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“Are you nervous now that your reckless one has departed?” I clear my throat, and the ground shakes as Tairn steps over the trees, lowering his head so that the table linen moves with his breath. “No, not particularly. Dragons are known to have short tempers, and Andarna’s jaw is probably getting a little tired, so we should speed this along, don’t you think?”
“A dragon egg shell.” Courtlyn drags out the words, less than impressed. “As amazing as your beasts are, once you’ve seen one shell, you’ve seen them all.” “Not this one.” A corner of my mouth lifts, and I run my finger along the inner edge, picturing her biding her time for hundreds of years, listening, waiting. A charge of energy runs up my arm, and I lift my brows at the sensation. “This is the only shell of its kind. It belongs to the one and only irid we have on the Continent. The seventh breed of dragon. It is Andarna’s kind we’re searching for.”
“If you are amenable, there is another trade I might be able to broker for you.” “I’m listening.”
“Your best guess on that strategy?” My stomach turns. “They somehow know about the Aretian wards and they’re moving into position for the inevitability of them falling.”
“Hey, Bodhi?” I whisper so only the two of us can hear. “Hey, Violet?” he answers, looking up. “What’s your second signet?” I lower my voice even more. He lifts his brows, then glances in Garrick’s direction. “Don’t have one.” “As in you don’t have one that I get to know about but will eventually see you wield, or don’t have one have one?”
“Carr tells me you’re refusing to train your signet.” “You what?” I shut my book. “You really going to mourn the loss of another Mairi?” Sloane fires back at Dain.
“Would you train if all you did was destroy things?” She drags her gaze from the pit. “Kill people?”
“Liam—” I start. “Made his choice,” Sloane reminds me. “We’re making ours.” She folds her arms. “And he would want me to make sure you’re as prepared as you can be, even if that means none of us go with you.”
“This is…” Bodhi’s eyes narrow on me. “Come down here.” Magic ripples as I cross the sound shield and step down onto the outer cobblestone rings of the pit. “What’s going on, Sorrengail? Because I’m all for fucking rules, ignoring orders, and bucking protocol, but this rush—”
“His eyes.” I clench my fists and lower my voice to softer than a whisper. “From the alloy in Deverelli…the flecks in Xaden’s eyes didn’t go back to gold. They’re still amber.”
Serum and Antidote. “Thanks.” I quickly pocket them before anyone can see. “I’m not planning on using them on—” “I’m just glad you recognize you might have to,” he interrupts. “We’ll find a cure,” I promise with far more certainty than I feel. Bodhi’s mouth tightens. “I’d kill to go, but you need to take Garrick with you.” Neither of us say what he means. Take Garrick in case you don’t.
“Wield!” Carr shouts. “Defend yourself!” The second-year out of Claw Section splays her hand wide on the mat and screams. Color drains in a circle around her hand, leaving the mat gray. Oh shit. My stomach clenches and I stare, stunned. She’s turning right in front of us. Or has she been one of them all along? Xaden would have sensed her, right? He was just here. Or would she have sensed him? I palm my dagger. Gasps and shrieks sound in the stands behind us. “Carr!” Panchek orders. The professor moves faster than I’ve ever seen him, brandishing an alloy-hilted dagger and driving it straight
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“Violet.” Halden lowers his voice and slowly looks my way. The plea in his eyes hits me straight in the chest. “I won’t let anything happen to him,” I promise. Halden nods once. “I’ll hold you to it.” He looks at each of us in turn, and the promise morphs into a threat. “All of you.”
“Do not lose altitude,” Tairn warns her. “There is no telling what weaponry arms the merchant vessels beneath us.” “Do you ever tire of your own voice?” she questions, soaring a little closer to Sgaeyl. “Never,” he assures her.
But it does cause my heart to sink slightly. “They’ve never seen dragons.” “My family isn’t on this isle,” Andarna notes, frustration surging down the bond and pouring over me like a thousand pinpricks.
My gaze locks on the last of them, a girl who looks to be no more than ten. The brunette’s silver-tipped braid swings against her back as she scoops up a younger child and is ushered inside. Breath abandons me as she disappears.
Never in my twenty-one years have I seen anyone with hair like mine. Does hers always end in silver no matter how short she cuts it? Do her joints fail her? Do her bones break? I need to know. I have to know.
“And no, you are not your father, nor your brother, which is precisely why you will not fight. We need you to live. Your kingdom needs you to live.”
“Tyrrendor is safe in Bodhi’s hands should I fall.” Xaden lowers his voice, and my stomach sours at the thought. “This isn’t about honor. Consider it your revenge. Remember what I did to your brother and tell them.”
into the double scabbard and buckles it across his chest. “Garrick is going to be pissed he missed this.” He smirks, then cups the back of my neck and presses a soft, lingering kiss to my lips. “Be right back.”
“I think you may be right about that.” The priestess glances up at the wall where Sgaeyl stands watch. “Which is why I have decided he should not fight alone.” Before I can question her, she drags the blade over Dain’s arm, cutting through his uniform. Oh shit.
“This just got interesting,” Tairn notes. “This is not interesting. This is terrifying.” I snap my reply.
“But do you not yearn for temple? Usually the touch creates such longing that you can’t help but return. Or perhaps you now favor another god.” She glances up at Tairn, ignoring my outburst, and then her eyes slide to Xaden. “I still see us among your potential paths, should you decide to take it. Dunne will accept you. It is not too late to choose Her.”
“So be it. Our goddess teaches that while battles may be won by the strongest warriors, they may also be lost by our weakest. Both must be tested today.”
Xaden whips in my direction, his eyes flaring with something that looks a little too close to terror to be comforting before he returns to whatever weaponry they’re negotiating.
His eyes slide shut and he cups the nape of my neck, then presses a hard kiss to my forehead. “Thank you. That throw probably saved my life.”
“I said I’m fine!” Marlis shouts behind me. “Yes, Your Majesty,” someone replies.
“What do you want?” I call after her as Aaric, Cat, and Dain head our way. “At least name your price.” “The same thing everyone in the isles craves.” She pauses and looks back over her shoulder. “Dragons.”
“Bring us, say…twelve eggs—two of each breed—and I’ll bring my army to the Continent.”
The second Krovlan uprising. Dad was right. But they weren’t looking for feathertails because of their gifts; it was because they thought they were…malleable?
“Trust me, she’s not impressed by titles.” Xaden looks over at Sgaeyl. “If you want to, I understand, but her death would be incredibly inconvenient. Can you pick a guard or something?” The absolute lack of emotion in his voice lifts the hair at the back of my neck.
“We don’t trade in dragons.” “That’s what I thought.” Marlis lowers her hand. “Hold on to that indignation, at least for now. But do visit again when you feel more desperate. From what I know of them, they’re rather dedicated to protecting their own, and perhaps a dozen eggs aren’t such a bad price for saving the rest of them.”
There’s no magic here. Why do I have to keep reminding people about that? Can you wield?” “No, of course not, but you can still speak to your dragons.”
“When did my hair turn silver at the ends?” “Turn?” Mira’s expression mirrors my own. “It grew in that way. Are you all right?
She studies Xaden with a desperate intensity that puts us firmly in awkward territory, and Xaden must feel the same, given that he’s practically petrified into a piece of stone beside me.
“Oh, shit.” Garrick’s face drains of color. “Xaden?” Talia whispers, lifting her hand, then quickly dropping it. “Is it really you?”
“Mom.”
“I was so young when he was born,” she whispers, staring at the doorframe. “Still young when the contract expired. I never thought I’d get to see him again, and now that he’s here…” Tears fill her eyes as she slowly looks at me. “You understand, right?”
“Tell her the truth. He loathes her,” Tairn suggests. “As does Sgaeyl. The life-giver is lucky she wasn’t scorched this morning, though I do believe Sgaeyl is still contemplating her options.”
“I understand wanting to know him,” I tell Talia. “He is spectacular in every way—” “Then you’ll let—” She steps toward me. “Dinner,” I say, standing my ground. “I’ll see if he’s willing to have dinner. But if he isn’t, you’re going to have to respect that, too. You push, and he’ll shove back twice as hard.”
“What I need is for Xaden to be all right. If that means setting this house on fire and leaving without accomplishing anything else on this isle, then I’ll hand him a torch.”
“You must love him to prioritize his feelings over your mission,” she says quietly, like it’s a revelation. “Yes.” I nod. “It’s nothing compared to the way he risked Aretia for me.”
“You should see if she’ll hunt with the others,” I suggest to Tairn. “Feel free to ask. I’ll watch. Be sure you’re near the water so you can put yourself out when she sets you on fire,” he replies.
“How does she”—he points to the door—“deserve my ten minutes when she fed me chocolate cake on my tenth birthday and vanished later that night? I am the fulfillment of a contract for her. Nothing more.
“And don’t think that has anything to do with this.” He points to his eye. “I’m aware in the moments I lack emotion. You and Garrick don’t need to share little oh no glances. I already feel it. It’s like sliding over a frozen lake while a shrinking part of me screams that I’m supposed to be swimming in those pieces I’ve bartered away, and those feelings are right beneath the surface, but fuck is skating faster and a hell of a lot less messy. This shit?” He swings his finger back toward the house. “It’s messy and painful and infuriating, and if I could choose to give this portion of myself
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“Stop pacing and eat something,” he begs her. “I know you’re hungry and I can’t stand that you’re hurting this far from magic, so alleviate some of the pain and go hunt. I’m all right.” She drops her jaw and roars so loud my ears instantly ring.
“Mama, you should have seen it roar!” the younger one adds with a bob of his head.
“The older is probably what? Eleven?” His arms drop. “No wonder she never came back. She didn’t just marry; she built a whole new family.” There’s nothing amused about his laugh.
“This feeling is one I would gladly exchange.” It’s not just the power that’s addicting; it’s the freedom to not feel this.
“Don’t barter it away,” I beg as he stares at the sea, and the words spill out of me faster and faster as his eyes harden and he resurrects the defenses it took me a year to break past. “The pain. The mess. Give it to me. I’ll hold it. I know that sounds ludicrous, but I’ll find a way.” I lace our fingers. “I will hold everything you don’t want to feel because I love every part of you.”
