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A dragon without its rider is a tragedy. A rider without their dragon is dead.
Whitley Munns and 1 other person liked this
“You’re the smartest woman I know. Don’t forget that. Your brain is your best weapon. Outsmart them, Violet. Do you hear me?”
“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,”
“Don’t die, Violet. I’d hate to be an only child.”
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.
“I’m Dain Aetos, and I’m the leader for Second Squad, Flame Section, Second Wing.”
The navy dragon seems to tilt its head at me, as if its narrowed golden eyes can see straight through me to the fear fisting my stomach and the doubt curled insidiously around my heart.
The sparring ring is where riders are made or broken. After all, no respectable dragon would choose a rider who cannot defend themselves, and no respectable cadet would allow such a threat to the wing to continue training.
“I can read a person’s recent memories,” Dain admits quietly. “Not like an inntinnsic reads minds or anything—I have to put my hands on the person, so I’m not a security risk. But my signet’s not common knowledge. I think they’ll use me in intelligence.” He points to the compass patch beneath his Fourth Wing one on his shoulder. Wearing that sigil indicates that a signet is too classified. I just didn’t notice it yesterday. “No way.” I smile, taking a calming breath as I remember Xaden’s uniform didn’t have any patches on it. He nods, an excited smile shaping his mouth. “I’m still learning,
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The hairs on the back of my neck stand up and a chill races down my spine as I cross the center of the rotunda, then my steps halt. Cadets move around me, but my eyes are drawn upward, toward the top of the steps that lead to the gathering hall. Oh shit. Xaden Riorson is watching me with narrowed eyes, the sleeves of his uniform rolled up his massive arms that remain folded across his chest, the warning in his relic-covered arm on full display as a third-year next to him says something that he blatantly ignores.
“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.
“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.
“Fascinating. You look all frail and breakable, but you’re really a violent little thing, aren’t you?”
He looks at me like he’s trying to see through me, and ice prickles my scalp.
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 will not die today. —Violet Sorrengail’s personal addendum to the Book of Brennan
“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. 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 first second I saw him, if I feel like being honest.
“I’m not a damned liability.” My chest tightens again, because deep down I know, on the physical level, that I am. “Not to me,” he whispers, a hand rising to cradle my cheek.
The posts knock a chunk of granite loose, and the rock tumbles down the course, smacking every obstacle in its path until it crashes twenty feet in front of us. If there was ever a metaphor for my life, well…that’s it.
My scalp prickles and Xaden stops mid-step ten feet away, the set of his shoulders rigid. Shit. He knows I’m here.
“Killing you wouldn’t be any trouble, Violence. It’s leaving you alive that seems to cause the majority of my trouble.”
There’s only one way I’m getting over this. Sheer fucking will.
His eyes flare, and I don’t miss the hint of a smirk on that infuriatingly decadent mouth of his. It should be against the Codex to look that good and be so ruthless.
This is not going well. It’s going the opposite of well.
My scalp prickles as each of our heads swivel in his direction. Xaden is leaning against the tree, his arms folded across his chest, and behind him, watching with narrowed golden eyes, her fangs exposed, is Sgaeyl, his terrifying navy-blue daggertail.
Am I seriously arguing with a dragon? This is so fucking surreal.
“My name is Tairneanach, son of Murtcuideam and Fiaclanfuil, descended from the cunning Dubhmadinn line.”
“You are the smartest of your year. The most cunning.” I gulp at the compliment, brushing it off. I was trained as a scribe, not a rider. “You defended the smallest with ferocity. And strength of courage is more important than physical strength. Since you apparently need to know before we land.” My throat tightens from his words, emotion forming a knot I have to swallow past. Oh. Shit. I hadn’t spoken those words. I’d thought them. He can read my thoughts. “See? Smartest of your year.” So much for privacy. “You’ll never be alone again.” “That sounds more like a threat than a comfort,” I think.
My mouth opens, then shuts like a fish out of water as I search for any reply that isn’t fuck off.
“They’re a mated pair, Tairn and Sgaeyl. The strongest bonded pair in centuries.”
Heat rushes through every vein, wakes every nerve ending. I hate the reaction of my body to the sight of him, but I can’t deny it. His appeal is so fucking inconvenient.
He sighs again like it’s his new full-time job.
I belong to Tairn and Andarna…and, in some really fucked-up way…Xaden. My scalp prickles, and I glance across the field at him. As if sensing my gaze, he looks over and holds up a single finger. Target number one.
“You have to know that I would do anything to save you, Violet, to keep you safe,” he blurts, panic in his eyes. “What Riorson said…” He shakes his head. “I know,” I say reassuringly, nodding even as something cracks in my heart. “You always want me safe.” He’d do anything. Except break the rules. “You have to know how I feel about you.” His thumb strokes over my cheek, his eyes searching for something, and then his mouth is on mine.
It was everything I’ve ever wanted…except… Shit. I don’t want it anymore.
My gaze snaps to Xaden, and my chest tightens. So. Freaking. Beautiful. Apparently my body doesn’t care that he’s as dangerous as they come in the quadrant, because heat rushes through my veins, flushing my skin. He’s using a dagger to peel an apple, removing the rind in one long curl, and the blade continues its path as his eyes lift, locking with mine. My whole head tingles. Gods, is there any part of my body that doesn’t physically react to the sight of him?
There’s a disgusted roar of something I don’t understand in my head. “What the hell does that mean?” I scramble for the seat and get myself into position as he flies level. “The closest translation for humans is probably ‘for fuck’s sake.’
A sigh rips from Dain’s lips, and he palms my face gently, his gaze dropping to my lips for a heartbeat before he steps back. “Look. About last night…” “The part where you told me Xaden would get me killed if I bonded Tairn? Or the part where you kissed me?”
There is nothing more sacred than the Archives. Even temples can be rebuilt, but books cannot be rewritten.
I feel a tingle in my scalp and know if I turn, I’ll find Xaden watching us. Watching me.
“Let’s get one thing straight, Dain.” I take a step closer, but the distance between us only widens. “The reason we’ll never be anything more than friends isn’t because of your rules. It’s because you have no faith in me. Even now, when I’ve survived against all odds and bonded not just one dragon but two, you still think I won’t make it. So forgive me, but you’re about to be some of the bullshit that this place cuts away from me.”
I’m alive. I’m alive. I’m alive. I repeat the mantra in my head as Xaden wipes the blood from my dagger on the back of Oren’s tunic. “Yes. You’re alive.” Xaden steps over Oren’s body and two others, retrieving my dagger from the fallen woman’s shoulder before reaching my armoire. I don’t even recognize her, and yet she tried to kill me. Garrick and Bodhi haul out the first bodies. “I didn’t realize I’d said that out loud.”
“I should have killed him slower.” “I’m fine.” I’m not. His focus snaps back to my eyes. “Never lie to me.”
“You’ll live. Turn around.” I do, tugging my nightdress back over my shoulders, and he drops to his knees on the floor before me. My eyes widen. Xaden Riorson is kneeling before me, his black hair at the perfect level for me to run my fingers through the thickness.
Not that I wouldn’t climb the man like a tree if presented with the right set of circumstances.
“We need to know what happened in that room.” Xaden’s dark gaze cuts through me like a knife for a millisecond before he glares back at Tairn. “Do not dare to try and read me, human, or you’ll regret it.” Tairn’s mouth opens, his tongue curling in a motion I know all too well.
“Promise me you won’t tell anyone about the time-stopping,” Xaden asks as we head back into the tunnel, but it feels an awful lot like a command. “It’s not just for your safety. Rare abilities, when kept secret, are the most valuable form of currency we possess.”
Just like it always does, my stupid, hormone-driven heart stutters at the first sight of Xaden. Even the most effective poisons come in pretty packages, and Xaden’s exactly that—as beautiful as he is lethal.
