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A dragon without its rider is a tragedy. A rider without their dragon is dead.
“Stay the hell away from Xaden Riorson.” The air
“That Xaden Riorson,” she confirms, fear lacing her gaze. “He’s a third-year, and he will kill you the second he finds out who you are.”
The third turns in my direction and my heart simply…stops.
He’s the most exquisite man I’ve ever seen. And living in the war college means I’ve seen a lot of men.
Flaming hot. Scorching hot. Gets-you-into-trouble-and-you-like-it level of hot.
Xaden Riorson?
He will kill you the second he finds out who you are.
There’s a fucking smirk on Xaden’s arrogant, handsome face. I’m now entirely at his mercy, a subordinate in his chain of command. He can punish me however he likes for the slightest infraction, even imaginary ones.
“Xaden Riorson wants you dead.
Tanner? I’m pretty sure it’s something that starts with a T.
Ah, that’s right. Tynan.
“I told you already, the youngest Sorrengail is mine, and I’ll handle her when the time is right.”
but my air supply is cut off by an elbow around my neck as I’m yanked against a hard chest. “Scream and you die,” he whispers, and my stomach plummets as the elbow is replaced by the sharp bite of a dagger at my throat.
“Fascinating. You look all frail and breakable, but you’re really a violent little thing, aren’t you?”
But I wouldn’t be surprised. Violets are such delicate…fragile things, you know.” Delicate, my ass. He’d probably think twice about plotting your murder if you threw a few daggers at his head.
“Badass,” Rhiannon says as she moves to my other side. “I thought Jack was going to shit himself.” I smother a smile. “Stop encouraging her,” Dain chastises.
“I’m happy to step in.” That voice. That tone. That prickle of ice along my scalp… Oh no. Hell no. No. No. No.
My stomach hits the floor. And Xaden walks onto the mat.
“Going for blood today, are we, Violence?”
“Don’t trust a single person who faces you on this mat,” he warns in a hiss, his breath warm against the shell of my ear,
You are not attracted to toxic men, I remind myself, and yet, here I am, getting all attracted. I have been since the first second I saw him, if I feel like being honest.
He leads our hands to his waist, his gaze never leaving mine.
Then he guides our hands back to my ribs and slides the ruby-hilted blade back into its sheath. The move is unnervingly…hot.
“Killing you wouldn’t be any trouble, Violence. It’s leaving you alive that seems to cause the majority of my trouble.”
Hope is a fickle, dangerous thing. It steals your focus and aims it toward the possibilities instead of keeping it where it belongs—on the probabilities.”
You want to know why you’re still alive? Because you’re the scale I currently judge myself against every night. Every day I let you live, I get to convince myself that there’s still a part of me that’s a decent person. So if you want to quit, then please, spare me the temptation and fucking quit. But if you want to do something, then do it.”
“What changed between Parapet and now?” Dain asks again, a wealth of emotions in his eyes that I can’t begin to interpret. Well, except the fear. That doesn’t need any interpretation. “Me.”
“You can’t interfere!” Tynan shouts at Xaden, but I don’t dare look away from my opponent long enough to see how the wingleader reacts. “No, but I can narrate,” Xaden retorts.
“My name is Tairneanach, son of Murtcuideam and Fiaclanfuil, descended from the cunning Dubhmadinn line.”
“But I’m not going to assume that you’ll be able to remember that once we reach the field, so Tairn will do until I inevitably have to remind you.”
“Why did you choose me?” I have to know, because as soon as we land, there are going to be questions. “Because you saved her.” Tairn’s head inclines toward the golden as we approach, and she follows after us. Our speed slows.
“You’ll never be alone again.” “That sounds more like a threat than a comfort,”
Her eyes fly wide. “Both dragons?” she squawks. I nod. And all hell breaks loose.
“They’re a mated pair, Tairn and Sgaeyl. The strongest bonded pair in centuries.”
Heat rushes through every vein, wakes every nerve ending. I hate the reaction of my body to the sight of him, but I can’t deny it. His appeal is so fucking inconvenient.
“There is no us,”
“Oh, I think you’ll find that’s no longer the case,”
“You’re freakishly calm for someone who just heard she’s about to be hunted.” “It’s a typical Wednesday for me.” I shrug,
I belong to Tairn and Andarna…and, in some really fucked-up way… Xaden.
A back that has a glistening black relic of a dragon mid-flight stretching from shoulder to shoulder and, in the center, the silhouette of a shimmering golden one.
It was everything I’ve ever wanted…except… Shit. I don’t want it anymore.
My gaze snaps to Xaden, and my chest tightens. So. Freaking. Beautiful. Apparently my body doesn’t care that he’s as dangerous as they come in the quadrant, because heat rushes through my veins, flushing my skin.
“Annoys you?” Tairn chuckles above me, the sound like a chuffing cat. “Is that what you call it when your heart rate—” “Don’t even start with me.”
“She should have killed you in the field, but she’s merciful. That’s not a flaw I possess.”
“Come on, Violence.”
Xaden Riorson is kneeling before me, his black hair at the perfect level for me to run my fingers through the thickness.
This is fine. This is absolutely fine.
“Hardly. I don’t fuck first-years—even when I was one—let alone…you.” “Who said anything about fucking?”
“But you and I are exactly that, Violence. We’re chained. Tethered. You die, I die, so I damn well deserve to know how the hell you were under Seifert’s knife one second and across the room in another.
