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A dragon without its rider is a tragedy. A rider without their dragon is dead.
“Fascinating. You look all frail and breakable, but you’re really a violent little thing, aren’t you?”
You are not attracted to toxic men, I remind myself, and yet, here I am, getting all attracted.
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.”
“I know exactly who and what you are, Violet Sorrengail.”
“She should have killed you in the field, but she’s merciful. That’s not a flaw I possess.”
his gaze shifts to my throat and narrows at what I imagine has to be the purple imprint of a hand. “I should have killed him slower.”
Xaden Riorson is kneeling before me, his black hair at the perfect level for me to run my fingers through the thickness.
Not that I wouldn’t climb the man like a tree if presented with the right set of circumstances.
But in my defense, and in a sick, twisted way, his rescue was pretty damned hot,
“I’d have to be a masochist to sleep with you, and I can assure you, I’m not.” Fantasizing about it doesn’t count.
Xaden’s arm wraps around my waist, steadying me. I hate how his touch elevates my heart rate as we continue the climb, but I don’t protest. I don’t want to be grateful for anything when it comes to him, but man if that minty scent of his isn’t delicious.
He snorts, a flash of a smile appearing for a heartbeat. A real one. Not the fake, forced sneer I’m used to seeing or the cocky little smirk. An honest, heart-stopping smile that I’m anything but immune to.
Just like it always does, my stupid, hormone-driven heart stutters at the first sight of Xaden. Even the most effective poisons come in pretty packages, and Xaden’s exactly that—as beautiful as he is lethal.
Am I out of line speaking to a wingleader that way? Absolutely. Do I care? Not one bit.
AS SHE SHOULD
He freaking smirks, and my traitorous stomach dips.
“Fuck, that stubborn, feisty look always makes me want to kiss you.” Xaden’s expression remains bland, bored even, but his eyes heat as his gaze drops to my mouth. “And you say this now, where people will see if you actually do.” My breath catches. “When did I ever give you the impression that I give a fuck what people think about me?” A corner of his mouth rises, and now it’s all I can concentrate on, damn him. “I only care what they think about you.”
“Should I get the wingleader?” Tairn flat-out laughs in my head.
There’s nowhere in existence you could go that I wouldn’t find you, Violence.”
“I’ve wanted you from the first second I saw you, Violence,” he admits.
“It’s been. My honor.”
LIAMMMMMM <\3
