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“It’s going to get between my scales.” “And now you understand why I didn’t let you eat that tortoise,” Tairn mutters,
There is a saying in Deverelli: The word is the blood.
I stare at him like it’s first year all over again. He’s in a short-sleeved uniform top like the rest of us, baring those gorgeously toned arms, but it’s really the relaxed posture, the ease of his smile that have me utterly transfixed and, I can admit…a little confuddled. Xaden Riorson is a lot of things, but happy isn’t usually one of them.
She won’t understand why you’ve kept her in the dark. You left too soon, left too many of your plans unfinished. Now we can only hope the bond between our daughters is strong enough to endure the paths they’ve chosen. They’ll need each other to survive.
she says to Xaden, then gives him a second look before glancing at Dain. “My, the Continent does have some fine-looking men.” A corner of Xaden’s mouth quirks upward, and I can’t help but silently agree with her.
“He meant my mind.” I glance at Mira, but her gaze is locked on the floor. “That’s why he said not to send another in my stead.”
Narelle shoots my sister a withering look and then turns her attention to me. “He left a manuscript for you. What is the title?” “Subjugated: The Second Uprising of the Krovlan People by Lieutenant Colonel Asher Sorrengail,”
The most useless word in the language of aristocracy has always been and will forever be: love. Marriage is a necessary evil to secure the line. Nothing more. Save love for your children. —Confiscated Correspondence of Fen Riorson to Unknown Intended Recipient
He’s kissing me like I’m the only air he can breathe, and that’s all that matters—all that I can allow to matter.
He winds my wet hair around his hand, then tugs my head backward gently, breaking the kiss and setting his lips to my throat.
“Fuck, Violet, you do that again, and this will be over in minutes.”
and I’m sure as fuck not offering the sight of you in a towel up to Aetos
“You two totally broke it, didn’t you?” Ridoc asks on the edge of laughter. “Like that armoire no one was supposed to notice getting hauled out of her room during first year?”
In the first twenty-four hours of removal from source magic, the subject—an asim—presented as even-tempered. But withdrawal quickly revealed the subject’s true nature, requiring the subject’s immediate transfer to stage two of the study. Her results can be found with group thirty-three B under the category: DEATH BY FIRE, and subsequently group forty-six C under the category: DEATH BY POISON. —A Study in the Anatomy of the Enemy by Captain Dominic Prishel
“Andarna shows no sign of trouble. I am inconvenienced, annoyed, and cut off from my source of power, strength, and my mate’s thoughts, but I am still Tairneanach, son of Murtcuideam and Fiaclanfuil, descended from—”
“Fallorinia moths.” I touch the cool glass orb. “We don’t have them on the Continent, just their sister species. They light up when they feed from honeycomb. I read about them in Sir Zimly’s Guide to Deverelli Fauna, but I had no idea they harnessed them for light. It’s brilliant. Poisonous but brilliant.”
“Say what I mean. Don’t lie. Act like a rich, entitled dick. Got it.” He nods.
“The Duke of Tyrrendor,” Blue Sash announces loudly, gesturing to the four steps that lead up the dais on the left, “and his consort, Violet Sorrensail.” Close enough.
Courtlyn rolls the stem of his goblet between his thumb and forefinger. “To whom do you owe your loyalty, Your Grace? Your father was a rebel. From what I hear, you are cut from the same cloth, and yet you’ve been restored to your title, so to whom do you swear your fealty?” I reach into the right side pocket of my pack for the conduit out of sheer habit as the panthers approach the dais, splitting to surround us. The familiar weight of the orb is comforting in my hand, and I swear I can feel a hum, a swift rise in heat that I know is only in my head, but it’s soothing all the same. “Navarre,”
...more
But this…whatever’s swirling in those onyx eyes is a tempest I’ve never beheld. It’s one step past fury, as though Dunne herself has stepped into his eyes and now peers back at me. He’s Xaden, but he’s…not. “Xaden?” I whisper. “It’s nothing. Really. I’ve had worse on a sparring mat.” “They’re all fucking dead.”
He’s Xaden, but he’s…not. “Xaden?” I whisper. “It’s nothing. Really. I’ve had worse on a sparring mat.” “They’re all fucking dead.”
Screams sound around us, and I jerk my head left, finding Xaden’s outstretched hand mid-twist. The unmistakable sound of cracking bone follows, and every guard surrounding us drops to the floor, their heads twisted at unnatural angles.
“Violet.” The plea in his whisper pulls me together faster than anything else could, and I jerk my head up. His eyes are tightly closed as he rubs the bridge of his nose. “Come here,” I say quietly, rising on my toes and cupping the side of his face, lifting my hands to his temples to shield him from view. Courtlyn’s chair squeaks on the dais. “Look at me.” Xaden’s eyes flash open. Red rims his irises and consumes the gold flecks I adore so very much, but he’s still him behind these eyes. I force my body not to react, then pull his forehead to mine. “I love you and we need to get you out of
...more
Now, Andarna doesn’t eat our allies—it’s a whole thing her elders are trying to teach her—but you know how adolescents are.
Ridoc starts, then pauses to appreciate the flier. “Well, hello Cygnisen. Have you been properly welcomed to Basgiath yet?” He cranks up a smile I’ve seen enough times to know he’ll be coming out of someone else’s bedroom tomorrow morning. The flier scoffs. “I don’t do second-years.” “Good thing I fuck like a third.” Ridoc grins. “Plus, I’m on quest squad, which gives me an additional boost of desirability.”
or listening to Andarna go into exhaustive detail on why Tairn is the worst—period—mentor—period—ever—period,
“Halden was Halden,” I tell Aaric, lowering my voice. “He did Halden things and caused Halden-style ramifications, none of which are your fault.”
“So basically, we’re fucked,” Ridoc notes.
“Hi,” he replies, looking me over the same way I just did to him. “You look good.” I reach for the bond and nearly melt with relief when I feel his shields give way for me. Glittering onyx wraps around my mind in a familiar wave, and I drop my barriers. “You feel good, too.”
Ridoc nods. “Do we still have to take Prince Pompous?”
He’s a fucking liability.
“Why don’t you scurry into your little basket?”
“As the dragon would imply.” Ridoc points to Molvic.
“He’s going to be when our father hears—” Halden starts. “Fuck off and tell him.” Aaric shrugs. “Or don’t. I really don’t care.
“He goes by Aaric, and he absolutely will,” I counter, earning myself a menacing glare from my ex that doesn’t even faze me. “You’re banned from Deverelli and have the temper of a two-year-old on a good day, Halden. Aaric is a rider.
“Well, as awkward as this has been…” Ridoc lifts his brows.
“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.
“Do you ever tire of your own voice?” she questions, soaring a little closer to Sgaeyl. “Never,” he assures her.
“That’s fine.” Xaden sits up slowly, keeping the dagger’s edge at the base of the soldier’s throat as he retreats. “We brought blades.”
“I would like to try an Unnbrish horse,” Andarna muses. “No,” Tairn and I answer simultaneously. Andarna sighs down the bond. “One day I’m going to stop asking nicely.”
“Maybe we should rethink this strategy,” Cat whispers. Yeah, I’m with her for once.
“Tyrrendor is safe in Bodhi’s hands should I fall.” Xaden lowers his voice, and my stomach sours at the thought.
“I will show her arrogance,” Tairn threatens,
Vidirys, the cream-stoned capital of Hedotis.
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?” My eyebrows hit my fucking hairline. Xaden reaches across me and wraps his hand over my hip like I need protection. “Mom.”
“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.”
“Are we scheming? I do enjoy scheming.”
“This tastes just like home,” Garrick says, lifting another bite to his mouth. Oh Amari, he’s already eaten a third of it.
wish you and Sawyer were with us, but I’m grateful to have Ridoc, even if his sarcasm is wearing on Mira’s last nerve.
She looks at him like he’s sprouted whiskers. “You named a kitten Broccoli?”
