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which is funny because I remember your father doing a bit of research about the second Krovlan uprising, and he mentioned something about feathertails, but we can’t seem to find that tome.”
I know exactly where his notes are—in the one location he spent the majority of his after-hours time. But there’s something about Tairn’s warning that makes me simply unable to tell them.
I’m too busy trying to live up to whatever impossible standard she sets to ask myself if they’re even standards I give a shit about.”
But I don’t see Dain. Where the hell is Dain? He would never miss this.
“You’re on your own, riders. Your mission is simple: find and acquire, by any means necessary, the one thing that would be most advantageous to our enemies regarding the war effort. Leadership will serve as unbiased judges, and the winning squad will be awarded sixty points.”
I can see her reasoning. I just don’t agree with it, hence why I’m not exactly friendly with her.
“We’re going to break into my mother’s office.”
“Sure could use Xaden right about now.” “You’re doing great,” Andarna assures me in the happiest of tones. I swear, nothing bothers her. She’s the most fearless kid I’ve ever met, and I grew up with Mira.
and I pick up the first, revealing a sharp dagger with an alloy-infused hilt and what looks to be a Tyrrish rune in the handle that she must be using as a letter opener or something.
Third Wing’s best offering is a stunned, wide-eyed scribe, stolen straight from his bed, and given the way his mouth isn’t moving… Yep, someone’s signet power takes away speech. The poor thing is going to be traumatized when they finally let him go.
Like, I could have sworn I saw a riot of dragons across the border during this attack.”
“I have it at Montserrat.
whatever would you do if you forgot a minute detail of how the gallant riders took out the army of wyvern and the venin who sucked the land dry of magic?”
It’s hard to remember sometimes that the third-years are the first riders who will serve with the children of the leaders of the Tyrrish uprising—an uprising that could have left our borders eventually defenseless and the innocent people of Navarre war casualties. Everyone in this room has become accustomed to Liam, Imogen…even Xaden. But those in active service have never flown with anyone marked by a rebellion relic.
The Tyrrish riders who remained loyal to Navarre during the uprising were promoted, not punished, and the riders who turned against king and country were killed or executed. And
“You haven’t even seen me start to be a dick.” My head turns so fast that it swims, and my mouth drops open as I stare at the side of Xaden’s face. That was his voice…in my fucking head.
“You never considered that it was you I couldn’t stay away from?”
“Do you boys just want to whip it out and measure? It would be faster.”
Is the quadrant really making Dain keep the memory reading secret? Had him reaching for my head the day Amber burned been a loss of control? How has he gotten this far without telling anyone what his signet is? I shake my head.
“Relax. It’s just me.” A ghost of a touch skims my cheek.
What had Sgaeyl said about signets? It reflects who you are at the core of your being. It makes sense. Mira is protective. Dain has to know everything. And Xaden…has secrets.
“I hope you didn’t get any ideas while we were in the dark there,” Xaden teases,
“Then shield him out the same way you do me—or start talking back,” Tairn grumbles. “You have the power to be a pain in the ass, too. Trust me.”
“Figure out which pathway into your mind is his.”
But when it’s time to take the gryphons out in the air, Tairn overpowers every other dragon in the room.
“You’re blowing it, Dain. I know how badly you want his job next year.” She points a finger at Xaden. “Don’t forget that we’ve grown up about ten feet apart. And you are blowing it, because what? You’re pissed that Violet bonded his dragon’s mate?”
“He might wield shadows, Violet, but give him his way, and you’ll become one.”
“Leave for me, Violet.”
“I will hate you for this.” “Yeah.” He nods, a flash of pure regret crossing his face as he draws away. “I can live with that.”
“I haven’t slept well since the night my father left Aretia to declare the secession.” My lips part. “That was more than six years ago.”
“Can’t know how to ruin someone without understanding them first,” he says quietly. I lift my gaze to find that his is already on me. “And is that still your plan?” Mira’s words have haunted me for two days. He flinches. “No.”
And there, swirling along the edge of the roofline, is a shadow of sparkling night. Xaden.
“There was considerable damage to the outpost, but we lost no riders at Montserrat.”
There’s a ruffle of air and then the hard feel of scales against the backs of my hands. I lean forward into Andarna’s shoulder, sagging against her. “She’s alive. She’s alive. She’s alive.” I repeat it until I believe it.
“Are you pushing for a reason?” Tairn asks. “Can you give me one not to?” “He cares for you. That’s already hard enough for him.” I scoff. “He cares about keeping me alive. There’s a difference.” “Not for him there isn’t.”
It’s the saddle strapped across his back that has me gawking.
“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.”
“Bet it would be even more awkward if I kissed you now, huh?” Yes, please. “The next time we kiss had better not be just to piss off Dain.” The next time had better only be because we want it. “Next time, huh?” His gaze lowers to my mouth again.
“The leather is a hazard on my chest if we take a fire attack, since your saddle would slide right off. But if you take a direct blast up there, sitting on a piece of metal isn’t going to save you.” I don’t bother pointing out that the only fire we’d be taking is from other dragons, which is a problem that doesn’t exist, since gryphons are all beak and claw.
Power crackles above me, swirls around me, wraps along my feet below me. I am the sky and the power of every storm that has ever been. I am infinite. A scream rips from my throat just as lightning splits the sky with a terrifying crack of thunder.
Jack falls down the mountainside in an avalanche of rock that I know he can’t survive.
Tairn roars with the unmistakable sound of pride. “Lightning wielder.”
My stomach heaves and a dark shadow envelops me, but it’s not Xaden. Tairn has folded his wings over us, closing out the world while I retch up everything I’ve eaten today. “You did what was necessary,” Tairn says, but it doesn’t stop my stomach from clenching and tightening again, trying its best to force up what’s not even there. “You saved your friend,” Andarna adds.
“You need to get some rest, don’t you?” “I’m proud you’re mine.”
“Yes.” His jaw flexes and his head bobs once. “I thought so, but I wasn’t sure until I saw you take that tower down.” He thought so? What the hell does that even mean?
If Sgaeyl is right, and signets reflect who we are at our core, then I’m exactly as Xaden nicknamed me…Violence. “By defeating invading armies before they get the chance to hurt civilians. You want to keep Rhiannon’s nephew alive in that little border village? This is how. You want to keep Mira alive when she’s behind enemy lines? This. Is. How. You are not just a weapon, Sorrengail. You are the weapon. You train this ability, own it, and you’ll have the power to defend an entire kingdom.”
Xaden turns to leave but pauses. “Thank you for saving Liam. He’s important to me.”
“Go,” Tairn urges. “But do not wallow in guilt, Silver One. Whatever you feel is natural. Allow yourself to feel it but then let it go. The wingleader made a valid point. With a signet like that, you are the best hope the kingdom has against the hordes of evil that seek to harm it. Rest and I will see you tomorrow. I’ll get my own saddle off.”
“Do not feel guilt that you cannot tell her. This secret belongs to dragonkind, not you,” Tairn warns. “No one has the right to risk our hatchlings. Not even you, Silver One.”
