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A dragon without its rider is a tragedy. A rider without their dragon is dead.
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“I fucking hate you.” The words are past my lips before I can shut my mouth. “That doesn’t make you special.”
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“I would strongly recommend you rethink your actions,” a voice—his voice—demands from across the field to my right. 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.
“My name is Tairneanach, son of Murtcuideam and Fiaclanfuil, descended from the cunning Dubhmadinn line.” He stands to his full height, bringing me eye level with the canopy of trees around the clearing, and I squeeze a little tighter with my thighs. “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.”
“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.”
“They’re a mated pair, Tairn and Sgaeyl. The strongest bonded pair in centuries.”
“You’re a menace. Stop it,” I say. “Tell him if he harms you, I’ll scorch the ground where he stands.” “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Tairn.”
“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.”
It's about damn time
Xaden fills the doorway like some kind of dark, avenging angel, the messenger of the queen of the gods. He’s fully dressed, his face a mask of veritable rage as shadows curl from the walls on either side of him, hanging in midair.
“Dragons don’t make mistakes.”
And that’s not Ridoc lounged in the chair next to my bed, glaring at me like he’d like to kill me himself. It’s Xaden. His hair is tousled, like he’s been tugging at it, and he’s flipping a dagger end over end, catching it by the tip without so much as looking at it before sheathing it at his side. “Oranges?”
“When exactly did you decide not to ruin me?” “Maybe it was when I saw Oren holding a knife to your throat,” he says. “Or maybe it was when I realized the bruises on your neck were fingerprints and wanted to kill them all over again just so I could do it slowly. Maybe it was the first time I recklessly kissed you or when I realized I’m fucked because I can’t stop thinking about doing more than just kissing you.” My
“You can ride me when the flesh rots off my bones, wingleader.”
“Fuck, that stubborn, feisty look always makes me want to kiss you.” Xaden’s expression remains bland, bored even, but his eyes heat as his gaze drops to my mouth. “And you say this now, where people will see if you actually do.” My breath catches. “When did I ever give you the impression that I give a fuck what people think about me?” A corner of his mouth rises, and now it’s all I can concentrate on, damn him. “I only care what they think about you.”
“I’m proud you’re mine.” Andarna’s voice wavers, the blinks of her eyes becoming slower. “Even if I need a bath.”
“Get the fuck away from her with that nonsense.” Xaden pushes Dain’s chest and tugs me out of his arms, then grips my shoulders, turning me to face him.
“I always fucking want you.” He groans as I squeeze.
Then he lifts his head, seizes my gaze with his, and I recognize the wild need in those gold-flecked depths. It mirrors my own. “You walk into a room, and I can’t look away. I get anywhere near you, and this is what happens. Instantly hard. Fucking hell, I can barely think when you’re around.” He rocks his hips into my hand, and my grip tightens along with my stomach. “Wanting you is not the problem here.”
“Fuck me, this hair,” he says, then hovers his mouth over mine. “And this mouth. All I ever want to do is kiss you, even when you piss me off.”
“Stop being so fucking honorable and fuck me, Xaden.”
Finding a jar on my nightstand with a handful of spring violets? My heart swells. I’m in so much fucking trouble.
“Well, it’s apparent that you’re not ready to admit where this is going. So yeah, I think it’s best we agree that this was just a onetime thing.” I force my shoulders to shrug. “We both needed to blow off some steam, and we did, right?” “Right,”
Good for you girl
before heading back across my room. “I never figured you for a liar, Xaden.” I shove the halves at his chest. “You can get me a new one when you’re ready to come to your senses. Then we’ll blow off some steam.” I throw the aggravating man out.
“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” His voice lowers. “If not, I’m a fool, because you are magnificently beautiful.”
I move between his thighs and run my fingers through his hair. He closes his eyes and leans into my touch, and I swear, I feel my heart crack wide open. “Now I take care of you.” His eyes fly open and gods, are they beautiful.
“I don’t deserve you.” His arm curls around my hips and he tugs me closer. “But I’m going to keep you all the same.” “Good.” I lean in and brush my lips over his. “Because I think I’m in love with you.” My heart beats erratically, and panic claws up my rib cage. I shouldn’t have said it. His eyes flare wide and his arms tighten around me. “You think? Or you know?” Be brave. Even if he doesn’t feel the same, at least I will have spoken my truth. “I know. I’m so wildly in love with you that I can’t imagine what my life would even look like without you in it. And I probably shouldn’t have said
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“I fucking need you, Violet. Right now. And I don’t need anyone, so I’m not quite sure how to handle this feeling, but I’m giving it my best. And if you don’t want this tonight, that’s fine, but I’m going to need you to walk out that door right now, because if you don’t, I’m going to have you naked on your back in the next two minutes.”
“I fucking love your hair. If you ever want to bring me to my knees or win an argument, just let it down. I’ll get the point.”
His eyes darken. “I’m going to keep you,” he promises, just like he did last night. Or was it this morning? “You’re mine, Violet.” I lift my chin. “Only if you’re mine.” “I’ve been yours for longer than you could ever imagine.”
“You love me, and—” “Loved,” I correct him, sidestepping so I can get some fucking space and then taking it. “Love!” he shouts, stopping me in my tracks and earning us a glance from every rider within hearing distance. “You love me.”
