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“Fascinating. You look all frail and breakable, but you’re really a violent little thing, aren’t you?”
“Going for blood today, are we, Violence?” he whispers.
My breath catches and my body warms, the traitorous bitch.
“Look, are you going to kill me or not? The anticipation is starting to annoy the fuck out of me.”
“Am I affecting your schedule, Violence?”
“I know everything that goes on here.”
“Shadows, remember? They hear everything, see everything, conceal everything.”
“I’m Mira’s sister, Violet.”
each heading in our own direction like we’ve
been flung apart by centrifugal motion,
when a gust of wind slams into my back, and I stumble forward onto my destroyed ankle, flinging my arms out to keep my balance
Standing with the golden one tucked under an enormous, scarred black wing is the biggest dragon I’ve ever seen in my life—the unbonded black dragon
“I know exactly who and what you are, Violet Sorrengail.”
Heat rushes through every vein, wakes every nerve ending.
“His mate told him,” I whisper. Sgaeyl called for Tairn.
“Each time a dragon chooses a rider, that bond is stronger than the last, which means that if you die, Violence, it sets off a chain of events that potentially ends with me dying, too.”
“You’re freakishly calm for someone who just heard she’s about to be hunted.”
being hunted by forty-one people is a lot less intimidating than constantly watching dark corners for you
“Humans have no say in the laws of dragons.”
“Stubborn silver human,” Tairn mutters,
my body doesn’t heat at the sight of him the way it does around Xaden.
I’m alive. I’m alive. I’m alive. I repeat the mantra in my head
“Yes. You’re alive.” Xaden steps over Oren’s body
“I didn’t realize I’d said that out loud.”
“Come on, Violence.”
“Pull your shit together and tell me where you’re hurt.”
“I know how to handle a corset.” His jaw flexes once, and something that reminds me of raw hunger flitters across his expression before he locks it down, drawing my hair over my shoulder with surprising gentleness.
Not that I wouldn’t climb the man like a tree if presented with the right set of circumstances.
It’s odd to imagine Xaden ever not being in control. Hell, I’d pay good money to see him lose it. To be the one he lost it with.
Even the most effective poisons come in pretty packages, and Xaden’s exactly that—as beautiful as he is lethal.
The first is something I’m sure Xaden would be more than capable of providing, if he ever thought of me that way, but the second? He’s the last person I should be craving, but lust and logic never seem to go hand in hand.
My chest tightens. Gods, I hate it when Dain proves me right.
“Xaden’s up there fighting because I told him it was her. Help him.” And gods, I admire him for it. I take a deep breath.
Wanting and admiring? I’m so screwed.
Maybe it’s just that I haven’t been around marked ones before Basgiath, but the outright hostility toward them is becoming glaringly, uncomfortably obvious to me.
His emotions only flow into me when they override his control.
“That shows excellent forethought.”
Wanting Xaden is fine. It has to be. Indulging the impulses it gives me? That’s asinine.
We all snap out of it, and I shake my head like that might clear the dizzying need that demands I do more than look at Xaden, which is just…ridiculous.
I’m just trying not to notice his chest or the heat he’s throwing off like a damned furnace.
“Because I’m supposed to trust you?” “Yes.”
A vein in his neck bulges.
“You choose the oddest times to defend her, Aetos.” Xaden all but rolls his eyes as he looks at Dain. “And the most convenient times not to.”
stupid, foolish heart feels like there’s a fist around it, squeezing tight.
“Ask me nicely, Violence,” he whispers. “Or I’m gone.”
What can I say, I like making you squirm. It’s like a sweet little slice of payback for what you’ve put me through these last couple of months.” He brushes the snow off my hair.
“As you prefer. Xaden?” I smile sweetly up at him and inch a little closer. “Would you pretty, pretty please teach me how to shield before I accidentally climb you like a tree and we both wake up with regrets?”
I surrender completely, melting into him, my body going pliant against his and losing that mental foothold he calls grounding. A flash of light burns behind my closed eyes, followed by the boom of thunder. Thunder-snow isn’t uncommon around here, but damn does it summarize how this feels, wild and out of control.
He reaches up to cup my cheek, and I hold his gaze, determined for him to understand he either starts valuing my choices or we are never going to fix our friendship. “All right, Vi.”
Keep one foot firmly grounded at all times. You’re useless unless you’re connected to your power, and you’re dangerous if you can’t contain it. There is only the in-between that makes you a great rider.
