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A dragon without its rider is a tragedy. A rider without their dragon is dead.
No one has dared to mention Brennan or his dragon in the five years since they died fighting the Tyrrish rebellion in the south.
Dad did, too. His chest pains started right after Brennan’s death.
“Dad gave this one to me,” I murmur, pressing the book against my chest. Maybe it’s childish, just a collection of stories that warn us against the lure of magic, and even demonize dragons, but it’s all I have left.
“Probably more,” I admit. “And they’re venin, not vermin.”
My eyes are just as indecisive, a light hazel of varying blues and ambers that never seems to favor either actual color.
“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,”
“Your father killed my older brother. Seems like we’re even.” “Hardly.” His glaring gaze strokes over me like he’s memorizing every detail or looking for any weakness.
Beause her brother isnt dead !!!!!!!!!!
Once bonded, riders can’t live without their dragons, but most dragons can live just fine after us.
Dain steps forward and cups my face, his thumb stroking over my cheekbone in a soothing motion.
Using his powers on her already??
“I can read a person’s recent memories,” Dain admits quietly.
“They were looking for something,” Xaden says with complete conviction. “And it wasn’t riches. That’s not a gem mining district. Which begs the question, what do we have that they want so badly?”
Marked ones can’t gather in groups larger than three.
sticking to the shadows that wrap around me,
Oh xaden <3 his shadows keeping her safe from being seen by the others.
“Keep what you know but recite whatever they tell you to.”
“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?”
“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.”
“Andarnaurram.” The sweet, high voice of the golden fills my mind. “Andarna for short.”
“They’re a mated pair, Tairn and Sgaeyl. The strongest bonded pair in centuries.”
Violet, he’s not the most powerful rider of our generation. You are.”
“I’m proud you’re mine.” Andarna’s voice wavers, the blinks of her eyes becoming slower. “Even if I need a bath.”
“Should I get the wingleader?” Tairn flat-out laughs in my head.
There’s nowhere in existence you could go that I wouldn’t find you, Violence.” The promise should be a threat, but it’s not. It’s too damned comforting for that.
“Because it hurts to think we’re the kind of kingdom that would do this. It hurts to rearrange everything you think you know. Lies are comforting. Truth is painful.”
“Brennan?” She stares at her brother in open-mouthed shock. Brennan just grins and opens his arms. “Welcome to the revolution, Violet.”
