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He’s the most exquisite man I’ve ever seen.
Flaming hot. Scorching hot. Gets-you-into-trouble-and-you-like-it level of hot.
The black-haired rider snaps his gaze to mine, turning fully toward me, and my heart thunders for all the wrong reasons.
“Oh shit,” I whisper, and his eyes narrow, as if he can hear me over the howl of wind that rips at my secured braid.
Xaden sucks in a deep breath, and the muscle in his jaw flexes once. Twice. “Your mother captured my father and oversaw his execution.” Wait. Like he has the only right to hatred here? Rage races through my veins. “Your father killed my older brother. Seems like we’re even.”
He looks down, noting our mismatched shoes, and arches a brow. His hands relax. “Interesting.”
His gaze clashes with mine as the sky opens
holy shit i never thought about the foreshadowing of this
Xaden never takes his eyes from me, watching silently with a look I can’t interpret as I bring my horrified gaze back to his. “Why would I waste my energy killing you when the parapet will do it for me?” A wicked smile curves his lips. “Your turn.”
“Cadet Sorrengail has you by the actual balls here, in more ways than one. She’s right. Regs state that there’s nothing but respect among riders at formation.
That is, if she decides to let you off the parapet. Because technically, you’re not on the grounds yet, so you are not a cadet. She is.”
Xaden watches me with a cold, calculating look that feels like he’s plotting my death from where he stands as the wingleader for Fourth Wing.
We’re moving to Fourth Wing. Xaden’s wing. It takes a minute, maybe two, and we take our place in the new formation. I force myself to breathe. There’s a fucking smirk on Xaden’s arrogant, handsome face. I’m now entirely at his mercy, a subordinate in his chain of command. He can punish me however he likes for the slightest infraction, even imaginary ones.
He stiffens and looks away. “Tell me.” I need to know if I’m reading into a situation that doesn’t exist. “Fuck,” he mutters, ripping his hand over his hair. “Xaden Riorson wants you dead. It’s common knowledge among the leadership cadre after yesterday.” Nope. Not overreacting.
“The navy-blue one who landed behind the dais yesterday?” My stomach twists. The way those golden eyes assessed me…
I can’t wait to channel so I can use the type of coveted pens Mom keeps on her desk. A smile curves my lips. There could definitely be perks to being a rider. There will be.
“What was the condition of the village?” a deep voice asks from the back of the lecture hall. The hairs on my neck rise, my body recognizing the imminent threat behind me.
“You can’t use your powers in here, Imogen!” Dain shouts. Imogen is trying her best to kill me.
Damn it, I
don’t want to find a single thing about Xaden Riorson admirable, and yet here he is, being all annoyingly admirable. Asshole.
“Scream and you die,” he whispers, and my stomach plummets as the elbow is replaced by the sharp bite of a dagger at my throat.
“Fucking Sorrengail.” His hand yanks back the hood of my cloak.
He scoffs. “I command shadows, but sure, it was your perfume that gave you away.”
he knew what she smelled like hehe
“I’m more dangerous than you think,” I flat-out bluster. “So I see. I’m quaking in my boots.” The corner of his mouth rises into a mocking smirk. Fucking. Asshole.
“Fascinating. You look all frail and breakable, but you’re really a violent little thing,
He reaches under my own cloak and slides one blade into the sheath at my thigh, then pulls back the side of my cloak and pauses. His gaze locks onto the length of my braid where it falls over my shoulder, and I could swear he stops breathing for a heartbeat before he slides the remaining dagger into one of the sheaths at my ribs.
“You’re not going to handle me?”
“Not tonight!” he tosses over his shoulder. I scoff. “What are you waiting for?” “It’s no fun if you expect it,” he answers, striding into the darkness. “Now, get back to bed before your wingleader realizes you’re out after curfew.” “What?” I gawk after him. “You’re my wingleader!”
this made me giggle so much
I slip out of Dain’s hold and move to his side so I can see her. “I wondered where you were this morning.” A grin spreads across my face as Tara appears next to her. “Hey, Tara.” “Hey, Violet.” She gives me a wave, then heads down the hallway, tucking her shirt into her pants.
“Way to go,” I whisper quickly. She’s had a thing for Tara since we got here. “I know, right?” She backs away with a smile, then turns to push through the hall doors. “Monitoring the sex lives of first-years was not what I had in mind when I applied to be a squad leader,” Dain mutters, and we continue toward the kitchen.
Something in my chest shifts, a feeling that I can’t explain and yet can’t shake.
“Violet,” Professor Kaori calls out, and I pivot to look back. “I taught both your siblings. A signet like mine is too useful here in the classroom to let me deploy with a wing for long. Brennan was a spectacular rider and a good man. Mira is shrewd and gifted in the seat when it comes to riding.” I nod. “But you’re smarter than both of them.”
I blink. It’s not often I get compared to my brother and sister and somehow come out on top. “From what I’ve seen of you helping your friend study in commons every night, it seems you might be more compassionate, too. Don’t forget that.” “Thank you, but being smart and compassionate isn’t going to help me when it comes to Threshing.” A self-deprecating laugh escapes. “You know more about dragons than anyone else in the quadrant, probably anyone else on the Continent. They choose strength and shrewdness.”
“And not all strength is physical, Violet.”
Delicate, my ass. He’d probably think twice about plotting your murder if you threw a few daggers at his head. I unsheathe both daggers from my ribs and flick them in his direction in one smooth movement. They land right where I intended—one nearly nicking his ear and the other an inch beneath his balls.
“He needs to realize I’m not a liability.” And I’ll be harder to kill than he thinks. There’s no ignoring the prickle at my scalp, and I let my gaze shift to meet Xaden’s. My heart does that damn stuttering thing again, as if he’d sent shadows straight through my ribs to squeeze the organ. He lifts his scarred brow, and I swear there’s a hint of a smile on his lips as he leaves, walking over to observe the Fourth Wing cadets at the next mat.
“I’m happy to step in.” That voice. That tone. That prickle of ice along my scalp… Oh no. Hell no. No. No. No. “You sure?” Professor Emetterio asks, glancing over his shoulder. “Absolutely.” My stomach hits the floor. And Xaden walks onto the mat.
“I hardly think it’s fair—” Dain’s voice rises. “No one asked you to think, squad leader,” Xaden fires back as he moves to the side, discarding every weapon on his body—and there’s a lot of them—and handing them to Imogen. The bitter, illogical taste of jealousy fills my mouth, but there’s no time to examine that particular oddity, not when there’re only seconds before he’s in front of me again.
“Going for blood today, are we, Violence?” he whispers.
Then he leans closer. “Taking out your enemy before the battle is really smart; I’ll give that to you,” he whispers, his warm breath brushing the shell of my ear.
“Problem is, if you aren’t testing yourself in here”—he scrapes the dagger down my neck, but there’s no warm trickle of blood, so I know he hasn’t cut me—“then you’re not going to get any better.”
Everything around us fades as my world narrows to the arrogant glint in his gaze. He’s all I can see, all I can feel.
He seizes my wrist and pins it above my head. Shit. Shit. SHIT.
Heat rushes up my neck and flames lick my cheeks as he lowers his face so his lips are only inches away from mine. I can make out every speck of gold in his onyx eyes, every bump and ridge of his scar. Beautiful. Fucking. Asshole.
My breath catches and my body warms, the traitorous bitch. You are not attracted to toxic men, I remind myself, and yet, here I am, getting all attracted. I have been since the fir...
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I swallow, refusing to think of other things that are a good fit at this angle.
“Oh, Violence,
Then he guides our hands back to my ribs and slides the ruby-hilted blade back into its sheath. The move is unnervingly…hot.
“Nope. Defenseless women have never been my type. We’re done for today.”
Xaden would just beat the shit out of him. I blink, shoving that comparison and any other thought of Xaden Riorson far out of my head.
