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“I am as unknown as he is, and you still trust me,” she says. “I will not be another battle you have to fight.”
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.
Your wings won’t hold the weight of this ice,’” Andarna blatantly mocks him. “And yet yours miraculously carry the burden of your ego.”
“Pain isn’t a competition,” I assure him. “There’s always enough to go around.”
“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.”
“Now tell me, which chose you first? The one who gifted you the power of the sky? Or the irid?”
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.”
“Did you love him?” he repeats. “Holy shit.” My hands fall from his jacket. “You’re actually jealous.” “Yes, love, I’m jealous.” He splays his hand over the small of my back and tugs me toward him. “I’m jealous of the armor that holds you when I can’t, the sheets on your bed that caress your skin every night, and the blades that feel your hands. So, when the prince of our realm walks into my classroom and starts talking to the woman I love with what can only be considered intense familiarity, and then has the audacity to ask her out right in front of me, naturally, I’m going to get jealous.”
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“Xaden Riorson.” I lift my chin as if I’m answering to my father for my choice. “And he’s mine, even when he’s being a possessive ass.”
“Sometimes I forget just how nearly perfect Bodhi is at everything,” I say to Xaden.
“He’s my cousin,” Xaden replies, locking eyes with me. “Of course he’s exceptional.” “Hmmm. Just like you, but without the arrogance.” I cock my head to the side. “Maybe I fell for the wrong—” “It would be a shame to kill my last living relative.” Xaden tilts his head to mirror mine, then straightens, and on today of all days, I choose not to remind him that he has two half brothers.
Weird. There’s no mark at the back of his neck like he carries on his palm. There hadn’t been one on Dain’s wrist, either.
