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Though this officer considers himself to be an expert on all matters dragonkind, there is a great deal we don’t know about the way dragons govern themselves. There is a clear hierarchy among the most powerful, and deference is paid to elders, but I have not been able to discern how it is they make laws for themselves or at what point a dragon decided to bond only one rider, rather than go for better odds with two.
Two dragons. I have…two dragons.
“Every eye in this valley is on me and my dragon—dragons,” I correct myself. “I can’t afford to appear weak.”
I look Jack straight in those evil eyes and smile. I’m done being scared of him. He ran back in that meadow.
“Hiding behind our instructors now, Sorrengail?” Jack’s uninjured fist curls. “I didn’t hide out there, and I’m not hiding here.” I raise my chin. “I’m not the one who ran.”
Yeah... Pussy ass bitch
“She doesn’t need to hide behind me when she’s bonded to the most powerful dragon of your year,” Professor Kaori warns Jack, whose eyes narrow on me. “Your orange is a good choice, Barlowe. Baide, right? He’s had four other riders before you.”
Mic drop....
“Professor Kaori, has anyone ever bonded two dragons?” If anyone knows, it’s the professor of Dragonkind. He turns with me to face the arguing leadership. “You would be the first. Not sure why they’re fighting about it, though. The decision won’t be up to them.”
“Trina?” I ask as he lets me go. One by one, they shake their heads, looking to the others for answers. An impossible heaviness settles in my heart, and I search for any other reason. “I mean…there’s a possibility she’s just unbonded, right?” Sawyer shakes his head, sorrow slackening his shoulders. “I saw her fall from the back of an Orange Clubtail.”
“They’re going to make you choose.” His expression hardens, and the certainty there makes me recoil. “I’m not choosing.” I shake my head, disengaging our hands. “No human has ever chosen, and I’m not about to be the first.” And who the hell is Dain to tell me that? “You are.” He rips his hand over his hair, and his composure slips. “You have to trust me. You do trust me, right?” “Of course I do—” “Then you have to choose Andarna.” He nods as if his decree equals a decision made. “The gold one is the safest choice of the two.” Why, because Tairn is…Tairn? Does Dain think I’m too weak for a
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“They’re a mated pair, Tairn and Sgaeyl. The strongest bonded pair in centuries.”
If Xaden was going to kill me, he wouldn’t have waited this long to do it. He’s had every possible opportunity, and yet I’m still standing here. Bonded. To his dragon’s mate.
But you’re asking the wrong question, Aetos. What you should be asking is if Sgaeyl saw it, too.” Dain swallows and looks away, obviously rethinking his position. “His mate told him,” I whisper. Sgaeyl called for Tairn. “She’s never been a fan of bullies,” Xaden says to me. “But don’t mistake it as an act of kindness toward you. She’s fond of the little dragon. Unfortunately, Tairn chose you all on his own.”
“Tairn’s bonds are so powerful, both to mate and rider, because he’s so powerful. Losing his last rider nearly killed him, which, in turn, nearly killed Sgaeyl. Mated pairs’ lives are—” “Interdependent, I know that.”
“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.”
“The unbonded are going to try to kill you in hopes they’ll get Tairn to bond them.”
“Tairn is one of the strongest dragons on the Continent, and the vast power he channels is about to be yours. The next few months, the unbonded will try to kill a newly paired rider while the bond is weak, while they still have a chance of that dragon changing its mind and picking them so they’re not set back a full year. And for Tairn? They’ll do just about anything.” He sighs again like it’s his new full-time job. “There are forty-one unbonded riders for which you are now target number one.” He holds up a single finger.
“While tradition has shown us that there is one rider for every dragon, there has never been a case of two dragons selecting the same rider, and therefore there is no dragon law against it,” he declares. “While we riders may not feel as though this is…equitable”—his tone implies that he’s one of them—“dragons make their own laws. Both Tairn and…” He looks over his shoulder and his aide rushes forward to whisper in his ear. “Andarna have chosen Violet Sorrengail, and so their choice stands.”
“Holy shit. You have to see this.” “Tell the boy to move,” Tairn orders. “Tairn says you should move.” Dain steps out of the way. Suddenly, my vision isn’t mine. I’m looking at my own back through…Andarna’s eyes. A back that has a glistening black relic of a dragon mid-flight stretching from shoulder to shoulder and, in the center, the silhouette of a shimmering golden one. “It’s beautiful,” I whisper. I’m marked by their magic as a rider now, as their rider.
“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. His lips are soft, but the kiss is firm, and delight races up my spine. After years, Dain is finally kissing me. The thrill is gone in less than a heartbeat.
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It is therefore only natural that the more powerful the dragon, the more powerful the signet its rider manifests. One should beware of a strong rider who bonds a smaller dragon, but even warier of the unbonded cadet, who will stop at nothing to seize a chance to bond.
Rhiannon’s door, across the small hall from mine, opens and I see Sawyer’s tall, lean frame come out. He runs his fingers through his hair, and when he sees me, his eyebrows rise and he freezes—his cheeks almost as red as his freckles. “Good morning.” I grin. “Violet.” He forces an awkward smile and walks off, headed toward the main hallway of the first-year dormitory.
“It’s not like that with us. I’d always hoped it would be, but when he kissed me—there was nothing there. Like. Nothing.”
“The morning after Threshing is always a clusterfuck. Power balance shifts, and you, little Sorrengail, are now about to be the most powerful rider in the quadrant. Anyone with common sense is going to be scared of you.”
There is nothing more sacred than the Archives. Even temples can be rebuilt, but books cannot be rewritten.
“I’m bonded and…” My feelings are complicated, but I think about the way it felt to soar on Tairn’s back, the gentle nudges from Andarna to keep going when I thought my muscles might give out during Imogen’s training sessions, and my relationships with my friends, and I can’t deny the truth. “I’m happy.”
“Tell him if he harms you, I’ll scorch the ground where he stands.” “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Tairn.” I roll my eyes and walk to Dain, whose jaw is locked, but his eyes are wide with apprehension. “Tell him, or I’ll take it up with Cath.” “Tairn says if you harm me, he’ll burn you,” I say as dragons to the left and right launch skyward without their riders, headed back to the Vale. But not Tairn. Nope, he’s still standing behind me like an overprotective dad.
Don’t get me wrong, I couldn’t stand myself if something happened to you, whether you were handling the trial the right or wrong way. And then I thought you’d be fine if you survived Threshing, but even bonded to the strongest of them…” He shakes his head. “Go ahead. Say it.” My hands curl into fists, my nails biting into my palms. “I’m terrified you’re not going to make it to graduation, Vi.” His shoulders slump. “You know exactly how I feel about you, whether or not I can do anything about it, and I’m terrified.”
“This place cuts away the bullshit and the niceties, revealing whoever you are at your core.” I repeat his words from this summer. “Isn’t that what you said to me? Is this who you really are at your core? Someone so enamored with rules that he doesn’t know when to bend or break them for someone he cares about? Someone so focused on the least I’m capable of doing, he can’t believe I can do so much more?”
“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.”
Why is he turning into an asshole??
Jeremiah’s signet power is manifesting. He can read minds—an inntinnsic. His power is a death sentence.
“He’s an inntinnsic!” someone shouts, and that seems to be all that’s necessary. The professor grips Jeremiah’s head with both hands, and a crack echoes off the walls of the silent courtyard. Xaden’s shadows melt away and Jeremiah falls to the ground, his head at an unnatural, macabre angle. His neck is broken.
Your mother has never understood that while riders may be the weapons of our kingdom, it’s the scribes who have all the real power in this world.”
Blowing my unbound hair out of my face, I meet the wide, shocked eyes of an unbonded first-year, and he’s not the only one. There are seven cadets in my room. Four are unbonded men. Three are unbonded women—I gasp with recognition—make that two as she runs for the door and slams it on the way out.
“Your dragon is mine,” Oren hisses in my ear, and his hand falls away, replaced by a blade. Air rushes into my lungs as cold metal caresses my throat, the oxygen flooding my blood and clearing my head enough to realize this is it. I am going to die. From one heartbeat to what will probably be my last, an overwhelming sorrow seizes my chest, and I can’t help but wonder if I would have made it. Would I have been strong enough to graduate? Would I have become worthy of Tairn and Andarna? Would I have finally made my mother proud?
“Mine!” Andarna screams. Skin-prickling energy zings down my spine, then rushes to my fingertips and toes, and the next breath I take is in total, complete silence. “Go!” Andarna demands. I blink and realize the first-year in front of me doesn’t. She isn’t breathing. Isn’t moving. No one is. Everyone in this room is frozen in place…except me.
“She should have killed you in the field, but she’s merciful. That’s not a flaw I possess.” He slashes forward so quickly that I barely catch the move, and Oren’s throat opens in a horizontal line, blood streaming down his neck and chest in a torrent.
“But you and I are exactly that, Violence. We’re chained. Tethered. You die, I die, so I damn well deserve to know how the hell you were under Seifert’s knife one second and across the room in another. Is that the signet power you’ve manifested with Tairn? Come clean. Now.”
“Feathertails shouldn’t bond because they can accidentally gift their powers to humans,” Andarna continues. “Dragons can’t channel—not really—until we’re big, but we’re all born with something special.”
“You’re still a feathertail?” “Yep! For another couple of years, probably.” She blinks slowly and then cracks a yawn, her forked tail curling. Oh. Gods. “You’re…you’re a hatchling,” I whisper.
“Feathertails don’t bond because their power is too unpredictable. Unstable.” “Unpredictable?” Xaden questions. “The same way you wouldn’t hand a toddler your signet, would you, wingleader?” Tairn grunts when Andarna sags against his foreleg. “Gods, no. I could barely control it as a first-year.” Xaden shakes his head.
“If leadership knew riders could take her gifts for themselves, rather than depending on their own signets…” Xaden says, staring at Andarna as she blinks slower and slower. “She’d be hunted,”
“Andarna, thank you. Whatever you did saved my life.” “I made time stop.” Her mouth drops open into another jaw-cracking yawn. “But only for a little bit.” Wait. What? My stomach hits the ground as I stare into Andarna’s golden eyes and forget the pain, the solid earth beneath my feet, even the need to breathe as shock rolls through me, robbing me of logic. No one can stop time. Nothing can stop it. It’s…unheard of.
Accusing a wingleader of wrongdoing is the most dangerous of all accusations. If you’re right, then we’ve failed as a quadrant to select the best wingleaders. If you’re wrong, you’re dead.
“Liam is statistically the strongest first-year in the quadrant. He has the fastest time up the Gauntlet, hasn’t lost a single challenge, and is bonded to an exceptionally strong Red Daggertail. Any squad would be lucky to have him, and he’s all yours, Aetos. You can thank me when you win the Squad Battle in the spring.”
“We find you guilty, Amber Mavis.” “No!” she shouts. “It is no crime to rid the quadrant of the weakest rider! I did it to protect the integrity of the wings!” She paces in panic, looking to everyone—anyone for help. As a whole, the formation moves backward. “And as is our law, your sentence will be carried out by fire,” Nyra states.
Tairn leans low, extending his head and neck past the dais toward where Amber stands. Then his teeth part, he curls his tongue, and he incinerates her with a blast of fire so hot, I can feel it from here. It’s over in a heartbeat. A gruesome scream rends the air, shattering a window in the academic wing, and every rider slams their hands over their ears as Claidh mourns.
“We’re all riders. It was part of the deal. We’re allowed to live, allowed a chance to prove our loyalty, but only if we make it through the Riders Quadrant.” He stares at me in bewilderment. “You don’t know?” “I mean…” I shake my head. “I know that the children of the leaders, the officers, were all forced into conscription, but that’s all. A lot of those treaty addenda are classified.” “I personally think the quadrant was chosen to give us the best chance of rising in rank, but others…” He grimaces. “Others think it’s because the death rate is so much higher for riders, so they were hoping
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He warded your door the morning after the attack.” His expression clearly says I should know this. “I’m guessing he didn’t tell you?” “He what?” “He warded your door,” Liam says, quieter this time. “So only you can open it.” Shit. I don’t know how to feel about that. It’s more than slightly controlling, and way out of line, but also…sweet. “But if he’s the one who warded it, then he can get in, too, right?” “Well, yeah.”
“But it’s not like Riorson is going to kill you.” “Right. You see, I’m still adjusting to that little change of heart.”
“We’ve decided that not only will the winners of this year’s Squad Battle receive bragging rights—” She grins like we’re in for a treat. “But they’ll also be given a trip to the front lines to shadow an active wing.”
