Onyx Storm (The Empyrean #3)

by Rebecca Yarros

The following text has been faithfully transcribed from Navarrian into the modern language by Jesinia Neilwart, Curator of the Scribe Quadrant at Basgiath War College. All events are true, and names have been preserved to honor the courage of those fallen. May their souls be commended to Malek.

until you turn asim and forget all about her.”

Xaden is mine. My heart, my soul, my everything. He channeled from the earth to save me, and I’ll scour the world until I find a way to save him right back. Even if it takes bargaining with Tecarus for access to every book on the damned Continent or capturing dark wielders one by one to question, I’ll find a cure. “We’ll find a cure,” Andarna promises. “We will exhaust every closer resource first, but if I’m right and I somehow altered that venin inadvertently while changing my scales, then the rest of my kind should

know how to master the tactic. How to change him. Cure him

“Tell Glane I need Imogen.”

“Meaning, will I support the myriad of ways you plan to court death in the name of curing one who is beyond redemption?” He swivels his head in my direction again.

Even hundreds of miles away, he’s still taking care of me and doesn’t even know it. “I know where we’ll be safe.”

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

“I am yours and you are mine, and there’s no law or rule in this world or the next that will change that.”

“This will only ever be yours. You could leave me or even meet Malek, and it still would be. I’ve made my peace with knowing there’s no getting over you.” He moves faster than I’ve ever seen, and in a blink, his hands are full of my ass and I’m up against his chest. “Stop me if I cross the line.”

“You took me down for the simple reason that I underestimated your abilities and allowed you close enough to throw me off-balance. How did you do that?” She gestures behind me.

“I don’t care if she hands you a steaming pile of goat shit,” Mira lectures down the line. “No one complains. Got it? Smile and thank her. This is our last real chance to secure an army.” “What if it’s cow shit?” Ridoc asks. “That’s considerably heavier.” “No complaining,” Drake snaps from the left. “Fuck, it’s like traveling with my parents,” Ridoc mutters.

“There’s no way two thousand people gather to watch us open presents.” My stomach turns at the looks of rapt fascination among the crowd. “Don’t pick the shit card,” Xaden replies.

“The compass!” she announces and the men translate. A tall man with bronzed skin and short black hair comes forward from the right, and I turn to face him. His dark eyes study me for a moment that quickly becomes awkward. I lift my chin and his mouth tilts into a smirk as he nods subtly, as though finding my reaction worthy. Extending his hand silently, he offers me a black compass on a dark chain. I glance down as I take it and notice that the needle doesn’t point anywhere near north. It’s broken. Now I understand the smirk. “Thank you,” I tell him and bow my head. “Use it wisely,” he replies, his eyes blatantly mocking me as he bows. “Broken compass,” I tell Xaden as I fall back into line. “You can put it in my box of nothingness,” he replies. “We’ll keep them on the bedside table.” “I’m not carrying this thing home.” But for now, I lift the chain over my head. “It’s bad luck to throw away a gift from Zihnal,” Xaden lectures as

“Say that to him when he’s awake and see how it goes for you.” Xaden brushes his knuckles down my cheek. “I’ve seen the moments you don’t just rise to the occasion—you own it. Deverelli. Unnbriel. You poisoned the entire triumvirate of Hedotis, for fuck’s sake. Imagine who you’ll become when you finally learn to not just embrace that confidence but live it.” “You?” I force a smile. “Better than me.” His thumb grazes my lower lip. “You have to be. You promised to help me protect Tyrrendor, remember?” “I remember.” I nod. “I meant it. I’ll stand by your side.” Exhaustion slows my breath and weights my eyelids. “And between Andarna’s kind and the research we’re compiling about dark wielders, we’ll cure you.” My eyes give in, sliding shut. “There is no cure for me.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “That’s why you have to become better than me. There’s only you.”

I could no more raise a blade to his throat than I could Violet. The bond between Violence and me is the kind of magic that has no explanation. The bond between Berwyn and me is the kind that should never exist, and now that my Sage has another sibling he can use against me…I’m screwed.

“I love you.” Violet’s voice cracks the cold, and a silken thread of warmth wedges itself in the opening before it seals shut, locking it in place. No. Wait. I grab for that thread with desperate hands, clawing to keep her as more of my pieces are blown away, lost to the void. She is warmth and light and air and love.

I love her. That is the emotion I cling to, the fire of pure power burning at the feeling’s edges, and I know if I take it any further, it will be the next and final piece to float away. I bare my teeth and yank my hand from the ground, gasping for a full breath as my heart thunders.

And I’m no longer an initiate.

“And you think she’ll help?” “She loves me.” “Tairn does not, and you haven’t looked in a mirror yet. The red veins branching from your eyes look like her lightning.”

What even am I? Hers. “Persuade Tairn,” I beg. Everything depends on it. “We will ask,” Sgaeyl finally says, flexing her claws in the rocky soil. “And her decision will determine our fate.”

Don’t look for me. It’s yours now. He’s gone.