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“He isn’t a soulless venin. He’s still Xaden. My Xaden,”
Xaden is mine. My heart, my soul, my everything.
“Dying today would be inconvenient,”
“And yet yours miraculously carry the burden of your ego.”
“I could reach the rank of Maven, lead armies of dark wielders against everyone we care for, and watch every vein in my body turn red as I channel all the power in the Continent, and I would still love you. What I did doesn’t change that. I’m not sure anything can.”
Damn, he knows exactly how to take me from the ground to sky-fucking-high in less than a handful of heartbeats.
The only thing more dangerous than a quadrant full of arrogant killing machines is a leaderless quadrant,
“Shh, it’s more fun when she blows shit up,” Ridoc whispers.
He’s the Duke of Tyrrendor. This is so much bigger than how I feel about him now. There’s an entire province depending on him.
So we’re begging forgiveness instead of asking permission. Understood.
“Can you be stopped?” “No.”
You might be angry when you realize I didn’t wake you to say goodbye. But it’s only because I no longer fully trust my ability to walk away. —Recovered Correspondence of His Grace, Lieutenant Xaden Riorson, Sixteenth Duke of Tyrrendor, to Cadet Violet Sorrengail
“If I’d been there, beyond the wards, I would have drained the very earth to its core to keep you safe.”
