck with that.” “It’s going to be fun making your life as miserable as you’ve made mine.” Oh, fuck civility.

“Oh! And one more thing.” I lower my voice just slightly, well aware of every head within our squad that turns our direction. “What?” she snaps. “That trick you mentioned? You know, with the fingers?” A slow smile spreads across my face. “Thanks.” Cat’s eyes bulge. Imogen laughs so hard she snorts as I walk back to Rhiannon. “Damn. Just…damn.” Rhi claps a few times. “I fucking love you.” Ridoc throws his arm around my shoulders. “Anyone hungry? I woke up somewhere I hadn’t exactly planned on and missed breakfast.” “I would,” I tell him, “but I have plans in the library.” “The library? Then me too,” Sawyer chimes in, following quickly. “I’ll go with,” Rhiannon says with a nod. “If the three of you are going, then so am I,” Ridoc adds. “You guys don’t have to come with me,” I say once we’re halfway through the foyer. “Oh, we needed to get away from Cat.” Ridoc waves me off. “You’re just the excuse.” “Her abilities are…horrifying,” Sawyer concludes. “What if she decides to make me hate you?” “Make Xaden hate you?” Rhiannon’s eyebrows rise. “She can’t.” I shake my head. “Or make you instantly horny for some random flier, and then you’re not the only one in that bed when Xaden rotates back,” Ridoc muses. “Her signet—or whatever they call it—is fucking terrifying.” “She can only amplify the emotions you already have,” I explain to them. “We could kill her.” Sawyer reaches for the door handle. “All the fliers are still struggling with the altitude, and their gryphons are still sl...

“Good idea. I could use a snack.” Andarna’s tone is indecently excited. “We do not eat our allies,” Tairn lectures. “You never let me have any fun.” I crack a genuine smile. “I appreciate the offer.”

“I need your help.” “All right.” He nods without waiting for an explanation. And just like that, I remember why he used to be one of my favorite people on the Continent.

“All I could think was that I’d just survived a year of hearing my friends’ names called on the death roll, and I was going to make damn sure yours wasn’t. And then you hated me for trying to give you what you’d always told me you wanted.” “That’s not why I hated—” I press my lips in a tight line. “You wouldn’t let me grow up, and you were so fucking pigheaded that you knew what was right for me. You were never like that as a kid.”

“Where are your translations for the beginning? Maybe we can compare the symbols.” “I skipped ahead to the ward entries, seeing as that’s what we needed.” He blinks. “You…skipped? You, out of all people, didn’t read a book from start to finish?” The flash of a smile he tries to hide hits me somewhere in the vicinity of my stomach, reminding me of the days when he’d been my best friend, and suddenly this is too much. I scramble to my feet, dust my leathers off, and walk toward the stone. “Vi,” he says quietly, but the cavernous space amplifies it so he may as well be shouting. “We finally going to talk about what happened?” The stone is the same empty cold under my hand as it was the night I failed to raise the wards. “Do you know how to imbue?” I ask, ignoring his question. “Yes.” His sigh feels strong enough to knock the wardstone over, and when I glance over my shoulder, I see him set the journal down on my pack and rise to his feet. Seconds later, he’s standing next to me. “I’m sorry, Violet.”

“Solas found us!”

“Take a breath!” Andarna demands. “Don’t argue!” Not darkness. Wings. It’s her belly at my back and she’s wrapped her wings around us. “Breathe in and hold it!” I shout, then fill my lungs with sulfur-scented air. Heat blasts, roaring past us in a stream that shakes Andarna’s wings, and the temperature soars. I force my eyes closed to keep them from cooking as my skin burns as though we’ve been thrown into an oven. How can she survive this? “She’s fireproof,” Tairn reminds me, but the panic in his voice doesn’t do much to soothe the terror clamping down on my heart.

“I’m fine.” Andarna shakes it off as Solas sizes me up. “Three minutes,” Tairn tells me. “You will not die today!” Three minutes. We can make it three minutes. But time isn’t our issue. Tairn can’t fit through the opening of the cave. He’ll have to find whatever entrance Solas used. “How the fuck do you kill a dragon?” “Let me go!” Cat shouts. “You’re…you’re draining my power!”

“Are my eyes red?” Sloane shakes me, or maybe she’s shaking and simply holding on to me. “Are they red? I swear I didn’t reach, Violet. I didn’t take anything from you on purpose! Oh gods, am I turning venin?” “She is as Naolin was,” Tairn says. “You’re not turning.” I take her hands from my shoulders and stare into the darkness as footsteps sound, talons clicking along the rock. “I’m not?” “Your signet manifested,” I whisper, my eyes straining to see into the cave opening. “You’re a siphon.” Andarna walks into the light, but it’s not the blood covering her mouth that catches my attention—it’s the blood dripping from the poisoned barb on her tail. “You killed him.” My shoulders dip in relief. “You killed Solas.”

“Slayer.”

“For you!” “All I want is you!” He flicks his hands, and shadows shut the door a little harder than necessary, sealing us in behind the sound shield. “If she dies, then I’ll take the consequences. If they can’t channel, I’ll take those consequences, too. But not you. Never you. Gods, Violet. I’m doing everything in my power to both respect your freedom 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.”

“Because I love you!” My voice breaks into a mortifying whisper that’s almost half as embarrassing as the thoughts I can’t keep from spinning in my brain. The thoughts that I’ve fought to hold at bay ever since my mother told me about the deal she made with him. Heat flushes my cheeks as he holds my stare, and frustration curls my hands into fists. “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 year, and now half the time I don’t know what side of that line I’m standing on because I’m too busy looking at you to watch my own feet!” “Because you don’t want yourself to know where your feet are,” he says softly. My mouth snaps shut. How dare he. Someone pounds on the door.

“What’s your second signet?” His eyes widen, and the blood drains from his face as his hand falls away. For the first time, I think I’ve actually managed to shock Xaden Riorson. “I know you have one,” I whisper as the pounding continues. “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.”

“When did it manifest?” I slide my hand up to his neck. “The signet?” “About a month after the shadows did. I’d already seen Carr kill another first-year for reading minds, so when it hit, I held my shit together and went to Sgaeyl, and when Carr asked if I’d had any other strange abilities emerge, since they knew Sgaeyl had bonded one of my relatives, I lied my ass off. And when my ability to control shadows seemed stronger than they’d expected, they had no reason to dig deeper.” A corner of his mouth tilts upward. “It helps that rider of record was thought to be a great uncle, not my grandfather.” “She’s really the only one who knows?” “She’s it. She made me promise not to tell anyone. She thinks anyone who knows will have me killed—or use me as a weapon.” “Shit, isn’t that exactly what I did?” The second we were with Melgren, I’d asked— “No,” he whispers, lifting a hand and brushing the backs of his fingers along my cheek. “You asked me for the good of the mission, but you’d never use it for personal gain.” He leans in, resting his forehead against mine. “Tell me we’re all right. Tell me this didn’t break us.” “Promise you won’t use it on me again.” I hold his gaze and curl my fingers into the fabric of his shirt. “I promise,” he whispers, then kisses me softly. “Now, do you want your presents?” “Presents?” I arch my body up against his. “You lost two of your daggers fighting Solas. I had two new ones made.” A slow smile spreads across his face. “Just have to disarm me,...

“I can make it on my own,” Andarna argues three hours later as cadets scurry into our hasty and unauthorized formation in the center of the valley. “It’s an eighteen-hour flight,” I remind her, checking all the joints of her new harness. Thank gods she’s still only half the size of Sgaeyl now, so Tairn can still carry her. “I respect your decision to come, but this is the only way.” She can only fly for an hour or two before her wing muscle completely cramps. “And you think I should be carried like a juvenile?” She huffs a breath of steam as I walk underneath her and fit my fingers between her scales and the smooth metal that curves under her shoulders. “I think Tairn is capable of bearing your weight. You can fly until you tire or hold back the riot, but wearing a harness for quick clipping in is the only way I’m letting you come. I’m not risking you getting left behind if you fall out of formation.” I tug at the steel just to be sure it doesn’t give like mine did when we flew back to Basgiath last summer. “I get it. You don’t want to be carried. Sometimes I don’t want to fly in a saddle, but it’s what I need in order to ride. It’s your choice. You can come in the harness, or you can stay behind.” “Dragons do not answer to humans.” She bristles, straightening her posture. “No, but they do answer to their elders,” Tairn grunts, his claws flexing in the green grass beside us. “Only to the eldest of our den,” she counters as I walk out from under her, careful not to step on ...

“The wards are still up. We’ve made our presence known to the Empyrean, and I can definitely sense their displeasure, if that’s what you mean.” We cross over the courtyard, and Tail and Claw Sections peel off the formation with Devera in the lead, causing untold damage to the masonry as they land wherever they’ll fit along the walls. “But Greim is in residence, and she’s reaching out to her mate, who is at Samara to contact Codagh.” “At what point will you and Sgaeyl be able to cover distances like that?” We pass the parapet in nothing more than a heartbeat, and then Tairn banks left. “Years. Greim and Maise have been mated for many decades.” He races over the bell tower of the main college of Basgiath, then flares his wings and beats them backward, halting our momentum to the sound of alarmed cries from the watchmen in the four towers, shouting down their warnings.

“There are people down there,” I tell him as he sinks gracefully into the main campus’s courtyard. “They’ll move.” Sure enough, people scurry, scattering out of his way as he lands. “Should you change your mind, I’ll simply claw through the roof to reach you.”

“Mom.” Power crackles, lifting the loose tendrils of my hair as I glance back at the man who helped hold me prisoner. “Really, Violet? You couldn’t use the front door?” She glances at Mira, and then her gaze turns upward as Cath descends. Her face falls, but she holds her posture rigid as ever. “He’s not with us,” Mira says, holding her sword pointed at the captain who’s been working his way out. “In fact, he’s pretty pissed we came.” Mom’s head tilts slightly in a movement I know means she’s talking to Aimsir. “Seems we’ve been fully invaded.” “We’re not here to fight you. We’re here to fight for you,” I tell her.

“Trust me, Mom. The battle you’re expecting isn’t at Samara: it’s here.” I explain my line of thinking in the few minutes it takes for my squadmates to reach us. “Someone is going to take down your wards.” “Not possible, cadet.” She shakes her head as night descends in true around us. “They’re heavily guarded every moment of every day. The biggest threat to the wards would be you.” “Let us check,” Xaden says at my back. “You know your daughters would never strip Navarre of its protection.” “I know exactly who my daughters are. And the answer is no.” Her dismissal is curt. “You’re lucky to be alive crossing enemy airspace. Consider retaining your lives a personal gift.” “I think not.” Mira’s gaze sweeps the courtyard. “This courtyard should be full at this hour with soldiers returning from mess, and yet I only count five soldiers. One captain and four cadets, and no, I’m not counting the healers in the corner. You’ve sent every available body to Samara, haven’t you?” The temperature in the courtyard plummets from freezing to nearly unbreathable. “The guards behind you have signets in mindwork, Mother. In fact, I’d bet money that the most powerful riders on campus are you and…who? Professor Carr?” Mira moves forward fearlessly. “Our forces can render aid or conquer. It’s your choice.” Mom’s nostrils flare as tense seconds pass. “If you won’t take them to the wards,” Dain says from somewhere behind me, “I will. My father showed me where they are last year.” Which is precisely...

“Do you know where the ward chamber opens to the sky?” I ask Tairn as my boots pound the stone floor of the corridor. It has to, if it’s constructed anything like Aretia. “According to you, I cannot supply fire to more than one—” He pauses as though taking stock of my situation. “On my way.” “No!” Mom’s shout sends chills down my spine as she and Mira make it to the chamber ahead of us, both charging left, weapons high. The rest of us reach the chamber, and before I can assess the situation, Xaden’s shadows jerk me off my feet and into his chest as he spins us backward, pressing my spine against the wall of the archway as the points of an orange’s scorpiontail swing through the very place I’d been standing. There’s a fucking dragon in there? “Are you…” His eyes fly wide. “Didn’t get me,” I assure him. He nods, relief shifting his gaze from worried to alert, and we both turn into the entrance, quickly joined by Ridoc, Rhiannon, and Dain. My mouth drops, and power charges through my veins, so potent my hands buzz.

I hear a satisfying cry as Xaden grabs hold of my waist, throwing up a wall of shadow that blocks out the chamber around us but doesn’t shield us from the noise of the stone crashing. Cracking. The humming stops. The wards have fallen.

Holy Dunne, Navarre is defenseless. There’s no seeing over Baide’s body to check on Mira, so I whip my gaze to the right, meeting Rhiannon’s wide eyes where she stands at the front of the archway, protecting Ridoc and my mother. Jack stumbles backward from the blow of my dagger, a dazed but elated look twisting his face as he wrenches it from his shoulder and drops it to the floor. “He only has minutes,” I whisper to Xaden. Barlow has just killed his own dragon. It’s unfathomable. Impossible. And yet Baide is most certainly dead as Jack falls to his knees and laughs up at the sky fifty feet above us. Mira appears, moving silently around Baide’s corpse, and Xaden gives her a subtle shake of his head when she lifts her sword. She keeps it poised for attack but doesn’t continue forward. “You know you’re about to join your dragon, don’t you?” Xaden asks, his voice low as shadows move in riotous swirls at our feet. “What are you doing?” I palm another dagger. “Getting whatever information we can.” The utter calmness of his tone is unnerving. “That’s the thing,” Barlowe says, his blond hair covering his forehead as he falls forward onto a hand. “I’m not. They have us thinking we’re the inferior species, but did you see how easily I controlled her? How easily the energy she bonded us with is replaced?” His eyes slide shut as his fingers splay on the stone. “Jack! Don’t do this!” Nolon storms past Rhiannon, his features slackening when he takes in the destruction around him. “You…...