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“The closest translation for humans is probably ‘for fuck’s sake.’
and he palms my face gently,
No doubt they were written as a parable to warn us of the dangers of bonding dragons, but in Navarre’s six-hundred-year history of unification, I’ve never read of a single rider losing their soul to their powers. The dragons keep us from that.
I feel a tingle in my scalp
“I’ve seen you practicing this week with those blades of yours, Sorrengail. Riorson was right. You would have been wasted as a scribe.”
“Oh, are we telling dick jokes now?” Ridoc asks from Liam’s side. “Because my entire life has led up to this very moment.”
Xaden studies me with an intensity that makes me sway toward him. “You are astonishing.” He shakes his head. “I couldn’t do that for weeks.”
“Fuck it.”
I know you don’t want to hear this, but sometimes you have to know when to take the death blow, Mira. It’s why you have to be sure that Violet enters the Scribe Quadrant. She’ll never be able to take a life.
“We’ve had the scribes on it since Threshing, and the only reference they can find in the Archives about the power of feathertails is hundreds of years old, which is funny because I remember your father doing a bit of research about the second Krovlan uprising, and he mentioned something about feathertails, but we can’t seem to find that tome.”
“I don’t believe he finished his research on that particular historical event before he died, Colonel Aetos. I couldn’t even tell you where his notes are.” The words are as true as I can make them. I know exactly where his notes are—in the one location he spent the majority of his after-hours time.
“I’m proud you’re mine.”
“And considering he’s the most powerful of them in the quadrant at the moment—” “But not the Continent,” Tairn admits. “—that means you don’t trust me, either, Cadet Sorrengail.”
“Should I get the wingleader?”
It only takes one desperate generation to change history—even erase it.
Every fable in this book is about how too much power corrupts, so maybe he felt someone in leadership was corrupt.”
I feel a familiar prickle along my scalp,
Trust me, she wasn’t looking at me, and even if she were…” He pauses, his hand slipping to cradle the back of my head as he holds us steady despite the gusting wind. “Gods help me, I’m only looking at you.”
“I don’t deserve you.” His arm curls around my hips and he tugs me closer. “But I’m going to keep you all the same.”
“Oh gods.” “Which one are you calling out for?” he asks against my flesh. “Because it’s just you and me in this room, Vi, and I don’t share.”
In his last days of interrogation, Fen Riorson lost touch with reality, railing against the kingdom of Navarre. He accused King Tauri, and all who came before him, of a conspiracy so vast, so unspeakable, that it does not bear repeating by this historian. The execution was swift and merciful for a madman who cost untold lives.
“One generation to change the text. One generation chooses to teach that text. The next grows, and the lie becomes history.”
“We will feast on their bones, Silver One.”
Deigh says that building on the other side of the road has a crate of something marked with Liam’s family crest,” Tairn tells me as I fire off another blast that lands nowhere near the venin. “He says it’s highly…unstable,”
But it was the third brother, who commanded the sky to surrender its greatest power, who finally vanquished his jealous sibling at a great and terrible price.
Looking back, there were a thousand tiny moments that pulled me over the edge for the woman asleep in the bed I always pictured her in.
