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To the ones who don’t run with the popular crowd, the ones who get caught reading under their desks, the ones who feel like they never get invited, included, or represented. Get your leathers. We have dragons to ride.
It’s too late to save Mom, but I’ll be damned if I let Xaden get himself killed.
“He isn’t a soulless venin. He’s still Xaden. My Xaden,”
Xaden is mine. My heart, my soul, my everything.
I will not die today. I will save him.
“She told you we think you should sleep somewhere else, didn’t she?” Garrick rolls his neck like he’s preparing for a fight. “She did.” Xaden starts down the steps, and I follow. “And I’ll tell you the same thing she said to Imogen. Get fucked.”
“As much as I appreciate the concern,” Xaden drawls, his voice edging on icy, “you try to dictate the occupants of Violet’s bed again, and we’re going to have problems.”
“Never going to be,” he replies as I walk into the hall. “I have every faith in your ability to protect yourself, but say the word and I’ll rip the doors off their hinges.”
“That’s one of my favorite sounds.” His words wrap around my mind as his hand glides up my thigh, slipping under my nightdress to toy with the line of my underwear, and I fucking melt. “Second only to those little gasps you make in the moments before you come.”
“How do you want me to take you, Violet?” His brow furrows as he adds his thumb against my clit, and the energy gathering within me vibrates. “Here on your back with me above you? Before me on your hands and knees with your ass in the air? Against the wall so I can drive harder? Astride so you can control the pace? Tell me.”
and as much as I want you to run, I’m too selfish to give you up.”
“You ask for speed and then complain when I provide it.”
Oh Malek, I am not ready to meet you.
“And we’ll do it again.” Ridoc kicks back in his seat, throwing his feet up on the table. “And again, and again.”
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
CHAPTER TWELVE
His voice rises, and shadows don’t just jump; they flee.
“I would have killed anything and anyone in that moment to reach you. No exceptions. I would have channeled every ounce of power beneath my feet without hesitation if it would have landed me at your side.”
“If I’d been there, beyond the wards, I would have drained the very earth to its core to keep you safe.”
“They’re all hazy and leaning more toward green than blue. Your pulse is racing, and the way you keep shifting your weight tells me that if I were to strip these pants off you right now, I’d find you more than ready for me.”
“You want me the same way that I want you. Wholly. Completely. With nothing but skin between us. Heart, mind, and body.”
“All I want is to lose myself in you, and I can’t. You are the only person in the world with the power to strip me of every ounce of my control, and the only person I can’t fathom losing that control with.” He lifts his head. “And yet here I am, unable to keep three fucking feet away from you.”
“Garrick’s a distance wielder,
“If you wax sentimental. More like building their own army.” A corner of his mouth rises. “More signets equal more power.”
I’ll use Tyrrendor to protect you, not you to protect Tyrrendor.”
“And what’s to keep me from telling your favorite scribe that you’ve been feeding the enemy?” Jack’s smile widens. “Hard to talk about something you don’t remember.” Imogen steps into his space, and his grin slips.
“Ridoc bedhops like a fucking frog, but no, let’s give me crap.”
“Keep talking, and I’ll plant my dagger somewhere that prevents all frog-like activity.”
“I live by you. When have I ever given a fuck about the Codex or the Code of Conduct?”
“I am yours and you are mine, and there’s no law or rule in this world or the next that will change that.”
“I’m barely keeping my hands to myself as it is. If you knew how often I think about sneaking into your room…”
“I’m either completely in love with your boyfriend or utterly terrified of him,” Ridoc says under his breath. “Not sure at the moment.”
“I’m never scared of him.” Xaden’s eyes find mine, and my pulse skips. “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.”
“You’re going to get over him at some point, right?” Trager mutters as Cat falls back in line. “Seems like a waste of time to chase someone who doesn’t want you when there are plenty of people who do.”
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. —Recovered Correspondence of Lieutenant Colonel Asher Sorrengail to Violet Sorrengail
“A certain hazel-eyed rider kept me up last night talking.” He turns and says something to Garrick, who nods. “Which I didn’t mind, since my bed is too cold without you physically in it and too quiet without you screaming my name.”
He full-on smirks. “Knock me out? You’re usually the one begging for mercy a few orgasms in—” “Want to see begging? All I have to do is swirl my tongue around the tip of your—”
“Oh gods, just stop flirting and fuck already,” Ridoc says.
“By Malek, I fucking love you,” Xaden says.
“She really, honestly hasn’t thought about you. At least not since the second she set eyes on me.”
“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.”
“It feels like there’s more power out here than usual,” I tell Tairn as we dive along a ridgeline. “There’s actually less—the venin saw to that,” he replies. “But you grow more powerful every day, more capable of recognizing what once was entirely invisible to you.”
My feet hit the ground, and everything feels…off without the presence of magic.
“It would help if your fucking ex kept his hands to himself,” he hisses, the shadow firmly gripping my hip.
Dain shoots me a look that borders on an eye roll, reminding me that he’d never been Halden’s biggest fan.
“Startled. We draw on magic for strength,” Tairn explains. “I hadn’t realized how dependent we truly are—”
“I can’t speak with Sgaeyl.” He clips out each word. “Or any of the others. Our communications have been severed.” I reach for the glittering onyx bond, but even though Tairn is still there, Xaden isn’t. We’re already cut off.
Dragon killers.
“Given this is an isle dedicated to peace, they’re certainly prepared for war.” My stomach tenses. It’s been centuries since any Navarrian has stepped foot on this isle, and if we’ve overestimated the viscount’s sway with the king, there’s every chance those cross-bolts will head in our direction.
“I wonder what they taste—” Andarna starts. “No.” My protest catches me by surprise. “They’re dolphinum, and they’re just too pretty to be your snack.” Even prettier than the drawings I’ve seen. “You’re going soft.” Andarna snorts.
