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A dragon without its rider is a tragedy. A rider without their dragon is dead.
“Stay the hell away from Xaden Riorson.” The air rushes from my lungs. That name… “That Xaden Riorson,” she confirms, fear lacing her gaze. “He’s a third-year, and he will kill you the second he finds out who you are.” “His father was the Great Betrayer. He led the rebellion,” I say quietly. “What is Xaden doing here?” “All the children of the leaders were conscripted as punishment for their parents’ crimes,”
He’s tall, with windblown black hair and dark brows. The line of his jaw is strong and covered by warm tawny skin and dark stubble, and when he folds his arms across his torso, the muscles in his chest and arms ripple, moving in a way that makes me swallow. And his eyes… His eyes are the shade of gold-flecked onyx. The contrast is startling, jaw-dropping even—everything about him is. His features are so harsh that they look carved, and yet they’re astonishingly perfect, like an artist worked a lifetime sculpting him, and at least a year of that was spent on his mouth. He’s the most exquisite
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I’ve always loved the nights where storms beat against the fortress window, both illuminating and throwing shadows over the books I curled up with,
but you’re really a violent little thing, aren’t you?”
“Going for blood today, are we, Violence?” he whispers. Metal hits the mat again and he kicks it past my head and out of my reach. He’s not taking my daggers to use against me; he’s disarming me just to prove he can. My blood boils. “My name is Violet,” I seethe. “I think my version fits you better.” He releases my wrist and stands, offering me a hand. “We’re not done yet.”
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.
“Oh, Violence, you’re good, but I’ve known better poison masters. The trick is to not make it quite so obvious.”
The move is unnervingly…hot.
“Am I affecting your schedule, Violence?”
The fastest up the Gauntlet was Liam Mairi, of course, earning him the Gauntlet patch.
There is nothing quite as humbling, or as awe-inspiring, as witnessing Threshing…
Xaden. For the first time, the sight of him fills my chest with hope. He won’t let this happen. He might hate me, but he’s a wingleader. He can’t just watch them kill a dragon.
“My name is Tairneanach, son of Murtcuideam and Fiaclanfuil, descended from the cunning Dubhmadinn line.”
“But I’m not going to assume that you’ll be able to remember that once we reach the field, so Tairn will do until I inevitably have to remind you.”
“Now get in the seat and actually hold on this time, or no one is going to believe that I’ve actually chosen you,”
“I know exactly who and what you are, Violet Sorrengail.”
“I have absolutely no intention of falling for you, Sorrengail.”
Because if there’s one thing I know for certain, it’s that I’m going to fall for this man—if I haven’t already—and he’s halfway there, too, whether he realizes it or not.
Even the broody little cloud that follows him everywhere has a certain appeal as he rolls his eyes at something Garrick says.
“You’re going to be the death of me.”
“I haven’t changed my mind, Violence. There’s no future for us.”
“You are a good friend, Liam Mairi.”
“I’m just…his.” For the first time since last year, I step up onto the parapet.
I’m in love with Xaden.
It’s my reckless heart.
Xaden’s head snaps in my direction. “Violence?”
“Only if you do. I want to be wherever you are.”
then show it again when you take the time to hunt down violets before a leadership meeting so I don’t wake up feeling alone.
“I told you that I was the one who would decide when I’m ready to risk my heart, and I’m saying it.”
“Gods help me, I’m only looking at you.”
“There’s only you, Violence. Is that what you needed to hear?” I nod.
If I didn’t already love him, that might have pushed me over the edge. “You wanted me then?”
“I’ve wanted you from the first second I saw you, Violence,”
