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While I’d admired Liam upstairs, I am completely, utterly obsessed with Xaden. His eyes meet mine in the moonlight.
Closer. I need him closer. As though he can hear my thoughts,
A flash of light burns behind my closed eyes, followed by the boom of thunder. Thunder-snow isn’t uncommon around here, but damn does it summarize how this feels, wild and out of control.
But then he breaks the kiss with a sharp gasp, his brow furrowing with something akin to panic before he slams his eyes shut.
But I stay on my feet until his hands clasp my face. Agony fills every cell in my body as violent, vibrating energy rips through me with an intensity that makes it feel like he’s cleaving ligament from bone, muscle from tendon. I scream as I’m shaken by an internal force I don’t understand, as though he’s forcing his own power into my body, shocking me with a thousand stings of vibrating energy.
His sadistic grin and a red rim around his eyes
Whatever Jack is doing is transferring from me to them by touch.
It reflects who you are at the core of your being.
“You can ride me when the flesh rots off my bones, wingleader.”
“Lightning. Your signet is lightning, isn’t it?” He looks at me with such intensity, as though my answer is the key to whatever he needs. “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?
retrocognition—”
“Should I get the wingleader?” Tairn flat-out laughs in my head.
“Athebyne. You can’t know why or ask anything else, but that’s where we were.”
Others talk of a great evil that spread across the land as man became corrupted by dark magic and turned into creatures known as venin who created flocks of winged creatures called wyvern and scourged the land of all magic in the thirst for more power. Another talks about the dangers of wielding power from the ground instead of the skies, as one could easily start drawing magic from the earth and eventually be driven mad.
His touch is gentle when he cups my cheek.
I’m not going to survive this. I’m going to die right here in this bed. “Then I’m going to die with you,” he promises, kissing me. I’m so far gone, I didn’t even realize I said the words out loud, and then I remember that I don’t have to.
He turns to each wingleader, giving out orders, but glances in our direction—no doubt looking for Dain—before he turns toward Xaden. Something about the way his smile slips for a heartbeat makes the hair rise on the back of my neck.
Disappointment drops his shoulders. “Don’t go, Violet. Please. He’s going to get you killed.”
Dain looks horrified for a second but quickly masks it.
He swallows hard and leans in to whisper, “I’ll miss you, Violet.”
“Because the only thing that kills venin is the very thing powering our wards.”
“No. Your mother probably has one for the same reason you should. To defend against venin.” There’s so much pity in his eyes that my chest tightens.
Purple robes. Distended red veins spidering all around bright red eyes. Creepy as shit.”
one guy with a giant-ass staff,”
rivers of red veins fanning in every direction around soulless eyes consumed by magic. His face is gaunt, with sharp cheekbones and thin lips, a gnarled hand gripping a long red cane made of some misshapen wood.