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Your wings won’t hold the weight of this ice,’” Andarna blatantly mocks him. “And yet yours miraculously carry the burden of your ego.”
“The Dark One didn’t cut it in the first place,”
“His soul is no longer his own.”
“That kind of power is addictive.
“Pain isn’t a competition,” I assure him. “There’s always enough to go around.”
The rarest of signets—those that rise once in a generation or century—have manifested concurrently with an equal twice in our records, both critical times in our history, but only once have the six most powerful walked the Continent simultaneously. As fascinating as that spectacle must have been, I would rather not live to see it happen again.
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.
“Nothing about you scares me. I won’t run, Xaden.”
“Scared yet?”
“And I’ll tell you the same thing she said to Imogen. Get fucked.”
“Are you going to go all broody and try to pull away from me? Because fair warning, I’m not going to let that happen.”
and as much as I want you to run, I’m too selfish to give you up.”
Xaden and I are the first of our signets to live simultaneously since the Great War?
“I’m barely keeping my hands to myself as it is. If you knew how often I think about sneaking into your room…”
“I’ve always loved watching you on the mat.” “I know.” Xaden rolls his neck. “I’ve used it to my advantage a few times.”
“I’m either completely in love with your boyfriend or utterly terrified of him,” Ridoc says under his breath. “Not sure at the moment.”
“And he’s not my boyfriend.” Rhi snorts and Ridoc offers me a sarcastic thumbs-up. “Agreed,” Xaden says. “That’s far too casual a term for what we are.”
For better or worse, my fate rests in the hands of Dain Aetos.
My brightest light, I meant to prepare you but only had time for half the lessons you need, half the history, half the truth, and now time runs short. I failed Brennan the day I watched him walk the parapet, failed Mira when I could not stop her from following, but I fear my death will fail you. Your mother and I trust no one, and neither can you.
“By Malek, I fucking love you,”
“Aretia is the second most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He hands me his reins, turning those gorgeous, gold-flecked onyx eyes into weapons capable of melting the underwear straight off my body as he looks up at me. “And my home is the first.”
“Violet is the only choice I’ve made for myself.
“Pull your shit together and come back to me because I need you. Not this. You.”
For both war and love change souls irrevocably.
“That’s a little menacing,” I admit to Feirge. “Then let us be menaces,”
“You have been the gift of my life,” I tell Tairn. “It is not over!” he shouts.
For when you lose yours. Strike in the dark, Violet.
A gift from one servant of Dunne to another. I must warn you—only those touched by the gods should wield their wrath. I will pray to Her that she need not use it to avoid reacquainting herself with the other who curries her favor. Her path is still not set.
“Do you?” she counters. “Or are you immune, having only been touched, but not dedicated?”
“Why serve a god when you can be one?”
Shadow spreads like a ripple on a lake, devouring the field in the fury of an onyx storm and sweeping toward us at a speed that squeezes the hope from my chest, then outright shatters my heart.
This is the kind of force that ends worlds. And it’s almost here.
“Dunne is a wrathful goddess to high priestesses who turn their backs on Her.”
She was the first to choose me, to elevate me above all others, the first to see every ugly side of me and accept it all, and every single person in this fucking canyon will die before they remove a single one of her scales.
How fucking dare they pull my dragon from the sky, snare and hurt the one who anchors my existence.
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I’m no longer on the ice—I am the ice.
She is warmth and light and air and love.
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.
What even am I? Hers.
While cadets are strongly encouraged not to form romantic attachments while studying in the quadrant, lieutenants are permitted to marry whomever they choose upon graduation.
“And so far, the tally is at six missing eggs from the hatching ground, but they’re double-checking.”
“It’s an official blessing of your legal, binding marriage,”
