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“That’s not how signets work,” Ridoc argues. “And you”—the male lowers his gaze to Andarna—“our very hope, have handed this human something far more dangerous to wield, haven’t you?”
“Is that the dark wielder’s cure?” Andarna asks, her head moving in a serpentine motion. “To evolve?” My breath freezes in my chest. The female’s golden eyes narrow to slits. “There is no cure.”
“The world was not ready for you, and though it is no fault of your own, we cannot accept you.” I gasp and clutch Xaden’s hand.
“The irids are a bunch of assholes who rejected Andarna,” Ridoc says. “So, it’s been a rather shit day.”
“You can still love someone after you let them go. But you have to tell me there’s a line where you will let him go.
he’d have to kill another rider without cause or hurt civilians. Hurt my friends, my dragons. Hurt…me,”
“She tells Rhiannon and Sawyer,” Ridoc demands, then pauses, considering. “And Jesinia.”
Logically, I know there’s no chance Theophanie is aware we’re beyond the wards, available for her to pick off at will, but she shouldn’t have known I’d be in Anca, either.
“Fuck, did we need you on that trip. Violet was out of control. She kicked a queen’s ass and poisoned Xaden’s mom and all three Hedotic heads of state, but secured us an army.”
When Aetos accidentally lets slip his annoyance that King Tauri is so grateful to have Aaric back that he’s forbidden any form of punishment,
“I do.” Fuck, I actually said it. Every head turns my way, and Devera nods.
Countering signets might not be the best offensive tool, but damn if it isn’t a hell of a defense.
Tyrrendor is going to take in civilians? My chest constricts and warms all in the same second. “I love you.”
“You are a prince, not the prince. Bring your troops into Tyrrendor, and Aaric will suddenly find himself first in line for the throne.”
Lynx stands in the middle of the hallway, shaking from head to foot, staring at the darkness that envelops his hands.
“It would take a great deal more than a change of posture to dishonor me,” he replies. “But you never had to lower yourself before me, did you? Not for Naolin, or—” “We do not speak of the one who came
before.” Agonizing pain floods the bond, and I immediately regret my choice of words.
Maybe he can’t mend Xaden, but there’s never been a problem my brother couldn’t solve.
Aaric, who has yet to manifest a signet,
My brows rise at the next passage I read, and I go over it once more to be sure I’ve caught on to a pattern. That makes three.
“I need you to give me the one thing you love breaking.” I force my brain to work through the haze of lust he’s creating. “Control.” “Control.” He nods.
I’m through waiting, and I will not allow her to win such a prize.”
“I had a relic on my left wrist, right where yours all start. And my hand didn’t look like mine. Now that I’m thinking about it, it looked like…yours.
“It’s my hand,” he repeats. “You were in my dream.”
Two hours later, I’ve told him about every dream I can remember with the Sage, and Xaden’s had every single one.
When I do, I wake up feeling like someone was there with me, watching.”
“You were in Maren’s dream.”
“There is if you’re a dream-walker.”
“There’s no such thing as dream-walking, and the irids told her that she gave me something more dangerous than lightning. It was one of the reasons they were so angry with her.”
“It’s absolutely more dangerous than lightning. It’s a form of inntinnsic,”
But there’s no part of me who wants or needs to know what anyone else is dreaming—”
“Except when I did. I was
cut off from her while she slept all ...
This highlight has been truncated due to consecutive passage length restrictions.
They’ll snap your neck and call it self-defense.”
Fuck, I’m in sparring gear and lack armor, but it will have to do. At least my boots are on.
“I love you more than this city. Do not die defending it.”
“You have to protect Dunne’s temple.”
“No.” He shakes his head, then seems to fight for words. “You have to protect the temple.”
“It’s how you save Tyrrendor.” Aaric’s voice drops to a whisper.
“Tell me you made it to the wardstone,” I call back to Andarna. “It is well protected,” she promises, and her words lift the hair at the back of my neck.
“Your inability to follow simple orders will get her killed, and I will not lose her as I did the one who came before!”
“Do you use lye and the juice of the Manwasa flower on your hair as we do?”
Heretic? My gaze darts between the two women as my mind races in time with my heartbeat. The faded forehead tattoo. Theophanie was a priestess of Dunne. Her silver hair matches the attendants’ on Unnbriel…matches mine—
All three grasp hands, and the one in the center takes a single step and vanishes.
“And I’m glad, or it looks like we’d both be dead. We were almost here when the wards went up.”
You are magic. Bend it, shape it, break it as you see fit.” Wait. What?
forged a second connection where there shouldn’t be one. Only an irid can do that. Your instincts are excellent, but you need instruction. Break the connection and come with me.”
“How did you replace the power you lost?” Mira asks quickly. I wrench my gaze back to hers. “I…didn’t. What are you talking about?”
“I was eight,” Mira interrupts. “And it was just you and me, remember? Violet was too little to stay. When they returned, Grandma stopped speaking to them.”
“That doesn’t mean they hauled her to Dunne’s temple and dedicated her.” Brennan shakes his head with disgust. “That’s been illegal since the two hundreds.”
