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A dragon without its rider is a tragedy. A rider without their dragon is dead.
“How many rider candidates die on Conscription Day, Mom? Forty? Fifty? Are you that eager to bury another child?” Mira seethes.
that’s insane
“You’re a Sorrengail,” she responds, as if that’s answer enough. “Fuck what they say.”
“I love you, Violet. Remember everything I’ve told you. Don’t become another name on the death roll.” Her
voice shakes, and I wrap my arms around her, squeezing tight.
“So I’m free to take any of the first-years I want to bed,” I say with a little grin. “Just not the second- or third-years.” “Exactly.” She winks.
“Stay the hell away from Xaden Riorson.”
“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.”
“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.
Some riders have the same signets. Fire wielding, ice wielding, and water wielding are just a few of the most common signet powers,
My mother can wield the power of storms. Melgren can see the outcome of battles.
I’m still Dain, and this time next year, you will still be Violet. We will still be us.”
just enjoying the view…respectfully, of course,
Shadow wielders are incredibly rare and highly coveted in battle, able to disorient entire drifts of gryphons, if not take them down, depending upon the signet’s
strength.
“Fascinating. You look all frail and breakable, but you’re really a violent little thing, aren’t you?”
I hate how beautiful he is, how lethal his abilities make him as he strides toward me,
“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.”
Beautiful. Fucking. Asshole.
“People die,” he says slowly, his jaw ticking before he drags in a deep breath. “It’s going to happen over and over again. It’s the nature of what happens here. What makes you a rider is what you do after people die.
October first is always Threshing.
“Dain tried talking me into a brown.”
“Dain lost his vote when he tried talking
you into le...
This highlight has been truncated due to consecutive passage length restrictions.
It’s going to die just because it’s smaller, weaker than the other dragons…just like me.
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.
Xaden. For the first time, the sight of him fills my chest with hope.
Oh. Shit. He’s choosing…me.
Holy shit. I’m on the back of a dragon.
My eyes widen. I have…a dragon. And not just any dragon. I have Tairneanach.
“You will not fall. I will not allow it.”
“You will trust me.”
Maybe it didn’t choose a rider, but it will live to decide again next year, and that’s all that matters.
“You are the smartest of your year. The most cunning.”
“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.”
I’m alive, and I’m no longer a cadet. I’m a rider.
“And Andarnaurram,”
“Both dragons?”
Two dragons. I have…two dragons.
“Every eye in this valley is on me and my dragon—dragons,”
“She doesn’t need to hide behind me when she’s bonded to the most powerful dragon of your year,”
“Look who rode in on the baddest motherfucker around!”
Why, because Tairn is…Tairn? Does Dain think I’m too weak for a dragon as strong as Tairn?
“They’re a mated pair, Tairn and Sgaeyl.
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.
“No. I wouldn’t have.” My heart hits the ground. I’ve always
known deep down that Dain valued rule and order more than relationships, more than me, but to have it so cruelly displayed cuts deeper than Tynan’s sword.
