Spotless

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/49875790.

Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Fandom: The Empyrean - Rebecca Yarros
Relationship: Xaden Riorson/Violet Sorrengail
Character: Xaden Riorson, Violet Sorrengail, Bodhi Durran, Garrick Tavis, Imogen
(Empyrean), Brennan Sorrengail, Mira Sorrengail, Dain Aetos, Ridoc
(Empyrean), Rhiannon Matthias, Sawyer (Empyrean), Fen Riorson
Additional Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Healing, Battle, Action, Personal Growth, Love,
Reunions
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2023-09-05 Updated: 2023-11-11 Words: 131,563 Chapters:
22/?

Spotless
by sarahkwut

Summary

Violet Sorrengail is now a traitor. She has chosen a side and is headed back into the belly of
the beast - Basgiath War College - much to the dismay of the presumed dead Xaden
Riorson who is busy leading the revolution - and trying to win back Violet. Violet must
walk the thin line between loyalty to country and loyalty to what's right while protecting
those who mean the most to her.

Before it's too late.

***Picks up immediately after Fourth Wing, may contain spoilers***

Notes

I have no business posting a full-length fic a month before my first novel is released and
while working a full-time job, but I'm several chapters in and I can't stop writing and my
one-shot was received with friendly faces so... may as well share it?

I heard the song "Spotless" by Zach Bryan featuring The Lumineers while trying to figure
out a title and I could only see Xaden and Violet. Give it a listen - working on a playlist to
accompany this story!

See the end of the work for more notes

 Chapter 1

I ain't spotless, neither is you

For once in my life, I'm gonna see it through
If you want spotless, I'll always losе
I don't want love, lover, I want the truth

- Zach Brian feat. The Lumineers, "Spotless"

In the end, no one is happy.

No one was going to be happy, all things considered, but absolutely no one is happy.

Especially Xaden.

Especially Xaden.

I wonder vaguely if this is the first time he’s ever lost a fight.

He won every time until you came along, Tairn supplies, helpful as always. I humph and work to
ignore the steely glare Xaden is leveling on me. He’s livid and I couldn’t care less.

I’m going back to Basgiath.

Imogen and Bodhi are going with me.

Xaden is not.

Xaden and Garrick and the others are, officially, presumed dead, just the way command wanted.
Garrick thinks it's all great fun and is already cracking jokes about how he’s going to unveil his
alive form when the moment comes.

Xaden is furious.

It was my idea. I wanted to go back alone. I had a whole story mapped out about being tricked and
how they planned to get me away from Basgiath so they could kill me in an act of revenge. I used
my signet to destroy them, there was nothing left of their remains to recover. I’m General
Sorrengail’s daughter and I’m fucking powerful. It would be believable.

Xaden had said “Absolutely not,” and all hell broke loose.

He would not hear reason which, among the many valid ones I had, command believing him dead
is a hell of a lot safer than them knowing he’s alive. We fought – loudly, publicly – for a
substantial amount of time before Brennan wrangled us into, well, not submission because
apparently neither of us is capable of submitting, at least not in a war room, but into some
semblance of mediation.

And then Brennan had agreed with me and set Xaden off all over again.

We compromised.

I would go back with my spun-up story. Imogen and Bodhi would return with me. Imogen because
of her signet which would in turn help protect us against Dain. Bodhi because Gods forbid I go
back without a bodyguard and Garrick can’t do it because he’s a third year and would have been
sent to the front lines. They would say they had no idea what Xaden was up to, that when they
realized what was happening, they helped defend me, chose my side. Imogen would give us false
memories to help should Dain’s powers be called upon.

I’m also taking Sgaeyl.

That’s on Xaden’s insistence.

One of the hiccups to our plan is – was – our bonded dragons. A dragon without its rider is a
tragedy. A rider without their dragon is dead. He’d pulled out one of my favorite defenses –
quoting the Codex – and then convinced a disgruntled Sgaeyl that it was for the best for them to be
separated temporarily – he had emphasized that part several times, each time with his eyes on me –
rather than try to sneak through the skies just so she and Tairn could be together. His reasoning
hinges on the idea that Sgaeyl can appear to be in mourning for him – the tragedy part – and would
hear no arguments when anyone, especially me, tried to remind him of the dead part.

There was also the whole theory about “you die, I die.” If Xaden dies, wasn’t I supposed to die and
vice versa? I was ready for that argument though because of course Xaden was going to pull it as a
reason as to why I should not go back to Basgiath. I had informed him that my talking points would
be that first and foremost, the whole “one dies, the other dies” thing was just a theory, followed by
something about Sgaeyl being against his plan to kill me and siding with Tairn, therefore breaking
the bond. He’d tried to say it sounds unbelievable, but so little is known about the bond between
riders that have bonded dragons that he didn’t have much of a counter argument and so that
particular point had died on the table right along with Xaden’s hopes of keeping me in Aretia.

So now I have three dragons. Sort of. Sgaeyl isn’t mine. Her allegiances are to Xaden - she has
been very clear about that – and I know this house of cards we’ve built can’t stand long. I just need
it to stand long enough.

I’m packing to leave when Xaden enters my room. He doesn’t knock, doesn't ask to come in, just –
enters. Like he owns the place.

Technically, he does.

I can always count on Tairn to keep me honest. He’s right though, Xaden does own this place – his
family’s fortress. And if we’re continuing to be technical, I’m in his bedroom. I kicked him out
after I came to and remembered everything that happened between us.

Xaden owns a castle. Or he inherited a castle. Or something. I don’t know.

One more thing about him I had no idea about.

I know nothing about him.

“I don’t like this.”

“So I’ve heard.” I don’t look at him, continue strategically filling my pack with supplies. I’ve
gotten quite good at packing for flight, for battle. Mira would be proud.

“It’s not too late to change the plan.”

“The plan is already in motion.”

I feel his shadows. They’re pulsing around him, eager to rip away. It’s the tension wound tight
through his body. He’s a band pulled past taut. Anything more and he’ll snap in grand fashion. I
know me well enough to know I’ll probably be the ‘anything more.’

“I can’t let you leave like this, Violet.”

His tone is different now. Softer. The desperation that he has disguised as rage all day is front and
center. Time is running out to convince me to stay.

In Aretia.

With him.

“Xaden…” I sigh.

He’s there, behind me. He’s not touching me – I realize then that he has been very careful not to
touch me since we broke up – but he’s standing so close I can feel every inch of him against me all
the same. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to breathe, as affected as ever by his mere presence.
Power crackles through me. It’s poetic, really, his shadows. My light. Opposites in every way. Oil
and water. Fire and ice.

Light and darkness.

“I meant what I said,” he almost whispers. “You gave me your heart. I’m keeping it.”

“It’s not yours – or anyone else’s – to keep.”

“Like hell it’s not.” He picks up my braid, careful, so careful I barely feel it. I don’t know what it is
with him and my hair, but it has always transfixed him. I’d like to know why, but I doubt he’ll tell
me. Telling people things isn’t his strong suit. “I told you there is no me without you. I meant that,
too.”

I work like hell to keep my body’s reaction to his proximity contained. It would be so easy. All it
would take from me is the slightest of leans backward and he would have me in his arms, crushed
against his chest, holding on for dear life. I can’t do that, though. His betrayal is still raw, and it
hurts. It’s the kind of pain that I can’t put a mental shield around the way I can with my physical
pain. This is soul-deep hurt, the kind that can only be caused by the people you love the most. And
it’s not just the betrayal. It’s not even mostly the betrayal. It’s that he has consistently kept me at
arm’s length, close but not too close, walls up, only a window cracked ever so slightly and only on
occasion while I’ve thrown open every door and window and knocked down every wall I have for
him. I need more from him than he’s willing to give.

“I can’t do this, Xaden.”

“Stay.”

It’s not a request or a demand or an order.

It’s a plea.

He’s not asking me to stay in Aretia.

He’s asking me to stay with him.

“You know I can’t.”

There’s a thick silence. I don’t move. Neither does he. I fight every instinct I have not to turn
around. He’s struggling to hold himself together. I’ll break if I face him.
“If anything happens, I’ll be a full day away, without a dragon. I can’t get to you, Violet.”

He’s going to fall apart when I leave. I know it. I can sense it. I’ve wondered in quiet moments if
the bond between Xaden and I is deeper than just dragons, deeper than just two people who…
Well, I have feelings for him. I don’t know what the hell he feels or thinks or believes or anything
else. Walls up, doors bolted, a sole window only cracked when he feels like it.

You know how he feels, girl.

Sgaeyl is going to be a ball of fun without Xaden.

Still, I can feel that my leaving is going to hurt Xaden in a very real, very deep way. I don’t want
that. I don’t want to hurt him, no matter how much he’s hurt me. I don’t have a choice though. This
is bigger than us. As mad as I am at him, a logical part of me can understand why he kept things
from me. I can only hope there’s a logical part of him that knows me going back to Basgiath is the
right next thing.

I finally turn to him. He’s as unguarded as I’ve ever seen him and maybe I’ve finally caught him
with a few of those doors open. The deep well of fear he houses but hides so well is plainly on
display. His eyes are haunted with demons he won’t share and for a moment, my guilt is immense.
He’s lost Liam. I’ve broken up with him. Sgaeyl is leaving with me. I can’t bring Liam back, but I
could fix two of the three.

I’m not going to.

Although I’d very much like to leave Sgaeyl. He wouldn’t allow it though. His insistence that
Sgaeyl goes with me is solely because he can’t go with me. If he can’t be with me, his dragon is
the next best thing.

“I’ll be fine.” He opens his mouth to argue, but I meet his eyes and whatever he sees reflected in
mine stops his counterpoint in its tracks. “You have to trust me.”

It’s salt in his wounds. I see it in the way he recoils. Not physically. Physically he’s still right here,
as imposing and immovable as ever. It’s whatever is going on in his mind, in his heart, that sends
him staggering backward. My words are a low blow, but I don’t mean them to be. It’s just the truth
– he needs to let me go back to Basgiath, and he needs to trust me not to get myself killed. Not to
give away this massive secret we’re hiding – and all the other secrets under its umbrella like dead
brothers and rebuilding territories – until we’re ready.

“I trust you with my life.” His voice sounds like it’s been dragged through gravel. “I want you to
trust me with yours again.”

“I do trust you with my life.” The truth. If I had to pick just one person that I trusted implicitly with
my life, it would be Xaden. Not even Mira or Brennan make the cut. Xaden is always going to be
the person I pick in that scenario and not because – or maybe in spite of – our dragons being
bonded. “It’s my heart I don’t trust you with.”

And that is the final blow.

He does step back this time. His eyes are entirely black, not a speck of gold to be found, and yet I
can still read every emotion in them. Guilt. Anger. Fear. Panic.

Love.

Not that he’s ever said it.

“You will one day,” he vows. He takes a deep, steadying breath. “Send word when you make it
back to Basgiath.”

He turns, walks away. I should let him leave, but I can’t.

“Xaden.”

He stops in the doorway but doesn’t turn around.

“Please don’t, Violet.” That gravel-dredged voice is no more than a whisper. “Don’t make me turn
around. I can’t watch you leave.”

I let him go.

 Chapter 2
Chapter Notes

Wow. Did not expect such a response - thank you so much! I don't usually update on
Wednesdays, but this one felt like it needed to get out there sooner. Angsty Xaden
ahead.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

I have an office.

Who in the gods right mind thinks I should have an office?

No one.

It was my dad’s, and I claimed it. It’s been my sanctuary these last few days and I have zero plans
to leave it tonight. Plus, it faces south and Basgiath is north. Bonus, my desk chair sits turned away
from the room’s one very large window. No chance I’ll have to watch them fly away tonight.

No chance I’ll have to watch Violet fly away tonight.

I pull open the bottom drawer, ignore all the papers and maps shoved into it that I need to go
through, and reach for the bottle I stashed in there earlier, knowing full well I’d need it. I screw the
top off and don’t bother with a glass. It’s just me – it’s always just me – as I turn up the brown
liquid. I purposefully take too big of a swig, let the surplus of liquid burn, burn, burn its way down.

There’s a knock on my door.

“Go away.”

My tone is harsh, the kind of tone that if I heard it, I’d think twice about disobeying. Or, well, I
probably wouldn’t. I’d probably carry on with whatever the hell plan I had that sent me knocking
on the door in the first place. My dad always said someone was going to knock me in the jaw for
not minding my own business one day. Turns out, that someone is a five-foot-nothing brilliant
woman with silver-tipped hair who knows just the right words to break my heart all over again. I’d
rather she’d swung for the jaw. It would hurt a hell of a lot less.

The handle turns and I curse under my breath as I reach for the bottle again. It’ll be Garrick, here to
check on me or else sharing whatever new asinine idea he’s had for how he will reveal his
resurrection when the time comes. I’m in no mood for his shit.

It’s Brennan.

Well, fuck.

“Unless you’re here to tell me your sister changed her mind, get the fuck out.”

“Their riot is en route,” he replies. I appreciate his phrasing. A “they left” or a “they're gone”
would have made me release the grip on the ledge I’m barely holding on to. “Their riot is en route”
is a much nicer way of saying the woman I love has left me.
And took my fucking dragon with her.

Your idea, Commandant.

Don’t fucking remind me, I snap back at Sgaeyl. And don’t call me that.

You are what you are.

I turn up the bottle again. I’m aware of Brennan’s watchful eye.

“Get out.”

Brennan lowers himself to one of my chairs. Fucking Sorrengails never listen.

“We don’t have much time left,” he says. “You sped up the inevitable by bringing Violet here.”

“There was always going to be a war,” I say. “Best we get it over with. Now get out.”

“You’re the Commanding General, Riorson.”

“Well the fuck aware.”

How many times have I dropped an F bomb tonight? I overuse the word anyway, but when I’m in a
mood like this, it’s my default setting. You can use it as a gauge. The more times I say ‘fuck,’ the
worse my mood.

Brennan is fucked if he crosses me tonight.

He motions at me.

“You can’t do this if you’re going to lead an army.”

My grip tightens on the bottle. I’ll admit that I’ve leaned on the bottle a little too much over the last
few days. It’s a damned wonder I’m not strung out all the fucking time with the responsibility I
shoulder, the lies I have to keep straight. Never mind the woman I worked so hard to keep at arm’s
distance only to fall at her feet just to lose her all the same. My own fucking fault. It’s my own
fucking fault a substantial number of people are either slipping through the shadows of a rebellion
or else risking life and limb in the Rider’s Quadrant. I stay quiet. Maybe if I don’t talk, he’ll leave.

Except he’s a Sorrengail so he won’t.

Sorrengails never fucking listen.

“Violet will be okay.” That deserves another drink. I turn up the bottle. “Our mother always
underestimated her. Our father and Mira tried too hard to protect her, although Dad at least laid the
pieces for her to find. She’s becoming who she’s meant to be. You’ll have to trust her, Xaden. She
can take care of herself.”

I’m so sick of hearing about fucking trust right now.

It’s my heart I don’t trust you with.

Rip mine out and stomp on it, why don’t you, Violence?

Except it’s already in the palm of her hand, has been since, well, I don’t fucking know when. She
can’t rip it out of its already hers.
I keep to my pledge of silence. I want to be alone. I am alone.

None of us are having a good time.

I slam Sgaeyl out. I am not in the mood.

“We need to start planning in earnest,” Brennan continues. “Violet will be able to feed us
information, maybe get her hands on some classified reports. We’re going to be outnumbered, and
we’ll be fighting on two fronts, Navarre and the Venin. That’s assuming the fliers will keep their
word of allegiance. We need to consider how we can recruit more people to our side…”

“Why me?” I interrupt his laundry list of things that need to be done.

Since I’m lying down and wallowing in the absolute pit of hell, may as well ask the hard questions
while I’m here. Can’t get worse. I hope.

“What do you mean?” Brennan counters.

“Why am I Commandant General? No one asked me if I wanted it. There was no vote, no proof of
worth, no great war victory to deem me battle-tested. I’m twenty-three fucking years old and didn’t
even finish school. Why am I the commandant?” I lock eyes with him. “You should do it. You’re
older, have frontline experience. Do me a favor. Take over.”

Brennan looks baffled. Then he stands and I’m dumb enough to think he’s finally going to leave
me alone but of course I’m wrong because Sorrengails never fucking listen.

“First of all, you’ve had enough of this.” He snatches my bottle away. I make a grab for it and huh,
maybe that stuff is stronger than I thought because the room spins, and I have to sit back in my
chair to wait for the spinning stop. “Second of all, what in the – to use your favorite – fuck are you
talking about? ‘Why me?’ You want a list of reasons? Because I’ve got them.”

“Why not?” I shrug. I’m desperate for someone to tell me why this is a good idea. “Let’s hear it.”

Brennan draws himself up in a way that reminds me of Violet and gods, I miss her. I know she just
left, but I haven’t… Days… I stop that line of thought in its tracks. I absolutely cannot think of all
the things I did and didn’t do when it comes to Violet right now.

“First of all, this fortress is yours.” He waves his hand around the room again. “Your father was a
good man, Riorson. You’re a lot like him.” The muscle in my jaw draws even tighter. I’d give just
about anything to be like my father. Judging by how things are going, I’m doing a bang-up job of
doing everything absolutely wrong however. “Forced or not, you were meant to be a rider. Deny it
or not, you fucking love it.”

He’s got me there, but I’m in no mood to admit it.

“You’re the best rider to come out of that place since,” he smirks, “me.” I roll my eyes. “You care.
You want a better world for these people. And didn’t graduate? It was what, ten damn days away?
And how many times did they call you out? Never mind that you fought the venin and wyvern and
won. You have so much power in your blood that it literally bleeds off of you in the form of
shadows.”

He’s got me there, too. Even now, in my current state, my shadows are pouring off me, swirling
around me. I should use the things to get him the fuck out of my office.

“I could go on and on about your physical prowess or the fact that your dragon is Sgaeyl, but you
already know all of that. This war means something to you, Riorson. It may have started off as
avenging your father or carrying on what he started or some noble cause related to that, but this
cause has become personal because you get it. You see it. You know how wrong it is and you want
to change it.”

He puts the bottle on a shelf, crosses his arms, and levels me with a stare so like Violet’s
disapproving look I squirm.

“None of that fucking matters though, does it?” he asks. “Because you have one hundred and seven
scars on your back and if you don’t do this, they will all be for nothing. I think I know you well
enough to know that’s not what you want.” I want to break eye contact, but I can’t. The scars on
my back tingle, something that haven’t done in ages, almost like they’re agreeing with him.
Because he is, of course, right. “Betraying my sister’s trust will have been for nothing.”

Well, fuck.

Looks like another Sorrengail knows exactly what to say, too.

I lean forward, rest my elbows on the desk, and drop my head to my hands. To Brennan’s credit, he
lets me. He’s always been good like that – able to read a room, know when to push, when to pull
back. Anyone else tonight, even Garrick, would have fled when they found me in such a temper.
Not Brennan. He knew that was the last thing I actually needed. Just like Violet had known I didn't
need to be alone on that parapet on the anniversary of my father's death.

And yeah, he knew exactly what I needed to hear, too.

When I finally lift my head again, he’s sitting across from me once more. Of course he didn’t leave
because Sorrengails never fucking listen.

“Guess I’m the commandant,” I say.

Brennan nods his agreement. I blow out a heavy sigh and sit back in my chair. There’s so much to
do, but I just – can’t. Not tonight.

“She’ll be okay,” Brennan says as though he can read my thoughts. “She’s smart. You know that.”
I nod. Violet is the smartest person I’ve ever encountered. “She’ll do what she needs to do, then
she’ll come back here, and she’ll help us win this war.”

That’s all I want. Violet back here. With me. Winning the war would be icing on the cake so long
as she’s here with me.

“I can’t get to her,” I say, letting Brennan see me vulnerable. “If something happens, I’m a full day
away from her with no dragon.”

“Sending Sgaeyl with her was questionable,” Brennan says.

Questionable, yes, but I had to do something. Sgaeyl isn’t happy about it and Tairn and Andarna
are more than capable of looking out for her, but it helps a fraction of something to know my
dragon is with her. Even if Sgaeyl isn’t with me. Even if our story about bonds and death and
whatnot is fragile at best.

“It’s done,” I say. “I’m grounded until further notice.”

“Join the club,” Brennan huffs. I feel some empathy for him despite my current mood. He’s been
without a dragon for six years. Sort of. His own dragon is nearby, always ready for action, but due
to the whole presumed dead thing, they have been grounded since my father supposedly killed him.
I reckon it might be worse to have your dragon right there and not be able to engage it. He
considers me. “How long have you been in love with her?”

I sigh. I knew this question was coming at some point.

“I don’t know,” I admit. “It just – happened. It was inevitable.”

I looked at her on that parapet with her mismatched boots and that was that. Hindsight and all that
bullshit. I really think that’s the moment I fell for her. I just didn’t recognize that the swoop in my
stomach had everything to do with something inside me recognizing something inside of her and
nothing to do with the fact that she was supposed to be my sworn enemy. I know when I realized I
was in love with her. That night. When she said it and it cracked open the vault I was trying to keep
my heart in. When she gave voice to what I feel every time I look at her and I was so very certain
that I love her, too. I’d give just about anything to go back and not push her away, not try to do the
noble thing or the honorable thing or whatever the hell I thought I was doing and be with Violet.
I’ve already lost months with her and now I’m losing gods knows how much more time.

“For what it’s worth, I approve.”

I snort in disbelief.

“You approve of your baby sister being with the son of a revolutionary, the same son that ended up
becoming the leader of said revolution?”

“I do,” Brennan nods, and damned if he doesn’t mean it. I sigh again.

“She wants nothing to do with me,” I tell him. “You know that.”

“She needs space,” Brennan says. “It’s not just you that betrayed her. I let her think I was dead.
Dain chose law and order over her.” I literally hiss at the mention of Aetos. One of my greatest
desires in life right after getting Violet back and winning this war is the opportunity to rip him limb
from limb. Nothing quick about it. Slow and painful. “And our mother… She’s never treated
Violet well. There’s a whole lot of betrayal and neglect for Violet to unpack there. Let her sort it
out, Riorson. She’ll make her way back to you.”

I want to believe him.

Gods I want to believe him.

“You tell her your theory?” I ask.

“No,” Brennan admits. “I wanted to, but she was already so rocked by everything that I couldn’t.”
He looks me in the eye again. “You’re not wrong. It’s hard it is to tell her the truth when you know
it’ll break her heart.”

“Maybe I’ll tell her for you,” I muse. “Tilt the scales a modicum of an inch back in my favor.”

“It’ll save me the trouble,” Brennan quips. That leveling look that’s so much like Violet’s is back
again. “I get it, Riorson. You have the weight of this revolution on your shoulders. You’ve lost a
lot. Seen a lot. Then you had to go and fall in love in the middle of it and things went sideways
there, too. You get to be pissed off and angry. But you’re also the commandant.”

I get the message. I can have a shit day. But I’m also the leader of this mess we’ve found ourselves
in. I don’t have a choice but to hold it together.
If I’m going to hold it together, I need to fall apart.

“Let me have one night,” I request. “Let me have tonight to drink too much and wallow in self-pity
and loneliness and loss. I’ll pull my shit together in time for breakfast tomorrow morning and I’ll
be the fucking commandant Navarre has always been afraid I could be. Just let me have one
night.”

I think he’s going to tell me no, be all Sorrengail self-righteous. Instead, he puts the liquor bottle
back on my desk.

Gods, I have a desk.

In my office.

Which is in a castle, Sgaeyl adds. I ignore her. She’s going to be pissed at me for weeks. Get in
line, dragon.

“For the record, you’re second in command,” I say as Brennan finally stands to leave.

“Third,” he corrects. He grins at me. “Violet’s your second.”

“If that’s the angle we’re taking, then we all work for her,” I say and I mean it. He just laughs and
I can’t help but think he has no idea what his baby sister is capable of these days. He hasn’t seen
her in action. He hasn’t seen her all fearless and brave and brimming with power and throwing
daggers with frightening accuracy.

Nope, can’t think about that.

When I’m finally alone, I swivel the chair to face the window, liquor in hand. It’s pitch black so all
I can do is stare into the nothingness.

I can’t help it.

Everything okay?

I’m going to have to put a cap on how many times you get to ask that or any variation of it per day
while we’re gone, Sgaeyl replies.

I’ll ask as often as I want to, I inform her.

Everything is fine.

I’ve got her, Tairn adds, and I find comfort in his answer which is generous coming from him.
Even he knows how hard this is for me, to let her go, to let my dragon go. Sgaeyl can be motherly
when she wants to be which isn’t often. She’d feed me white lies to try to help me stay calm which
given my track record with Violet, I guess that’s another reason she bonded me. Our white lying
habit. Tairn will shoot straight.

Thank you, I say, returning the generosity. Pretty sure I’m one wrong move away from him
torching me at the moment, so I may as well try to build up some good karma. Keep her safe.

You don’t have to ask.

I close my eyes and ground myself. I’m on that hill, as calm as I’m capable of feeling these days
which isn’t calm at all. I see Sgaeyl’s power off to my right, shadows slinking through the trees.
Above me, there used to be an endless clear blue sky. It’s still blue, but it’s a dome of brilliant
 lightning these days. It’s Violet, and here, she’s close. Here, she’s a whisper away. I reach out, just
to see if I can.

She’s wrapped her lightning in glass.

A shield so I can’t access her.

I turn up the bottle and drink.

Chapter End Notes

Big sad boi energy rolling off of Xaden. I keep saying it, but he has been fascinating to
write. So many layers and with so much unknown about his past and connections at
the moment, there is so much to explore while we wait for Iron Flame...

A few questions about Brennan - don't you worry. We'll get his back story as we go.
He's also a lot of fun to write. I do believe him and Xaden are 'bros.

Up next, Violet's return to Basgiath featuring a mental chat with a drunk Xaden.

Let me know your thoughts! Than you so much for reading!

 Chapter 3
Chapter Notes

It's back to Basgiath we go...

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Our return is as chaotic as I thought it would be. We walk into the Qudrant and pandemonium
explodes. Everyone assumed our entire unit was dead and here three of us are, a few new scars but
seemingly no worse for the wear. I’m engulfed by Rhiannon, Ridoc, and Sawyer and for just a
moment, I’m so damned happy to see them that I forget I’m supposed to be selling a very fake
story involving death and deceit – at least death and deceit in an even greater capacity than is
already involved in this story. I’m not lying, if you think about it. Liam and Soleil are dead, and
I’ve been deceived on all fronts. If you think about it like that, I’m just stretching the truth.

A lot.

It’s Imogen’s subtle but pointed look that reminds me I have a part to play.

“What happened?” Rhiannon asks. There are tears in her eyes. “We thought you were dead!” She
looks around, notices for the first time that it’s just me, Imogene, and Bodhi. “Where is everyone
else? Liam? Riorson?”

I meet her eyes as I’m slammed with a wall of grief. For Liam, mostly, but also for Xaden and what
would never be.

“Dead,” I manage. She gasps and covers her mouth.

“Dead?” Ridoc echoes. He shakes his head in disbelief. “No. No. Not possible. Liam is… Liam.
Riorson is… He’s death itself! And Garrick! Garrick was with them… Him too?” I nod as real
tears – tears for Liam, and a few for Soleil, too – spring to my eyes.

A few tears also fall for my relationship – or whatever that was.

“Oh, Vi,” Rhiannon says as she pulls me back into a hug. “I am so sorry. You and Riorson…”

“He lied to me.”

I have to sell this. The lying is true. I lean into the dramatics, let the tears form and my lips quiver.
My grief is real, and I can use it to help us.

“They were going to kill me.” Rhiannon gasps. A soft ‘no!’ comes from Ridoc. “They were going
to make it look like a part of War Games. They had me cornered, but I used my signet and…” I
shudder, and the fake memory Imogen planted feels so real as it plays out in my mind. “I was able
to escape. Imogen and Bodhi helped me. They were going to kill them, too, for trying to help me.”
I swallow hard. “They called them traitors.”

It hits me then. I am, at least by Navarre standards, a traitor now, too.

“Violet!”
Dain rushes through the crowd, shoving people out of the way like ragdolls to get to me, and just
the sight of him makes me nauseous. This is going to be the acting job of my life.

“Dain!”

I let him wrap me in a bone-crushing hug and I hate it. I hate him. I hate how hard he’s hugging
me, how he’s smashed me against his chest in a way that reminds me I don’t fit with him, how I
know – I know – he let me go with Xaden fully aware that he was sending me to my death right
alongside them. Killing people is still hard for me, but it’s incredible what rage will do for a girl.
Right now, part of me very much wants to kill Dain.

“You’re safe. You’re alive. I can’t believe it. You’re safe.”

He says it over and over like a prayer. Like by saying it, he’s absolving himself of his sins. The
gods can forgive him all they want. I’ll gladly keep his score and repay him when the time is right.
I’m rigid in his arms and desperately want to get as far away from him as I possibly can.

Like back to Aretia.

With Xaden.

Who I both love and hate and miss and never want to see again.

Gods, this is awful.

“Sorrengail!”

Melgren – fucking Melgren – leads a host of people that includes professors, Dain’s father, and my
mother. Dain lets me go and stands at attention like the good little soldier he is.

Fuck. Him.

Fuck every single person standing in front of me pretending like they have our best interests at
heart.

“We believed your unit to be dead.”

I find my mother’s eyes. She’s stoic. Not an ounce of emotion. Not an inkle of relief that her child
is alive. I wonder what she’ll say if and when she finds out Brennan is alive. He was always her
favorite. Instinct tells me she’s going to like him a hell of a lot less when she finds out what he’s
been up to.

“The rest of them are,” I say. It hurts – physically hurts – to say it. Liam is dead. So is Soleil. I
have to pretend Xaden, Garrick, and the others are.

I have to pretend Xaden is dead.

Even though I know he’s not, even though I’m furious at him, just the idea of him being dead splits
my already broken heart in half.

I compartmentalize that thought. I need to focus.

I also need to protect Imogen and Bodhi.

Especially Bodhi.
That’s Sgaeyl and I understand. Bodhi is the only blood relative Xaden has. He can’t lose him,
especially after he lost Liam. Bodhi may be here as my pseudo bodyguard, but I’m responsible for
him.

I go to Bodhi and Imogen and position myself between them, slightly in front of them. I will protect
them. It occurs to me, in this moment, that at least part of Xaden’s job – the part he hid from me –
is now mine. I’m responsible for keeping the marked ones safe, for protecting Aretia, for
protecting those they think are dead, my brother included. I compartmentalize that, too. That’s
going to take some wrestling with.

“They helped me.” I see the murderous glint in Melgren’s eyes. He’s practically salivating at the
idea of being able to remove two more marked ones from this earth. Let him try.

Easy, Silver One, Tairn advise. Let’s not get yourself caught before you ever get started.

“They saved me.” I don’t look at Melgren. I look at my mother and I look her dead straight in the
eye. Neither of us blink. “They were going to be killed, too.”

“We need to know everything,” my mother speaks for the first time. “Come.” She turns on her heel
and I’m expected to follow. I’ll play her game, but I’m not going alone. I dare to put a hand on
Imogen’s elbow. She doesn’t jerk away like I expected her to. I catch Bodhi’s eye and tilt my head
for him to follow. He nods once and right now, full cloaked in steely determination, he looks more
like Xaden than ever. We wind away to Carr’s office, which happens to be closest. It’s only once
we’ve all filed in that I notice Dain is there, too.

“We need to know everything.” my mother says again. “Dain is going to help us.”

I swear Dain puffs his chest out. He certainly stands taller.

Fuck. Him.

He steps in front of me and he looks like he is the one who just had to watch one of his best friends
die, who just learned the person they loved had lied to them all along. His sympathetic, wounded
expression makes me clench one hand into a fist while the other drifts towards one of the daggers
Xaden had made for me.

You have a lie to sell, Tairn reminds me.

He’s right. I need to get it together. I blow out a breath and focus on my false memories, as awful as
they are.

“This won’t hurt,” Dain whispers as he places his hands on either side of my head. He’s wrong, of
course. It does hurt. It hurts that the person I once considered my best friend would dare to take
something like that from me without my permission, that he would use it to kill off his classmates,
that he would be okay sending me into that fray because Gods forbid he disobey a rule or an order.
It takes every ounce of desire to protect the others I have not to cringe away from his touch. “I’m
going to start.”

I focus on the memory Imogene planted before we left Aretia. I use every shield and tactic I have
to keep him out of the rest of it, out of the truth. I can feel him riffling through my mind like he’s
looking through a file cabinet and I might be trying to sell a lie, but I’m also petty as hell. I
purposefully slip in a memory of Xaden and I kissing on the turret at Monserrat, and I relish the
way he cringes at the sight of it.

He lets me go and I try to look scared and exhausted and whatever other emotion I’m supposed to
look like for someone who was nearly killed by her classmates while he reports his findings to
those gathered. General Sorrengail – I don’t know if I’ll ever call her ‘Mom’ again – doesn’t look
at me once.

“Question the other two,” she orders when Dain finishes his report out. I grit my teeth. ‘The other
two’ have names.

“Imogen?” Dain requests.

I don’t think I breathe the entire time she stands there with Dain’s hands on her. She’s the one I’m
the most worried about. Bodhi has that Riorson ability to compartmentalize. She doesn’t. She
wears her emotions on her sleeve, and she hates Dain almost as much as I do. Those emotions are
fully on display as she stares daggers at him the whole time. He steps away and I still don’t breathe
until it looks like Imogen’s false memories and shields have held. Her story is almost exactly the
same as mine, just different enough that they aren’t suspicious that they are too similar. We have to
play this just right.

Finally, it’s Bodhi’s turn.

“You’re Fen Riorson’s nephew,” my mother says.

“He’s no uncle of mine,” Bodhi replies with a tone of steel. Even I believe him, and I know he’s
lying. He’s proud to be Fen Riorson’s nephew, the son of Fen’s sister.

Xaden’s cousin.

A key part of this revolution.

He, too, stands there, brave and unyielding and I’m going to tell Xaden and Brennan how proud of
them I am when I get the chance. Dain doesn’t take as long with him and he’s convinced all three
of our stories are the same which, in turn, means the others are as well because they know as well
as I do that Dain Aestos is incapable of doing anything other than following orders.

“Riorson dead is one less headache,” Melgren says once it’s over. “You did this kingdom a favor,
Sorrengail. Saved us the trouble of having to do it ourselves.”

I swallow down vomit.

I see Bodhi’s jaw clench, Imogen subtly tap his thigh with the back of her hand to remind him to
keep himself in check. I’m not the only one struggling with this lie.

They dismiss us with the directive to get cleaned up and rest for classes tomorrow. My mom
doesn’t give me a second look.

Imogen and Bodhi peel off to their own rooms, Imogen grumbling about a shower and Bodhi, no
doubt, to write a coded letter to Xaden and Brennan. I continue down the hall to mine. Rhiannon
and Ridoc are waiting at my door. I'm forced to go through the whole thing with them. I hate lying
to them, can’t help but understand the decisions on who to tell and what to tell them Xaden had to
make at least a little more.

Not easy, is it? Sgaeyl asks, dripping with sarcasm. I don’t bother to reply.

I think I’ve managed to avoid Dain for the evening only to find him waiting outside my room when
I come back from taking a much-needed shower of my own.
“Violet.”

He pushes off the door, reaches a hand out towards me. I take a step back.

“If you’re here to sort through my memories some more…”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I swear. I wanted to check on you. Do you need anything? Can I do
anything?”

You can go stand in front of my dragon and let him incinerate you, I think.

It would be my honor, Tairn states.

I’ll help! Andarna adds. I almost smile at her enthusiasm, then remember she’s huge now and I’ll
have to navigate that in the morning, too.

“I’m tired,” I say. “It’s obviously been a horrible few days and I’d like to go to bed.”

“I’m so sorry…”

I shake my head. I do not want to hear it.

“I’m going to bed.”

To his credit, he doesn’t try to stop me.

My room feels foreign as I go through my routine – on autopilot now – of changing out of my

leathers and into something to sleep in. I put my pack in a chair, let down my hair, slip off my
armor. No need for it with my door warded or the ability to fry someone on the spot. I open my
pack, searching for my brush – funny, the things you grab in a panic to go into war, game or not –
and start to pull things out. Leftover food, a shirt, an extra pair of socks.

Xaden’s flight jacket.

My breath hitches.

It feels like forever ago instead of just days when he was putting it around my shoulders, talking
about how he couldn’t stand the thought of me being cold. I didn’t think too much about the
gesture at the time. I was in a hurry and Rhiannon, at least, had the good sense to try and cover up
whose jacket I was wearing because it never crossed my mind. I see it more for the gesture it was
now.

Xaden, putting his claim on me.

Xaden, letting the rest of the Quadrant know that I was his. Ranks be damned.

Xaden, showing you he cares.

Sgaeyl. I don’t answer her.

She’s right, though. In all the complexities and layers there are to Xaden, him tossing me his flight
jacket was as good as a marriage proposal.

Instinct tells me I can’t let anyone find it. Xaden is dead, as far as anyone else knows, and my
carrying around his flight jacket opens up a lot of questions. I absolutely cannot get rid of it for
purely sentimental reasons, so I do the next best thing. I stuff it into the bottom of my armoire, try
not to think about how we broke an armoire, and decide if anyone does find it, I’ll tell them it’s a
token of the kill.

Morbid and awful.

The book of folklore catches my eye. I pick it up, bring it with me to bed. This book was always
precious to me because it was my father’s. Now it feels instrumental to survival. Not just mine, but
everyone’s.

Time for a re-read. I settle in, content to do just that, when I hear Sgaeyl’s voice again.

Forgetting something?

No…?

You owe the commandant a message.

I frown. I owe Melgren what?

The former wingleader, Tairn clarifies.

It hits me then.

Xaden is the commandant.

Our commandant.

The revolution’s commanding general.

Holy shit.

I feel like I can’t breathe. It’s so obvious, so clear that he’s the one leading this revolution, has been
for some time, but to hear him actually called the Commandant… It’s terrifying. He’s a marked
man in more ways than just his rebellion relic and people from all sides will be gunning for him.

And I do owe him a message. I told him I would send word that we made it safely. I owe him that,
and I can send him a message far quicker and easier than any coded method he and Bodhi have
worked out. No one else knows about our mental connection and as much as I want to keep him out
of my head, that connection is critical to our mission. I’ll just have to make sure we keep it strictly
professional.

I close my eyes and let down the thick shield I’d placed between us.

Riorson?

It takes a moment for him to reply, and I realize in the seconds I wait that I’m not used to that. I’m
used to him replying instantaneously, like he’s been holding his breath, waiting for me to reach out
and pouncing the moment it finally happens.

Violet?

He sounds far away. He is far away.

We made it back. We were interrogated. They bought our story.

You’re safe? he confirms.

We’re safe. Bodhi and Imogen did well. Imogen’s memories held, and Bodhi was brave.

I don’t tell him more. I don’t think he needs to know that Bodhi denied his family.

Please be careful, Violence. I frown slightly. His words are slurred around the edges. I can’t…

He doesn’t finish his sentence.

You can’t what? I prompt.

Survive it.

I skip a breath, all the implications of those words, the various things they could mean.

This can’t go on too long.

Please don’t shut me out.

My frown grows.

I’m talking about us being here, I say. What are you talking about?

He’s quiet for a while. I can sense his presence. There’s a heaviness to it, a brooding.

I’m drunk, Violet.

Oh.

Okay then.

That’s the slurring explained.

I’m not thinking clearly, he continues. I need this mental connection though. Please don’t shut me
out.

I get it now. He’s clinging to whatever he can when it comes to us and at the moment, the only
thing he has left is the mental bond between us. I sigh.

We need it for passing information, I say. That’s it, Riorson. Nothing else.

No personal stuff. Not right now.

I don’t like when you call me Riorson.

He’s slurring is worse and I wish I could talk to Brennan or Garrick, ask them why in the hell they
have let our commanding general get rip roaring drunk.

Stop drinking, Riorson, I say. Go to bed.

I pull the shield down, but only for now, and only because if I leave it open, one or both of us is
going to say things we don’t mean or, worse, things we do mean that shouldn’t be said when one of
us is drunk, we’re on opposite ends of the continent, and at least one of us is hurting.

Both of you, Sgaeyl pipes up. You don’t get to have a monopoly on hurting, girl.

I shut her out too.

 I fall asleep reading about venin that chase me into my dreams.

Chapter End Notes

I keep talking about how complex Xaden is, but it's been fun to write Violet exploring
this rocked world she's found herself in. No spoilers, but we'll see more of her
navigating things in the coming chapters.

Up next: Xaden makes good on his promise to pull it together and gets down to
business.
 Chapter 4
Chapter Notes

Far later that I wanted to get this posted, but I still made it on a Monday with five
minutes to spare! Thank you so much for reading!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

I’m as hungover as I’ve ever been, but I’m true to my word. I’m up before breakfast with a
pounding headache and a dry mouth, but I’m dressed, I’ve had a glass of water, and I’m working on
my second cup of coffee. I don’t want the toast I manage to choke down, but I also know I need it.
Mostly to help with the hangover, but also because who knows when I’ll get around to eating
lunch.

I take a moment to take in how different this is. I’m in Aretia, in my family home – home, because
even though everyone else sees it as the castle of the former ruling family of these lands, I’ve only
ever known it to be home – and I’m the Commanding General of a revolution. I suppose I have
been for a while now, since my father died for the cause and I took up the mantle, but something
about today feels different. Like the wheels that have been spinning in place for so long have
finally gained traction and are starting their slow trek out of the mire. There is no cafeteria-style
breakfast, no formation to report to, no class schedule to keep. It’s me, this office, and the riders
I’m starting to assemble as my army.

I am so far over my head it’s comical, but there’s no turning back now.

“You look like shit,” Garrick greets as he files into my office.

“Fuck off,” I reply.

Exactly what a commandant would say.

Garrick snickers and takes a seat, props his feet up on my coffee table – a coffee table? – and laces
his hands behind his head to wait. Exactly the behavior of a major general.

In. Over. Our. Heads.

“I got my first good night of sleep since parapet,” he says conversationally. “Seems that saying
‘sleep like the dead’ is true.” I cut him a deadly look and he nods once. “Right. Not in the joking
mood this morning.”

He lets me be while I sort through the papers on my desk, checking that everything is in order
while I reel over the fact that my office has a whole ass seating area with a coffee table. This room
hasn’t changed since my dad left it for the last time – I made sure of that – but the coffee table
throws me. I search my memories, come up with one of a teenage me sitting in the very chair
Garrick is in now, listening in as he plots to declare our succession. I shut that memory down
quick, but I’m there long enough to confirm that yep, there was always the very coffee table
Garrick’s feet are resting on. Funny, what familiar things become background noise until they
suddenly appear to pluck a heartstring.
Gods, I miss my dad.

I shut that thought down, too. I can’t afford to go there, not right now. Maybe later – definitely
later, because being back here brings up memories of him at every turn – but definitely not right
now.

I chance a check to see if Violet’s shield is down, telling myself it’s not because I need to hear her
voice, that it’s to talk about the meeting we’re about to have. The shield is up, but it’s thin. I brush
my shadows along it, prompting her to let it down.

This connection between us is for passing information only, she said.

Fine then.

I’ll pass information.

I also won’t think about how raw I was last night, drunk and hurting and confessing I needed this
bond between us and that I hate when she uses my last name. If she hadn’t thrown that shield back
up when she did, I probably would have confessed how much I love her and then regretted it this
morning. As long as I’ve sat on saying those words, she deserves far, far more than a drunken
confession through a mental bond with a whole continent between us.

The list of things I’m not thinking about this morning is getting long and it’s only a few minutes
before eight o’clock.

I’ve already checked in with Sgaeyl this morning. I know Violet is awake and training with Carr. I
stroke the shield again. She drops it and my chest loosens.

What, Riorson?

Fucking last name.

I’m meeting with the group here. Starting to plan. Anything to report?

I’ve only been awake for two hours. No.

What does Carr have you working on?

Stop using Sgaeyl to spy on me.

No. What does he have you doing? It could be important.

She huffs and I almost crack a smile.

He still thinks I can’t aim. I decided to keep it that way for now.

I let my silence be my approval. She’s smart. She knows how to toe the line between letting the
true extent of her abilities show and doing enough that they don’t deem her useless and snap her
neck. Which they may do if they find out what she’s actually doing, but I will not allow myself to
think about any scenario in which Violet doesn’t come home to me. Another item on the list.

I meant it, Riorson. Stop using Sgaeyl to spy on me.

No.

She huffs again and slams the shield shut. I’m slightly disappointed, but I got under her skin, so I’ll
talk it.

Garrick is looking at me with a funny expression.

“What?”

“You good?” he counters.

“Fucking great.”

Sarcasm. He ignores it.

“You looked like you were a million kilometers away just now.”

No, just a few thousand or so, give or take a several hundred.

“Just thinking about war,” I say which is true. Violet is this war’s best weapon in so many ways.
I’m also in an all-out battle for her heart, so game the fuck on.

I haven’t told a soul about my ability to connect mind to mind with Violet. In some circles, it might
be deemed too dangerous. Humans aren’t supposed to have a link like this. She and I and our
ability to do this while mid-battle is an advantage and I’m not showing my hand. The wrong people
find out and we’re even more marked than we already are.

Brennan walks in.

“Morning,” he greets. He sits down, ready to work. I decide I like him best as a grumble back a
greeting. He grins and I know there’s a smartass comment on the tip of his tongue about my
hangover. I give him a look that dares him to say something. He chuckles.

I like him a little less.

The rest of the meager group file in and I take a deep breath.

This is it.

“Welcome to the Revolution,” I say, borrowing a line from Brennan. There is a mutter of agreeance
and steely determination. “I consider this day one, part two. We’ve been biding our time since
those who went before us fell, doing what little we could to first survive and then rebuild and later,
prepare. The venin are getting stronger and we can no longer stand down while innocent people
continue to die. We begin – truly begin – our work today.”

“And you brought Violet here,” Ciaran says. “That sped things up.” I turn my glare on him and
dare him to say more. He averts his eyes. Smart man.

“Violet, Imogen, and Bodhi are at Basgiath,” I continue. “They can’t remain there long. It’s not
safe, and we need them – and any other marked one – out of there before we move into the open.”

“What about those who are sympathetic to our cause?” Brennan questions. “Do we leave them, or
do we evacuate them as well?”

“How do we know who is sympathetic?” Garrick asks him. “If we’re being fair here, we can’t be
positive those who are marked will side with us.”

“That’s part of Violet’s job,” I say. “She’ll determine who to trust, who not to trust. She’s not going
to leave an innocent behind, not if she can help it.” My stomach rolls and it’s not from last night’s
liquor. It’s from the idea of Violet putting herself into a position to be exposed. Toss that on the list
of things I’m not thinking about. I have to compartmentalize, focus on right now. I was damn good
at compartmentalization before Violet. Now I find there is a lot of gray in the black and white I
used to move through. “She’ll also be gathering information and feeding it back to us.”

“How?” It’s Druin this time, a fellow third year a few months younger than me. He’s quiet, doesn’t
draw attention to himself. His gift is silence. He can make a room – a whole building, a forest – go
eerily and completely quiet. It’s deadly useful. The enemy will never hear us coming. “She can’t
exactly send us a letter if we’re all dead.”

“She has her ways.” I see Brennan raise an eyebrow at that. I don’t make eye contact. “Imogen is
there to help protect her – and Bodhi’s – memories from Dain Aetos. Bodhi is there to watch out
for both of them.”

“How do you know she’s not going to sell us out?” Ciaran pushes. “She’s Aetos’s best friend and
the daughter of fucking General Sorrengail.” He cuts his eye at Brennan. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Brennan shrugs. “Violet won’t sell us out though. She’s the best of the Sorrengails.
She has our dad’s brain, our mother’s cunning, and her own moral code. Violet is in this, and you
can rest your questions now.”

I raise an eyebrow at Druin and dare him to challenge. He glowers but drops it. He’s pissed off me
and Brennan now and he knows the line he’s walking is razor thin.

“We’re looking at possibly fighting on two fronts,” I continue, shuffling my papers. “Navarre and
the venin. We’re protected to the south by the Cliffs of Dralor. I don’t anticipate trouble from our
west.” It’s Tyrrish lands to the west. They will fight with us. “The threats from Navarre will come
from the north. The venin will come from the east. The fliers have pledged their loyalty to us when
the time comes.”

“You’re trusting them?” Garrick clarifies.

“I am,” I nod. “I don’t think we have a choice.”

He nods once and he’s regaining rank with me. He asks questions, but he accepts the answers – as
long as he agrees with them. He’ll let me know if he has a dissenting opinion and I’ll hear him out.
He has a way of seeing what I don’t.

“We’ll still be outnumbered,” Brennan says. “Unless we can recruit people from Navarre.”

“Which is exactly what we need to do,” I say.

We dissolve into full on foundational planning for the next two hours. We debate on how we make
connections with possible allies, how we go about bringing our cause up without being caught. We
also determine some immediate next steps to secure Aretia and that’s where today’s meeting wraps
up. I sit back in my chair and watch as people file out of my office for whatever task they have
been assigned. Garrick and Brennan – in charge of reinforcing the wards around Aretia – are the
last to go.

“Brennan,” I say. “Hang back for a minute.”

“I’ll catch up,” he says to Garrick, then returns to his seat, waits expectantly. I wait until I’m
certain the others are out of the hallway before I speak.

“Your other sister,” I begin.

“Mira,” he supplies.

“Mira.” I quirk a half grin. “She hates me, by the way.”

“Unsurprising,” he says. “She know about you and Violet?”

“She suspects something at the very least. She also has a rather valuable signet.”

“You’re asking if you think she’ll side with us.”

“I am,” I nod. “I know she’s a decorated rider, on a trajectory to follow your mother. But I’ve seen
her and Violet together, and I’ve pieced together enough to know that she was and is livid with
your mother for forcing Violet into the Rider’s Quadrant. There’s a bond between your sisters and I
think Violet could convince her.”

That bond is palpable. I’m an only child and usually don’t mind it, but when I’ve seen Violet with
her siblings, I’ve felt a certain longing for what I’ll never have. They have each other, all things
considered. They get each other in a way only siblings can. They fight and they protect the way
only siblings can. I have Bodhi, Garrick. I had Liam. They are as close to brothers as I’ll ever have,
but that bond is just not the same as what the Sorrengail siblings have.

I also won’t lose them, not after losing Liam. Violet won’t lose her siblings either, not if I can help
it.

“It would have to be Violet,” Brennan says, thinking out loud. “You and I are supposed to be dead,
for one thing. Never mind that my dragon is grounded and yours is off with Violet. We can’t
exactly fly to Montserrat and say ‘hey, Mira, a word?’ Violet will have to be the one to convince
her.” He purses his lips. “Mira may be the one that can open that box.”

That fucking box.

We can’t open it. We’ve tried everything. I’m certain whatever is in that box we recovered from
the ruins of the tower is what the venin wanted. I’m also certain the longer it stays in Aretia, the
more dangerous it is to this city’s – town, I correct myself – safety. I need to deal with it, and I
need to deal with it soon.

“Violet can write her letters,” I say. “She can’t say anything via written word for obvious reasons,
but we need her to do what she can to flip Mira.”

Brennan studies me.

“You have a lot of faith in my sister, Riorson.”

“I’ve seen what she’s capable of,” I say. “Or rather, I’ve seen her scratch the surface of what she’s
capable of. Too many people underestimate her because she’s built small, has joints and muscles
and bones that don’t always want to cooperate. Those people are deadly wrong to do so. She’s
going to burn this world down and I’ll be more than happy to stand by her while she does it. I’ll
consider it an honor.”

Brennan only nods and I get the distinct impression he would stand on her other side.

“I should catch up with Garrick,” he says. “Those wards aren’t going to reinforce themselves.”

I make a split-second decision and let the words come up.

“Do you think humans can bond in a similar way as dragons?”

He’s halfway to standing when the question comes out of me. He keeps eyes on me as he sits back
down.

“What are you implying, Riorson?”

“Do you think it's possible?” I press.

“I’m going to need more to go off here,” Brennan pushes right back and I’m reminded of Violet
and her tenacity. I sigh and decide to trust him. Besides, if I trust him, he’ll trust me, and maybe in
turn, Violet will trust me. Crap logic, but I’m grasping at straws here.

“Violet and I can communicate mind-to-mind,” I reveal. “Similar to how we communicate with our
dragons.”

He’s dumbfounded.

“That shouldn’t be possible…”

“She showed up in my archive one day,” I continue. “The sky turned from endless blue to blue but
full of lightning. I don’t know what she sees in hers, but she appeared and so I tried reaching out to
her like I would Sgaeyl, and she heard me. It took her some time to figure out how to respond, but
she can communicate right back. It’s been dead useful a few times and right now, it’s the safest
way we’ve got to communicate.”

“So you hear her thoughts?” Brennan is trying to process what I’m saying. I shake my head.

“I can’t hear or see her thoughts. It’s just – talking. And, well, I can find her. She could go
anywhere on this continent, and I’d be able to find her. I don’t think she’s figured that part out yet,
but I could go into my archives right now and pinpoint her location.”

“That’s… I’ve never heard of that…”

Utterly dumbfounded.

“We haven’t told anyone,” I say. “At least I haven’t, and I doubt she has.”

“Don’t,” Brennan advises. “You can tell her I know – I wouldn’t lie to her or keep things from her
again if I were you…” No fucking kidding, Sorrengail. “I wouldn’t tell anyone else. If the wrong
people find out, especially while she’s at Basgiath, it could mean trouble.”

“I think we’re bonded,” I confess. “Yeah, our dragons are, but there have been other riders with
mated dragons, and they haven’t been like Violet and I.” This is a fucking awkward conversation
to be having with her brother, but I’ve been thinking about my connection to Violet a lot lately for
obvious reasons and whatever it is between us isn’t just attraction or lust or even love. It’s
something more. It’s something special.

It’s something I’m going to get back and never let go of.

“It sure as hell sounds like it.” He shakes his head. “Violet would.”

“Violet would what?” I ask, eager for any insight into her. I like it when Brennan talks about her.
He doesn’t do it much now that he knows she and I had a thing as he puts it, but he gives me
insight to Violet I wouldn’t have otherwise. He gives me another side of her. And when you’re a
man parched for Violet Sorrengail, you take whatever morsels you get.

Shame you couldn’t give her any insight into who you are.

Fucking Tairn. Never misses a chance to remind me of how colossally I screwed up. I know the
only reason he hasn’t incinerated me is because of Sgaeyl.

That would be correct.

I shut him out and wish, not for the first time, that I could connect to Andarna instead. I’m told
she’s a lot kinder.

“Fall in love with her opposite.” He does stand this time. “Your dark shadows, her bright
lightning.” He shakes his head again, but there’s a fondness there. “Like I said last night, Riorson. I
approve.” He salutes me and I cringe. I don’t want to be saluted. He chuckles. Fucker did it on
purpose. “I’ll poke around, see if I can find anything about bonds between humans,” he promises.
“In the meantime, keep that little communication secret to yourself.”

I have intentions of studying a few maps, starting to make some strategic decisions on where we
can station riots, establish outposts, but I can’t help myself.

Meeting went well. We’re working to double down on the protections around Aretia.

There’s no reply but the shield is down so I know she heard me. I check the time.

How’s Battle Brief?

We’re discussing an attempted raid at Athebyne.

I frown.

Athebyne is abandoned…

Exactly.

There’s a pause. I wait to see if she’s going to say more.

How did you do it? Sit here and listen to this utter bullshit?

I smile. That’s my girl, seeing through it all.

I used it to my advantage. Read between the lines, Violence. They’re telling you a hell of a lot more
than you realize. Or rather, than they realize.

Like convincing us that there are still people stationed at Athebyne.

Exactly.

They said three riders died. Another pause. I wait, sure she’s going to figure it out. That’s how
they’re accounting for the death roll. Saying these riders died by gryphon when it was really
venin.

I have no proof, but I’d bet a lot of money you’re correct.

I hate them.
 I smile bigger. There’s an ache in my chest the size of Violet. I miss her so damn much.

I do, too.

I let the conversation end there, but as I pick up my maps and refocus on strategy, a plan starts to
form.

She wants to share information through our bond, no more no less? Fine then. I’ll share
information. She’ll know every move I make in Aretia, every strategic decision, every tough call,
every weapons run, every diplomatic attempt at forging an alliance. I’ll make sure she knows
everything going on here. I’ll stoop as low as reporting out on what I eat, drink, and when I go to
bed if I have to.

I can’t rebuild her trust in me overnight. But I can lay the foundation for it while she’s gone. As
long as she leaves the bond open – and she’s smart enough to know we need it open – I’ll work to
make sure she knows I’m not hiding a single thing from her, not anymore.

Game the fuck on, Sorrengail.

I’m getting you back.

Chapter End Notes

A bit of a stage-setting chapter here - Xaden, a reluctant general, trying to fill his
father's shoes in a place that brings up a lot of memories for him, plotting both war and
how to get his girlfriend back. He can't physically be with her - for now... - but he's
about to exploit the hell out of this connection between them.

And are we surprised he's using Sgaeyl as a spy? Absolutely not.

Next chapter, we meet Sloane. And another marked character that might play a key
role... Stick with me. I'm pretty far down the path of writing out chapters and we've
got some DOOZIES coming up... Including one of my favorites so far very soon.

I love reading your comments and questions - keep 'em coming! Thank you so much
for reading!
 Chapter 5
Chapter Notes

Let's meet Sloane, shall we? And maybe someone new.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

It feels wrong to be walking into the archives without Liam.

It took some work, but I persuaded the powers that be to let me resume archive duty. And by
powers to be, I mean Dain. He owes me and I absolutely manipulated him into helping me get back
on archive duty. It wasn’t hard. All I had to do was pull the “I miss being in the archives” card and
it happened. Must not have had to break any rules to change my assignment. Probably still thinks
he can convince me to join the scribes, too. I need information though, and what better place to get
it than the archives? How I get it… I’m still working that part out.

I push my cart through the doors that, despite how right being a rider is, still feel like home. Jesinia
is waiting. She breaks into a big smile.

“It’s been so long!” she signs.

“I’ve been training,” I sign back with a soft smile. I really am glad to see her.

“Liam?” she asks.

Oh.

Gods.

She doesn’t know.

“He died.” Her face falls. “He was trying to save me from a… situation.”

I’m starting to understand how a lie and a truth can sometimes be one in the same.

“I’m so sorry. He was…” She searches for the right word.

“Good,” I sign. “He was good.”

She nods her agreement. “Good.” The heartbreak over his loss threatens to overtake me. I pass her
today’s list in an effort to focus my attention on the task at hand. “Be right back.”

I watch her go and take advantage of the quiet – the aloneness – to think. My dad always said that
the scribes were the most powerful. He gave me a banned book, hid a note in it. It’s clear to me
that he knew about the revolution. It’s not clear to me if he knew Brennan was alive, but I do think
he knew Brennan had flipped sides.

Wait.

Scribes have the most power.

We need a scribe.

Why? Xaden replies almost right away. We have you.

I roll my eyes. He’s adept at walking right up to the line of flirting without actually flirting. He’s
also made sure I know everything going on at Aretia. I appreciate it and I also had to shut him out
to concentrate on classes and flight maneuvers yesterday. I swear, he’s talked to me more from
across the continent than he did when I was one floor below him.

My dad’s note, I remind him. It takes one generation to erase history.

We need a scribe who knows the truth, he realizes. Any ideas?

Jesinia Neilwart. She’s a friend of mine. We grew up together, trained together. Brennan knows
her. He’ll vouch for her. She may not know that the current history is a lie, but she’ll have the
means to find what’s being stripped from the records.

Can you get in touch with her?

I’m back on archive duty…

How did you manage that? he interrupts.

I played to Dain’s weaknesses and guilt. I swear Xaden growls through the bond. He got me back
on archive duty.

I don’t like you talking to him.

He’s wingleader. I’m going to have to.

You’re section leader is Bodhi? I roll my eyes again. He’s asked this at least three times since
finding out I was named a squad leader yesterday.

Yes, Riorson. Didn’t even need to manipulate that scenario. Our line of report, at least, had worked
out well enough. Imogen is also a section leader and that’s helpful as hell. I’ll see to it that Sloane
is in my section. Anyone else?

He’s quiet for a moment.

There’s a kid, Marcum. He’s not cut out for this. He’s tall, gangly, no weight to his body, wears
glasses. I’m not confident he can make it across the parapet.

I’ll do what I can, I promise. I wonder, not for the first time, how he seems to know all one
hundred and seven marked ones so well. I know what it’s like to be the one no one thinks can
succeed.

You were always meant to be a rider, Violet.

My chest tightens. He’s definitely put a toe over the line of professional versus personal, but I
decide to allow him this one.

Get Brennan’s opinion on Jesinia, I direct. I hear her coming back with today’s list.

I trust your opinion. I don’t need Brennan’s.

I suck in a breath and leave it there. I trust your opinion. He trusts me and that’s his way of
reminding me of that.

“Here you go,” Jesinia signs. Her smile is still in place, but there is a sadness there that extends to
her eyes. I get it. I miss Liam, too. “Anything else?”

I almost say no, but then I think better of it.

“Remember that book I asked you about?” she nods. “Is there anything else folklore here, perhaps?
I miss reading.” I make sure to sell it with a wistful smile.

“I’ll see what I can find,” she promises.

The rest of the day passes as uneventful as any day in Basgiath can be. Tomorrow is Conscription
Day, and we spend a lot of the day being prepped on what’s expected of us. I’m at dinner debating
on how to find out assignments so I can – once again – rearrange them to suit my needs when
Bodhi slides into the seat next to me.

“Sending or receiving?” he asks in a low whisper.

“What?” I raise an eyebrow.

“I have a leadership meeting after dinner to assign tasks for tomorrow. Do you want to send them
across the parapet or receive them?”

I’ve already thought this out.

“I’ll do the sending,” I say. “Put Rhiannon on duty assigning squads. She’ll make sure I get Sloane.
And I want some kid named Marcum, too.”

“He’s not going to make it across parapet,” Bodhi says as casually as he’s discussing the weather.
He spears his chicken and carries on as I glare at him. “He’s a human string bean. I don’t think it’s
possible for him to gain muscle.”

“The same was said about me.”

“Not like this,” he shook his head. “He’s taller than Xaden.” I give him a look that is supposed to
remind him we’re not talking about Xaden, the guy who is dead because he tried to kill me.
“Right,” he nods, “anyway, he’s tall, gangly, uncoordinated. Even if he does make it across, he
won’t last long in the quadrant. We don’t lose many, but my hopes for getting him through, let
alone bonded with a dragon, are low.”

It is now my personal mission to get this Marcum character across the parapet.

“How do you know him?” I ask.

“Know who?” Imogen drops to a seat across from us.

“Marcum Cole,” Bodhi supplies.

“He’s going to fall tomorrow,” she says, and I double down on my mission. She glances around.
Rhiannon, Ridoc, and Sawyer are making their way towards us, but she still has time. “His mother
was one of Fen Riorson’s most trusted advisors. His father was a scribe.”

That catches my ear.

“Was or is?”
“Dunno,” she shrugs. “My best guess is ‘was’ if he grew up fostered like the rest of us.”

Fostering. Something else not included in the records. My power crackles.

Easy, comes Tairn’s warning.

“No need to fry us,” Bodhi says. I take a moment to ground myself and by the time Rhiannon,
Ridoc, and Sawyer join us, I look normal.

Marcum’s father was a scribe? I ask Xaden.

He was. His mother was one of my dad’s advisors. Marcum spent a lot of time here.

Is his father dead or alive?

I’m not certain, but if I had to guess, dead. He was fostered, after all. There’s a pause. Why? And
that ‘why’ sounds suspicious.

What better scribe to rewrite history than one who was on the frontlines when it happened?

You’re not wrong. Another pause and I can practically see him thinking. I think I might miss
watching him think. He always refers to me as the intelligent one, but he’s not exactly lacking in
the intelligence department himself. I’m facts and theory. He’s strategy and motive. We need to
find out his status. You’re closer to the scribes…

I’ve got it.

Be careful, Violence.

I hear the note of worry in his tone.

I will. I don’t say it as a promise, but I will do my best not to get caught. Too many people depend
on my not getting caught.

Eat your dinner.

Seriously? Stop using Sgaeyl to spy on me.

No.

I close my shield and pick up my fork, my mind spinning to work out how, exactly, I’m going to
flip Jesinia to our side, and figure out if this Marcum Cole person’s father is dead or alive.

I’ll start by getting Marcum across the parapet.

It’s a near perfect day.

The sky is endless, the breeze is light, and the temperature is just right. A rarity for this time of
year. It’s like Mother Nature is celebrating something. I don’t take time to question it though
because I now have two marked ones to get across the parapet.

“What does she look like again?” Rhiannon asks as she and I and Ridoc scan the massive crowd in
search of Sloane.

“Like Liam but female,” Ridoc says.

“She’s tall, blonde, beautiful,” I report. Xaden had described her to me, and then I had Bohdi do it
as well to confirm his memory of her. Bohdi’s report was arguably more crass – “she looks like
Liam, but hot” – but it mirrored Xaden’s. She should stand out among the crowd, and not just
because she’s marked.

“There.” Rhiannon points to our left and if that’s not Sloane Mairi, I still want to know her. She’s
tall, toned, hair chopped short and fierce. She’s wearing fitted clothes, and her pack looks to be
next to empty.

She came prepared.

“Let’s go.”

Rhiannon and I start towards her. Ridoc follows. Rhiannon holds out a hand to stop him.

“Where, exactly, are you going?” she asks. We had worked out a plan. Ridoc is supposed to be a
lookout of sorts, covering for Rhiannon and I so we can make sure Sloane is ready to cross.

“To meet Sloane so she can go ahead and fall in love with me,” he says as though it’s obvious.
“She is, by far, the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. No offense to you two.” I roll my eyes
and leave Rhiannon to deal with him. I approach Sloane with purpose.

“Sloane?”

She turns and I come up to, roughly, her chin. She’s all sharp edges and proud shoulders and what
in the hell do they feed Tyrrish kids to make them all brawny and beautiful?

“Yeah?” She sounds enough like Liam that it dings something in my chest.

“Follow me.”

I don’t wait to see if she does. I slip through the crowd and into the cover of the wood line. She’s
with me and I turn to introduce myself, but I don’t have to.

“You’re Violet Sorrengail.”

“I am,” I nod. “The hair give it away?”

“That and the fact that you’re small.” Rude. “Although the way they made it sound, you were
downright sickly and that doesn’t seem to be the truth.”

“Not even close.”

I mean, sure, my body has a mind of its own, but I wouldn’t classify myself as sickly. Not
anymore.

“They also say you have two dragons.” She doesn’t believe it, I can tell.

“I do,” I nod again. “Tairn and Andarna.” She only appraises me, debating on whether she’s going
to trust me. I’m giving her no choice. “Your brother was my friend. I was with him when he died. I
promised him I would look out for you.”

That confidence of hers waivers.

“You knew my brother?” she asks.

“He was my friend,” I say again. “My best friend, if I’m being honest.”

“He was marked. The marked ones don’t associate with Sorrengails.”

So she has no idea about the revolution then.

Or she’s good at hiding it.

Point, Tairn.

“He was my friend,” I say one more time. “He died trying to help me. I was with him.” I take a
chance. “So was Xaden Riorson.” Her eyes darken with something akin to pain at the mention of
Xaden, of knowing that her brother was with someone she’s certain cared for him when he took his
last breath. So do mine, but for entirely different reasons. I see those final moments in my dreams. I
hear Liam asking me to watch out for Sloane, to hear Xaden out. I see Xaden, head bowed, saying
goodbye, as close to tears as I’ve ever seen him. I blink away those thoughts. I’d anticipated her
disbelief. I reach into my pocket and produce the carvings Liam did of Tairn and Andarna. Other
than my book of folklore, these are the most precious objects I own. “He made these for me.”

She’s careful as she picks up the carving of Tairn. Some primal part of me doesn’t want her to
touch it, doesn’t want to share, but I let her. She turns it over, searching. A small smile crosses her
lips.

“These really are his work.” She lifts her eyes to mine, and they are exactly the same shade of blue
as Liam’s. “I see his signature.”

“His signature?” I ask.

“He always nicked a little ‘L’ into his work. See? It’s just here.” She points it out to me and I
release a soft gasp. Sure enough, between the wooden Tairn’s front legs, is a tiny ‘L.’ I check
Andarna. There’s one there, too. I have to blink away the tears. She passes it back to me. “He
wasn’t alone?” she asks. “When he died?”

“He wasn’t alone,” I promise. “He was given a proper burial.”

The silence between us is heavy. Rhiannon walks up, hesitant, like she knows she’s interrupting
something.

“Right,” I say, coming back to my senses. “Sloane, this is Rhiannon. She was also a friend of
Liam’s. Your outfit is fine, and your pack appears light. Good work. Let’s see the shoes.”

“A little too flat,” Rhiannon assesses as Sloane looks at us like we’re insane. “What size do you
wear?”

“A nine…”

“I'm an eight,” she says, already taking off her boots. “You’ll have to cram your feet in, but I
promise, these boots are going to do you far better than those, at least until you’re on the other
side.

“You’re trading boots with me?” Sloane asks.

“Just until you’re across the parapet,” I supply. “I’ll be at the start. Pretend like you don’t know
me. When you reach the other side, find Rhiannon. She’ll put you in my squad. You may
encounter our friend Ridoc as well. Trust me, you’ll know him when you see him.”
“He may propose,” Rhiannon warns.

“I’m into chicks,” Sloane shrugs.

“Please let me be there when you disappoint him,” Rhiannon counters and despite the fact that I’m
going to have to watch a few dozen people die today, I snort back a laugh.

“Same,” I say. “Now go ahead and get in line. Get it over with early. Trust me.”

We turn to walk towards the gate together, sidestepping crying parents and lovers saying goodbyes,
maybe for now, maybe forever, and it hurts my chest that Sloane doesn’t have anyone to say
goodbye to.

Well, she has me now, at least.

I keep my eyes peeled, searching for anyone that looks like a “string bean” with a rebellion relic.
There are so many people though, and I don’t see him.

Naturally, Ridoc plants himself firmly in our path.

“Hello there,” he drawls to Sloane and only Sloane. “I’m Ridoc and I’m quite possibly the answer
to your prayers.”

“You don’t look like the absolute goddess I saw when I first got here,” Sloane says without
missing a beat. “Although you are about the same height. Just missing a few piercings and a
badass haircut.”

Ridoc’s face is priceless, and I think I might love Sloane Mairi.

“Well then,” Ridoc says. He masks his disappointment well. “Back to the drawing board, I
suppose.”

We leave her in line and make our way to our positions. Sawyer is with me which makes me happy
– a friendly face. We have just a few minutes before the first candidate. He wants to make small
talk, but I can’t stop from thinking back to a year ago when I was terrified I was going to fall to my
death. The rain, the wind, Jack…

Xaden.

I met Xaden a year ago today.

Mixed emotions flood me. He and I are irrevocably and forever linked. I love him. I even
understand his choices, especially now that I’m having to make some of them myself. I don’t trust
him, not with my heart, not right now. He held so much back, not just about the revolution but
about himself. He kept me at arm’s length, told me not to fall for him, pushed me away over and
over again whenever I got too close. I can be with someone physically without the feelings, but not
Xaden, not when I feel the things I feel for him. I feel his shadow stroke against the shield I have
up so I can focus, like he knows I’m thinking of him.

I leave the shield up.

I’m too raw to talk to him right now.

He knows what today is, Sgaeyl says in the snippy tone she’s reserved for me on the rare occasion
she speaks to me. She acts like it was my idea to take her away from Xaden, but that one was all
him.

His life changed for the better on this day, Andarna chimes in. I almost smile. Who knew she was a
hopeless romantic?

Women, Tairn grumbles.

The first candidate steps forward.

They don’t make it across.

“Hell of an omen for how this is going to go,” Sawyer mutters before he calls the next name.

Fifteen candidates step onto the parapet. Eleven make it. The odds are horrible, and my stomach is
churning as Sloane comes into view. She meets my eye and gives me, well, it’s not a smile, but it’s
close? There are two people in front of her. One makes it, one doesn’t.

“Almost a third haven’t made it,” Sawyer mutters. “What the hell

It’s concerning, not going to lie. I take a deep breath.

“Sloane Mairi!”

She steps up to the parapet and she looks so brave, so fearless. It could be Liam standing there. I
hear Sawyer’s sharp intake.

“Is that…”

“Liam’s sister?” Sloane asks, overhearing. “Yes.”

With that, she squares her body, puts her arms out, and begins to walk. She doesn’t so much as
bobble. I’m transfixed as I watch her cross, as confident and steady as though she were on solid
ground. I still hold my breath, just in case. I can’t save her here. I’m not Xaden with his shadows.

Thankfully, I don’t need to try.

I breathe a sigh of relief and trust Rhiannon will put her with me.

A dozen more go through, then a dozen after that. The odds improve slightly and at one point, it’s
almost a game to see how long we make it before someone falls. We’re at eleven when a red-
haired girl gets cocky, tries to run the last few steps, and falls to her death. Sawyer crosses her off
the list with a bit of a flourish. We’ve learned “cocky” doesn’t get you far in the Quadrant.

It’s getting hot now, and I’m in my full leathers. I’m spacing out, growing bored of this, wishing
I’d worn the short-sleeve version, when Sawyer speaks. “Gods, he’s tall.”

I look.

Marcum Cole.

It has to be.

He is, in fact, taller than Xaden by a solid two inches, but he weighs at least twenty pounds less,
probably more. He’s skin stretched over bone with little muscle tone. He wears glasses and has a
nervous tick about him. His clothes are loose, likely because there’s nothing to fill him out. He is a
walking, talking “nerd” stereotype.
He is, at least, wearing decent boots.

I notice his rebellion relic. It’s small, the smallest I’ve seen by far. It’s on the back of his arm, just
above his elbow, about the size of a fist. I think of Xaden’s, of how it starts at his wrist and wraps
up his arm and neck, stopping at his jaw. Bodhi’s, Garrick’s, Liam’s – all of theirs take up most of
their arms. Imogen’s, too, is substantial. In fact, the more I think about it, the more certain I am that
all marked ones I know have a much more substantial relic than this Marcum.

Interesting.

“Name?” Sawyer asks.

“Marcum Cole.”

His voice is soft. I try in vain to think on my feet, figure out a way to help him, but it’s too late.
He’s already stepping onto the parapet and there is exactly nothing I can do now.

I hold my breath.

It feels important that Marcum makes it, and not just because Xaden, in his own Xaden way, asked
me to watch out for him. Marcum feels like he has answers.

“He doesn’t stand a chance,” Sawyer mutters just loud enough for me to barely hear him. Even me,
the girl who was least likely to succeed last year, can’t help but agree that the odds are most
definitely not in his favor.

His first few steps are shaky. He’s still protected by the wall on either side. He pauses in the
opening, and I see his shoulders heave with the breath he takes.

And then he drops.

I inhale sharply, sure he’s literally chosen to jump, but that’s not the case. He’s on all fours, and
then he’s lying flat on the parapet, arms and legs wrapped around it. He starts to drag himself
across. The jaw of every person that can see him is hanging open in shock.

“Can he do that?” Sawyer asks.

“The Codex says you have to make it across the parapet,” I say. “It doesn’t explicitly say how.”

A technicality and he’s using it.

I might like this kid.

Maybe.

He continues to sloth his way across the parapet until he’s firmly surrounded at wall on the other
side. He stands, doesn’t look back, and disappears inside.

“Huh,” Sawyer says. I can’t tell if it's disbelief or admiration or both.

“Huh,” I echo. I’m not sure which I feel either.

The next candidate steps up and I’m pulled back to doing my job.

And wondering how to figure out what Marcum Cole knows – a nd if his dad is dead or alive.
Chapter End Notes

Sloane - a badass. Ridoc, the comedic relief. And Marcum. A mystery.

I know there wasn't much Xaden and Violet interaction here, but without spoiling
anything... next chapter is one of my favorites. ;)

Your comments have been so gracious and motivating - thank you so much! I'm so
glad so many of you are enjoying this piece - thank you for reading!

Let me know what you thought of this one! :)

 Chapter 6
Chapter Notes

Author's Note: This update contains mentions of phobias, panic attacks, and
abuse.

This is my favorite update so far. It's a raw one for our guy Xaden. See the above
warning and read on.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

“The next time I suggest something like this, remind me we don’t have fucking dragons,” I
complain as Brennan and I pick our way down the rocky face of the Cliffs of Dralor.

“Technically, we have dragons,” Brennan says. “I can’t utilize mine because of the whole being
dead thing and you sent yours off with Violet. Also, you’re dead, too.”

“Shut up,” I grumble.

“The next time you suggest something like this, I’m going to check to see what kind of mood
you’re in before I agree,” he counters.

I mutter a string of profanity under my breath and drop down to the next safe landing spot. We
have to get back up these damned cliffs, but I’ll worry about that later.

He’s right though.

I’m in an awful mood.

I’m arguably always in a bad mood these days, but I’m in an especially bad one today. It’s
Conscription Day and I have a host of feelings about it. I hate this day, for one. So much
unnecessary death. I also hate seeing the faces of the people I forced into it – the ones who would
most certainly not choose to be riders if given the option I took away with my bargain. Granted,
they would have died without it, just for being the child of a so-called traitor, so from that angle, I
did them a favor.

It’s complicated.

It’s also complicated that this is an anniversary of sorts for Violet and me.

She came into my life a year ago.

One year ago, I stood towering over her, assessing her, wondering why the hell she was there, what
she knew, whose side was she on, but mostly, why in the hell was she there?

I was also taken aback by how beautiful she was.

I don’t know what I expected General Sorrengail’s youngest daughter to look like, but it hadn’t
been Violet. I think, in some deep part of my brain, I’d determined her youngest child would have
three heads, a limp, maybe an actual tail.
I guess she did have a limp with that knee of hers and her mismatched boots not fitting correctly.

Still, I didn’t expect Violet with her hazel eyes and kissable lips and that fucking hair that I lose all
good sense over anytime I see it loose around her shoulders.

I didn’t expect to be falling right alongside the rest of the bodies that fell that day. Except they fell
to their deaths. I fell into a lust that would become love, a feeling so foreign to me by then that I
didn’t recognize it until months later.

I don’t think we would spend the day celebrating, exactly, if we were in the same place, if we were
together, but I don’t know. Maybe we would acknowledge it or something.

If things were different.

If I weren’t a complete idiot.

If she would let down the damn shield and say anything to me. She’s been gone three weeks now,
and I’ve gotten used to that sharing information thing. My shield is always down, always ready for
her. She’s the one that lifts and lowers hers all the damn time. It’s been down more than up, but
still. Put the damn thing down and say something to me. Let me know if Sloane made it across the
parapet. Prove me wrong and say that Marcum did, too.

Mentioning that we met a year ago today is probably too much to hope for.

I’ll settle for a fucking weather report at this point, so long as I hear her voice.

“We’re almost there,” I say to distract myself.

“Thank the gods,” Brennan mutters.

We don’t say much else as we navigate the rocky surfaces. It occurs to me that this is a lot like
parapet. We’re precariously balanced with pieces of stone and slate crumbling under our feet and if
we were pretty much any other pairing, the fall might kill us. Except I have my shadows and
Brennan can mend. I’ll catch either of us if we fall, he’ll put us back together.

When we reach our destination, Garrick is already there. He’s leaning against a rock, ankles
crossed, polishing off an apple. His dragon is perched nearby.

“Nice of you two to join me,” he greets.

“Fuck off,” I say. I jump to the flat surface and land with the grace of a cat.

“Still in an excellent mood, I see.”

“He’s a real peach,” Brennan confirms. He drops from the same ledge I just left and lands just as
gracefully. “Any trouble on the way?”

“Perfect day for a half hour flight,” Garrick shrugs. I huff, mad I let him take the risk of flying his
dragon instead of making him come on foot with us. Brennan and I have been hiking since before
sunrise. We’ll camp tonight and hike back tomorrow. Right after we climb back up the fucking
cliffs.

You could have had a half hour flight, too.

How is parapet? I counter.

You’ll find out when you find out.

I hope you break a talon.

I hope you have fun hiking back to Aretia.

Sgaeyl disappears and I’m that much more irritable. She’s still mad I sent her with Violet and her
attitude shows it. Dragons don’t like being separated from their riders for long periods of time.
They also don’t like being separated from their mates. There is no good solution for any of us
involved, and so Sgaeyl and I are on opposite ends of the continent because Violet needs to be at
Basgiath right now, Tairn needs to be with her, Sgaeyl needs to be with Tairn, and I need someone
to watch the hell over Violet. The fact that I can still channel with the distance is an indicator of
just how deep Sgaeyl and I’s bond goes and there is comfort in that. Still, I think she’s getting the
better end of this deal. She has Tairn. I’m stuck here without my dragon or my girl and with
Brennan and Garrick to keep me company.

“Shall we get this show on the road?” Brennan asks.

“Let’s do it,” I nod. “Carefully.”

“It’s not like this thing is going to suddenly spring open,” Garrick says as he moves to the closed
box his dragon transported here for us, the only reason I okayed his flight. “We’ve done everything
we possibly can to open it, and it’s not budging.”

“Whatever is in it is dangerous,” I say. “The venin want it, and it seems they can track it. We’re
still inside the Navarre wards and they haven't managed to infiltrate too far past the borders.”

“Yet,” Brennan interjects.

“Yet,” I agree. “It’s only a matter of time though, and if it’s not them, it will be the Navarrian army.
That box was hidden for a reason, and they will figure out it’s missing sooner or later. We can’t
leave it inside the boundaries of Aretia, even with our own wards in place. This is the best idea I’ve
got.”

This idea is a cave tucked midway down the Cliffs of Dralor. Getting to it is perilous, especially on
foot. The stone is thick, and the cave is deep. There is no guarantee the box won’t be located, but
there will be effort required to find it and most importantly, it will be out of Aretia.

Second to Violet, Aretia – my home – is the thing I will protect at all costs. I won’t let those
innocent people suffer again.

“Let’s get this over with,” Garrick determines. Whatever is in that box makes his dragon edgy –
not a good sign – and he wants distance between him and that box. I take up the mantle and pick up
the box. It’s small, but heavy, and whatever is in it pulses with power. Chradh literally sighs in
relief as I walk away with it. Brennan and Garrick follow.

The cave is narrow and the three of us aren’t exactly small. Brennan and Garrick both make mage
lights appear, but the walls are close, the ceiling not far over my head. I take a deep breath and
push forward.

“You good?” Garrick asks from behind. I grunt a response. I don’t like tight spaces.

At all.

It takes just under ten minutes to reach the end of the cave. I place the box in a corner, tucked as
deep into the shadows as I can. The cave’s shadows reach out to me, almost like they’re saying
hello and promising to help hide it. I send them back into place with a silent order to do just that –
keep this box hidden at all costs.

“Wards,” I order.

Fast.

I need to get the fuck out here.

The three of us work together to ward the box as best we can. We don’t know what’s in it or what
we’re warding it against, not really, so we throw everything we can at it. Another ten minutes and
we’re finally making our way out. My chest has tightened into a vice grip I haven’t felt since
Violet fell from Tairn, and the mage lights do little to help as my shoulders brush against the too
close walls and the ceiling, while a couple feet above me, feels like it's sitting on top of my head
and growing ever closer. The floor, too, feels like it’s rising up, like I’m being smashed in from all
sides. The sliver of light up ahead pushes me forward and as it grows bigger, the vice grip on my
chest starts to release. When I step out into the overcast day, I let out the breath I haven’t been able
to take and keep walking.

“Riorson?” Brennan questions behind me. “You okay?”

I don’t answer, nor do I stop until I’m at the very edge of the cliff. I close my eyes and try to fill my
lungs with sea air.

“He’s claustrophobic,” I hear Garrick explain. Brennan replies, but I don’t bother to hear him. I
keep trying to breathe. It takes several tries before it feels like I’m getting any air, let alone enough
air. I check in on the shield and it’s still there. That doesn’t help.

She’s fine. Sgaeyl must know I’m having a moment if she’s being kind. Just busy. Everyone is fine.
And so are you. Take a few more deep breaths.

I take ‘everyone is fine’ to mean there have been no catastrophic parapet moments.

It’s a few more minutes before I feel able to move on with the rest of my day. I turn to face Garrick
and Brennan. Brennan has climbed a rock and is sitting with his back to us, overlooking the ocean,
lost in thought. Chradh is lounging, not a care in the world. Garrick, however, is watching me with
a familiar look of concern.

“That one lasted a while.”

“We were in that cave for a while,” I counter. “Brennan and I are camping here tonight. You’re in
charge until we return.”

“I’ll hang out for a while before I head back.”

I know what he’s doing. He’s hovering to make sure I’m okay.

Not many people know about the claustrophobia. Garrick, Bohdi, Liam.

My dad.

Now Brennan.

I don’t want people to know. It makes me feel weak, that I can’t stand to be in an enclosed space
for more than a couple of minutes, tops, before my chest caves in on itself and my breath becomes
short. Garrick’s right, though. This little episode did last longer than usual. Usually, all I need is to
get into open space. Even if I’m still inside, as long as the walls aren’t close, I'm okay, although
getting outside is preferable. I think of that night when Violet was attacked, and I led her through
the tunnel. To her, I was fueled by rage and rushing to sneak her out of the quadrant. And I was, to
an extent. I was livid that she had been attacked, afraid she was hurt worse than I could tell, and I
needed to get her out of there and figure out what the hell happened in that room. But mostly, the
tunnel felt even smaller than it normally did, and I needed to get to the field on the other side as
quickly as possible so I could breathe again.

I’m no fool. Well, I am, but not about this. I know what happened in that cave isn’t just the
claustrophobia. It was mostly the feeling of the walls closing in around me, but it was also
everything else. The pressure on me is immense, and the pressure I put on myself is even greater. I
have to keep it together though. Lives – thousands of them – depend on it.

Neither of them press more and we sit around for a while not talking much, eating what I guess
passes as a light lunch. Garrick must decide I’m of sound mind and body again, because he takes
off, promises to do a good job in my absence. Brennan and I decide to at least climb the cliff face,
get that part out of the way since our only other option is to sit around at the cave entrance and I’ve
had enough of that place today. It takes twice the time to go up and by the time we reach the top,
we’re exhausted. Still, we walk a little further, until we’re well out of daylight, and we find another
fucking cave to camp out in for the night.

I unroll my pack outside.

“Risking the elements?” Brennan asks from the cave entrance.

“I’ll take my chances with the wild animals,” I confirm. He doesn’t question it – that’s a trait him
and Violet absolutely do not share because she would either insist I sleep under shelter or insist on
sleeping out in the elements with me – and disappears into the cave for the night.

It’s not all together uncomfortable, lying on the ground, hands laced behind my head, eyes on the
sky. It’s a cloudy night and I get lost in watching the clouds shift and move. They thin out on
occasion, letting a peek of the waxing moon through, only to hide it once more moments later. I’m
in a familiar place, tired but unable to sleep. I haven’t slept well since my dad died, since before,
really, when he left to declare the secession, but especially since. That one night I got to spend with
Violet, I’d slept some. Not much – I was too keyed up from finally being with her and then
wondering what it all meant and how I was going to navigate things moving forward – but I did
sleep, and those few hours were, truly, the last good sleep I’ve had.

Are you still awake?

Thank the gods.

Always.

A pause, like she’s digesting that, analyzing what it could mean.

Sloane made it across the parapet. Didn’t even bobble. She’s a force.

Sounds like Sloane.

Marcum made it, too.

Seriously? There’s no hiding my surprise. I didn’t want him to fail. If I’d been there, I would have
helped him as much as I could. But even my sometimes blind faith in the marked ones isn’t enough
and Marcum is one of a few that I think would have chosen death if given a choice/

He pulled himself across the parapet. Laid down on it and dragged himself to the other side.

Codex doesn’t say how you have to cross it, just that you do, I recall.

I have them both in my squad. Rhiannon was on assignment duty. I told her to put Sloane in mine
beforehand and she took it upon herself to add Marcum, too. Said she could see the similarities
there.

I assure you, you two are nothing alike.

Gods, I miss her.

Took you long enough to report out.

It’s my way of asking if she’s okay, if there had been any trouble today, without outright asking.
I’m walking a tightrope with this connection to her, using it to build her trust in me, to have any
sort of contact with her. I don’t want to blow my cover. I don’t want to risk her shutting me out, no
matter how much she knows we need this connection.

I was a little busy, she informs me. We lost seventy-eight today.

Gods.

That’s astronomical, even by Conscription Day standards.

Seventy-two on the parapet. The dragons took out six more.

I’d have liked to seen their faces when Tairn landed.

It was priceless, she assures me and I can see her in my mind’s eye, the smug little smile that she
has the most badass dragon of them all. Two of them at that. Andarna made quite the impression,
too.

Have you gotten many questions about her sudden growth spurt?

Not really. Dragons mature at odd rates. Now they’re all curious about what signet, if any, she’ll
give me.

Don’t tell…

I won’t, she says. Even though that power is long gone.

She sounds sad and I hate it.

You’ll be interested to know that Carr had the audacity to ask if I thought Sgaeyl might be
interested in bonding with a new rider, she continues.

That fucker.

Don’t worry, Commandant, comes Sgaeyl’s voice. You're a pain in my ass, but I would never.

I’m still alive so she can’t, but that still makes me feel better.
I decide to try something.

Guess where Brennan and I are.

You’re not in Aretia?

You’ll have to guess.

Riorson…

Fucking last name.

Remember how I told you I’d be able to find you, wherever? Try it. We need to make sure you can
do it. It might come in handy during battle.

Things I don’t want to think about? Violet in battle.

Things that are inevitable? Violet in battle.

What do I do?

Concentrate on me. Whatever it is that you see in your Archive that represents me, focus on that.
Ask it to find me, and then allow it to show you.

She goes quiet for a bit, yet I can still feel her there. I know in my bones she’s going to get this.
Something about Violet’s mind is built differently than most and whatever this connection is
between us lets us open it up even more.

A forest? Somewhere near Aretia.

I fucking beam.

That’s my brilliant girl.

The words tumble from me before I can stop them. It was only a matter of time before I slipped up.
I just wish it hadn’t been tonight.

There’s a few beats of silence and I’m wondering if she’s still there when she speaks agai

Why are you and Brennan in a forest near Aretia?

So we’re going to pretend that didn’t happen. Okay then. Hurts a little, but I’ll go with it.

We hiked to a cave tucked into the side of the Cliffs of Dralor today and hid that damned box deep
within it. Garrick and his dragon transported it there. He’s back at the fortress as acting
commandant until Brennan and I get back tomorrow.

You – and my brother – climbed up and down the Cliffs of Dralor today? she clarifies.

Yep. Down isn’t bad. Up was exhausting.

That was stupid, Riorson.

Fucking last name.

We couldn’t leave the box in Aretia. The venin are surely looking for it, and if the Navarrian forces
don’t know it's missing yet, they will.
Then send Garrick and Chradh. Don’t go climbing the cliffs yourself

It’s done, I dismiss, although part of me is strutting like a peacock that she sounds worried about
me. My shadows would have caught us if we fell, and Brennan would put us back together if we
broke anything.

Idiots.

I don’t think I was supposed to hear that.

You were.

I chuckle.

It’s incredible how less lonely I feel with Violet chatting in my mind, even if she’s across the
continent and I’m lying on a forest floor.

I decide to push that trust agenda of mine a little bit. I spit the words out before I can think better of
it and pull them back in, close to my chest where I tend to keep anything that makes me feel
exposed.

I’m claustrophobic.

A pause.

What?

I’m claustrophobic, I say again. I freak the fuck out in small spaces.

She’s quiet, still digesting this new piece of information. I continue.

I had a panic attack in the cave today.

Xaden…

I close my eyes. My first name. I relish it more than I should.

It’s a long, narrow cave. We were in there for about a half hour. I’m okay once I can get into an
open space and breathe. Not many people know. Garrick and Bodhi. Liam knew. I told Brennan
today. Had to since he was a witness. And now, you.

I hope she sees what this is. It’s me, sharing something that makes me feel vulnerable with her, the
person that puts me at my most vulnerable. I’m letting her in, something I failed to do previously. It
might take me a while, but little by little, I want her to know all of me.

Even the darkest parts.

You’re okay now?

I’m sleeping outside on the forest floor instead of inside the cave we found while starting the hike
back, but yeah, I’m okay.

Have you always been claustrophobic? Or did something happen?

My smart, smart girl.

This is where it gets real.

This is where I tell her things not even Garrick knows. Only Bodhi, and only because he saw and
overhead things as a kid that, while he’s never said it, I know he will take to his grave on my
behalf. I don’t know what the word is for that thing that goes past vulnerable and exposed, but this
is that.

My mom…

I stop. Gods, being vulnerable is hard.

You don’t have to.

I know.

She would never make me talk about something raw like this, no matter how much she wants to
hear it. I knew it anyway, but the night she got me off the parapet and sat me down on my bed and
said I didn’t have to talk about it proved it. She wanted me to share, but she wasn’t going to push
me over the edge.

Little did she know, I shared everything I had to give her that night.

I take a breath. I can share this, too.

She would lock me in a dark closet when I was young and leave me there for hours.

Violet’s gasp is horrified. I rush on while I still feel like I can.

My dad didn’t know. He would be gone, deployed on a mission or whatever, and she couldn't
handle me. Or I guess, didn’t want to. So she’d stash me away in a closet when she got tired of me
and let me out when she thought about it. Sometimes one of our staff would find me.

I don’t share any further. I don’t tell her about how my mom played it off as a game of hide and
seek or what happened when my dad came home early and found me curled up and scared in a
small linen closet, when a brave housekeeper finally spoke up and voiced her concerns.

I’m so sorry, Xaden. My. First. Name. You didn’t deserve that.

The logical part of my brain knows that. The broken part of it? It wonders, often, if maybe I did
deserve it. If my own mother couldn’t love me…

So yeah, I say to avoid that line of thought, claustrophobic.

Where is…

She doesn’t finish her question, but I know what she’s asking. I know, too, that she knows my mom
didn’t die in the rebellion. That steel trap memory of hers would remember the name.

No fucking idea. Dad kicked her out when I was five. Never saw or heard from her again.

Violet is quiet for so long that I start to think she’s not there. The shield is down, but maybe she
fell asleep. It’s late. She should be sleeping.

Great, now I’m thinking about her in bed.

Maybe I said too much. Maybe I misjudged the situation, and she doesn’t want to know…
We got a shit hand when it comes to mothers, didn’t we?

I smile a bit despite my melancholy. She’s still there.

Yeah, we did. I shift a little, try to get a little more comfortable. Go to sleep, Violence. You’ve had a
long day.

So have you.

Yeah. I’m going to try to sleep, too.

I think she knows I won’t.

Goodnight.

My chest tightens, but it’s not panic this time. It’s that Violet is telling me goodnight and I can’t
remember the last time someone said goodnight to me.

Goodnight, Violet.

I let the bond drop.

Okay.

I did it.

I let her in.

I shared something with her.

I do a quick check. All of my limbs are still present. My heart is still beating. I’m still breathing.
The sky didn’t fall, and the earth didn’t crack open. Nothing bad happened by opening up to
someone. And really, I did it twice today. I told Brennan about the claustrophobia. Technically,
Garrick did, but I didn’t stop him, and I didn’t try to hide it. Someone give me a fucking medal.

You did good.

Sgaeyl.

That was fucking hard.

Most things worthwhile are.

When did you become such a sage?

When you finally decided you have something – someone – to lose.

I lost her anyway.

For now. If Sgaeyl were human, she would shrug right now. Things that are meant to be are bound
to stay.

She falls quiet and so do I.

I finally fall into a light sleep with the hope that maybe, just maybe, Sgaeyl is right.

Maybe someday, Violet will stay.

Chapter End Notes

When I started writing this chapter, I had no idea Xaden was going to have
claustrophobia. But as I wrote, it felt like he was supposed to be claustrophobic and
when Violet asked, it felt like his mom was going to the cause. I was debating on what
I wanted her storyline to be and this is where it all came together. I tend to start writing
with a vague idea and a knowledge of where I want it to end, and then go from there,
no outline, no plan, just letting the characters talk. This update is where I let those
characters dictate what happens.

I also think this was a pivotal moment for Xaden and Violet. We still have a few
chapters to go before they're back in the same location, but time apart... may be exactly
what they need.

Thank you so much for reading, sharing, reviewing, commenting... I read and reply to
each of them and I adore you for it. A few of you have found me on Instagram and
Tumblr. Pro sleuths - as one myself, I salute you! For those of you who may want to
follow along, here you go:

Instagram - @SarahWylandWrites

Tumblr - Sarah Wyland Tumblr

 Chapter 7
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

I have become very good at playing the system. They want us to think it’s all rules and order and
regulations, but it’s not. It’s well-placed words and convenient timing and promises of favors that
will go unfilled.

And I am very good at it.

It’s like I learned from the best.

I blink away the image of Xaden that floats to mind.

I have managed to get Marcum put on scribe duty with me. This is his third day. He didn’t say one
word on the first two days. I’m hoping we can change that today.

“I was going to be a scribe,” I say conversationally as we push the cart through the halls. “I trained
with my dad for years, and then under Professor Markham after he died. My mom had other plans
for me, though.”

He says nothing, but I catch the curious glance he gives me.

“Would it be worth guessing you don’t want to be a rider?” I continue.

“It wasn’t my first choice.”

No shit.

At least he spoke.

“What did you want to be?”

“Anything else.”

Cool.

“Same.” That curious gaze flickers my way again. “That’s not how it is in my family though.
Sorrengails are riders. To quote my mother.”

“General Sorrengail.”

“One in the same.”

I make sure to say it with a touch of contempt. And only a touch of contempt, because I can
certainly muster up plenty of contempt these days.

“She killed my mother,” he says.

“If we’re being fair, your side killed my brother.”

I watch to see if he has any indication that Brennan is alive. If he does, he does a damned good job
of hiding it.
“Fen Riorson killed your brother,” he corrects. “His son may as well have condemned me as
well.”

Now we’re getting somewhere. I slow our pace minutely.

“Not a fan of Xaden Riorson, I take it?”

Marcum looks me right in the eye.

“I’m glad the bastard is dead.”

Sgaeyl positively roars in my mind.

I’d keep him far away from her, Tairn advises.

Away from me, too, Andarna chimes in. I’ll roast him.

We have established that Andarna is very pro Xaden. She might be huge, but she’s still an
adolescent at heart. A dragon that hasn’t had her heart broken. She sees Xaden as the man who
saved my life by making the decision to take me to Aretia, and that’s enough for her.

I try to control my own reaction. I’m supposed to be glad Xaden is so-called dead, too.

“Some say he gave you the chance to survive instead of the certainty of death.”

Me. I’m some.

No matter my complicated feelings towards him, I believe that. Without Xaden, one hundred and
seven innocent children would be dead. And their blood would have been on my mother’s hands.

“I’d rather be dead.”

“I’m sorry,” I say. I’m genuine. I know what it’s like to be forced into something you didn’t want.
Although I think I would certainly prefer the chance to live over certain death. And if we’re being
technical about it, my mom’s insistence that I be a rider ended up putting me exactly where I’m
supposed to be.

“Is it true that Riorson and his cronies were going to kill you?” he asks.

“That was their plan.”

We as a collective have largely moved on from Xaden’s supposed attempt to kill me, but it comes
up from time to time. Like now. And each time, it stings. It’s the idea of Xaden being dead that
bothers me, that makes me try to change the subject as quickly as possible. I can’t fathom a world
in which he isn’t in it.

“Not surprising. People hate you back home.”

“I’m not my mother,” I can’t help but say. “What about your father? Was he in the rebellion?”

“No. He was a scribe.”

And that’s it. He offers no more. Still, he talked, so I’ll consider that progress. And he said ‘was.’
Was a scribe.

We reach the archives and Jesinia is waiting. She signs in greeting and I reply, hand her today’s
list. Marcum and I wait in silence once she disappears. I let my thoughts drift since Marcum is
certainly not going to keep me company. I think about the paper I need to write at some point. I
also need to spend some time with Rhiannon. I’ve been a little absent, trying to keep my squad
alive and the revolution a secret. I think again about telling her the truth, but I can’t. There is just
too much at risk. And there I go, understanding Xaden’s choices a little more.

Then there’s the weapons run that Bodhi is going to lead tomorrow night. I don’t know why that
makes me nervous. He’s basically Xaden, Jr. He’s been running weapons and doing Xaden’s
bidding for years, apparently even when they were young kids and playing kid games around the
fortress. A fortress. Xaden grew up in a fucking castle. I’m right back to mad at him. I’m beginning
to realize it’s not the fact that he hid so much from me. It’s that he kept so much from me. And that
I told him I love him, and he did – nothing. He shared nothing. He’s as closed off as he ever was.

Except.

He’s claustrophobic.

He offered that up all by himself. No prompting, no needling. Just I’m claustrophobic. Then he
told me about his mother, and I was so overcome by rage that I scorched my bedding. Wherever
she is, I hope she’s dead.

Me too.

Sgaeyl agreeing with me is paramount to a miracle.

Jesinia returns.

“Here you go,” she signs. She glances at Marcum. He’s leaning against a wall, lost in thoughts of
his own and paying no attention to us. “And this is for you.”

She slips me a small, thin leather book. I glance at it before tucking it into the safety of my pack.
It’s a book of fables. Not the book of fables, but there are fables nonetheless. I’ll read those
tonight, see if there is anything to them.

“Thank you,” I sign. “I miss reading.”

“If I come across anything else, I’ll let you know.”

I thank her again and signal for Marcum. He pushes off the wall and falls in next to me.

He doesn’t say another word.

I eat breakfast with Rhiannon and Ridoc and the day dissolves into chaos from there. I watch hand-
to-hand, note how Sloane takes down her opponent with incredible ease, just like Liam would
have. I note, too, how Marcum gets his ass handed to him. Except in his case, he doesn’t even try.
I’m at a loss as to how to reach him.

You can’t save everyone, Silver One, comes Tairn’s voice.

I know, but…

You can’t save everyone, he cuts me off again. There will be war. Best learn this lesson now.

I tune him out. He’s not wrong, but I would rather not think about it.

“We’re meeting with them tonight.” Bodhi is next to me. He’s never far from me – Xaden’s orders
– but he’s not my shadow like Liam was. He has other orders, too. And Xaden knows I can take
care of myself. “Imogen and I.”

“What time?”

Bodhi shakes his head.

“You can’t, Violet.”

“But…”

“We trust you,” he cuts me off. “They don’t. Not really.”

I sigh. He’s not wrong. Most of the marked ones still see me as the daughter of the woman who
cost them their parents.

“Two nights in a row?” I change subjects – sort of. It’s a massive risk for him to sneak out tonight
to meet with the marked ones, tomorrow to run weapons.

“There are fewer of us,” he replies. “We’re doing what we have to.”

“I can…”

“No,” he shakes his head. “Never mind that most of them still see you as General Sorrengail’s
daughter.” I cringe at him echoing my thoughts back to me. “Xaden would kill me.”

He floats off and I’m left to stew on the realization that despite not having a rebellion relic, it’s the
marked ones I want to associate with. Want to protect. Want to help. I knew I left my old life
behind when I made it across that parapet, but I really have become someone entirely different.

Someone I’m proud of.

Even if this version of me does fall for tall, dark, and truth-omitting shadow wielders.

I hang out with my friends after dinner, and it feels good to feel normal. Yet as soon as the night
rolls around, I start to worry about the clandestine meeting of marked ones.

How, Riorson, are they going to sneak out without your shadows?

They did it all the time without them, even when I was there.

I want to go with them.

Absolutely not.

I could help.

No. And if Bodhi lets you, it will be his head.

I know I can’t go, I admit. But I want to.

I know. He’s softer now. You’re doing enough, Violence.

You wouldn’t really kill Bodhi.

I’d kick his ass though.

I quirk a smile as I walk.

“It’s good to see you smiling.”

I stop. I was so lost in thought and then conversation that I didn’t notice Dain walking towards me.
Shit. I’ve been doing my best to full on avoid him. Some interaction is inevitable, but I try to limit
any one-on-one time with him. It’s tempting to blow him off, but I see Bodhi step out of a room up
ahead with a marked firstyear. He sees Dain and yanks the first year back into the room. I can’t go
with them to their meeting, but I can help them get there. I don’t smile, but I don’t glare at Dain the
way I want.

“Dain,” I greet.

“Can we talk?” he counters with a hopeful expression. “Please?”

I want to say no. Badly. But this is how I help.

“Fine.”

He looks like I’ve given him the keys to the kingdom.

If he ever got his hands on my real memories, he probably would be gifted with the keys to the
kingdom as a thank you.

“Let’s go somewhere quieter,” I suggest. I don’t want to be overheard – and it’s easier to take care
of one person versus several if things do go south. Mostly though, I need to give Bodhi some
breathing room.

Violence?

I’m running interference to give Bodhi a clear path.

I don’t dare tell him I’m going somewhere quiet to talk to Dain. He’ll lose his shit. I close the
shield and even without him in my head, I can hear the string of curse words he’s probably issuing
right now at having no idea what’s going on.

It’s good for him, to get a taste of how I felt about being left in the dark.

We end up in the courtyard and sit down on a bench. I wait for him to speak first. I’m giving him
absolutely nothing.

“How are you?” he starts.

“Fine,” I shrug.

“Fine?” he questions. “They were going to kill you, Violet. And you had to kill them. I know you
don’t like killing people…”

“First of all, no one should enjoy killing people and if they do, they are the person that should lose
their life.” I think of Jack Barlowe. Case in point. “I did what I had to do to survive, and it’s not like
it was the first time it was me against a group who wanted to kill me.”

“You and Riorson had a – thing.”

He’s probing.
“We had sex.” I say it like I’m correcting him, not like it meant something to me. And because I
can’t help myself… “Honestly? It was pretty damn good sex, too.”

Good. Great. Explosive. Mind blowing.

Gods, I miss sex.

The Commandant is ready and willing.

Shut up, Sgaeyl.

She snorts.

“You had sex. You were wearing his jacket. And now he’s dead because he tried to kill you.”

“What are you getting at?” I ask.

“I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay, Violet. You went through a traumatic event…”

He has no fucking idea.

Or, well, maybe he does. I might not trust Xaden, but I trust Dain a hell of a lot less. And I do trust
Xaden with my life.

Dain?

Not so much.

“This entire last year has been traumatic,” I inform him. “You did nothing to make it easier.”

“I couldn’t…”

“You wouldn’t,” I correct. “It’s not just your fixation with rules and order though. You have had no
faith in me the entire time I’ve been here. You’ve constantly tried to get me out of this quadrant,
constantly tried to hold me back. In case you haven’t noticed, Dain, I’m far more capable than
anyone thought I was when I walked across that parapet. You were my best friend before, but I left
that life behind me when I stepped off that parapet. We are not friends anymore. You are my
superior officer, that’s it.”

“Violet.” He’s wounded and I don’t care. “All I wanted was to keep you safe and the safest place
for you is anywhere that isn’t this quadrant.”

“You would still push me into the Scribe Quadrant if you could.”

“I would,” he confirms. I shake my head in disbelief. All that I’ve done, all that I’ve accomplished,
and he still doesn’t think I belong in the Riders Quadrant “I had a plan, Violet.”

“Oh, please, do share that plan with me.”

“You were going to go to the scribe quadrant,” he says. “I was going to finish school here, become
a full-fledged rider, and then once I had my orders, I was going to ask you to be with me. I was
going to marry you, Violet. We were going to have a family.”

“And I got no say in that plan?” I ask. Because I’m certain I didn’t. He expected me to be – he still
expects me to be – the same quiet, docile Violet I used to be. He can’t let go of a version of me that
no longer exists.
“I thought you wanted that, too…”

“Perhaps I did once,” I say because I did want that quiet life once. Perhaps I still want parts of that
life, down the road when this revolution is settled and I’m free to think about what comes next. “I
don’t now. Not anymore.”

Not with Dain, at least.

“I’m sorry, Violet.” He has the audacity to reach for me. I smack his hand away. “Violet…”

“You do not touch without my permission ever again,” I spit. “Riorson and his group may have
tried to kill me, but I saw the missive before things went to shit. I know they were sent there to die
anyway. I know, too, that you stole the memory that led them to being sent there. And you let me
go with them.”

He knows he’s been caught. His features arrange into guilt.

“Riorson was trying to revive what his father’s death ended,” he says. “He was helping the enemy.
We couldn’t allow it….”

“Could you prove that?” I interrupt. I need to know what they know. If they suspect something,
which I’m sure they suspect something, we don’t have a lot of time.

“Well, no,” he admits. “But given the memory and Riorson’s history, it wasn’t hard to come to the
logical conclusion that they were most likely…”

“You can’t take lives based on a theory,” I spit at him. “And again, you let me go with them. To
die. Based on a theory.”

Every single time I think I can’t hate the person Dain has become more, I’m proven very, very
wrong.

“I couldn’t stop you from going. He was the wingleader, and the string of command dictates…
And you wanted to go with him…”

Nothing he can say will change my mind. He has no idea that his tight grip on order and rule will
likely be his downfall.

“You don’t touch me again,” I say once more. “And we are not friends.” Surely Bodhi has had
enough time to get everyone out. I stand and make my departure. I’m halfway across the courtyard
when he speaks again.

“People notice who you’re spending time with,” he calls. I stop, turn to look at him. “You’re
always with Bodhi and Imogen. People notice.”

I fucking hate him.

“Bodhi and Imogen saved my life.” Not a lie. They saved a lot of lives that night, mine included.
“I’ll decide who I'm friends with.”

“You may have to choose,” he warns, and I wonder again what he knows. “The marked ones… We
don’t know a lot about them, and who knows what those two learned from Riorson before he died.
We can’t even get into his old room to burn his stuff because of the power of the wards he has
around the door.”
They can’t get into Xaden’s room? His stuff is still here?

Interesting.

“Bodhi turned his back on his own family,” I remind him, working to reinforce the idea that Bodhi
and Imogen are loyal to Navarre. “Imogen turned her back on her friends. To save me. My loyalty
is to the people who are loyal to me. And they are.”

I turn on my heel and hope he reads between the lines.

My loyalty is no longer to Dain Aetos.

Or anything he stands for.

But he did give me a valuable piece of information.

I wait several hours, until the school is quiet and I’m certain I can sleuth undetected, before I slip
out again. I’m rolling the dice, but if Xaden warded my room so I could get in, but so could he,
maybe – maybe – he did the same thing to his room. I’m not confident – he kept so many secrets –
but I have to find out.

I reach the third year floor and it’s still quiet and still. I’m operating on assumption that Bodhi and
Imogen got back with the marked ones okay. Surely I would have heard something by now, seeing
as two of them are in my squad. I slip down the hall, sticking close to the wall to use the shadows –
ironic – as cover. Xaden’s door is unassuming when I reach it. No one would know the room is
inaccessible just by looking at it. I try the knob and to my great surprise, it turns. I push and the
door opens.

Don’t look so surprised, comes Tairn’s voice. Of course he trusted you enough to allow you past
his wards.

I’m certain there is a double entendre there but I’m not going to dig into it right now.

I close the door with a quiet click and lean back against it to take the space in. I know Xaden isn’t
dead. I very much know that. Yet seeing his room, left exactly as it had been when we left for War
Games, a moment preserved in time, slices through me. His sheets are a mess, his window still
blown out. It’s hard for me to comprehend that six weeks ago, we were insatiable, that he had
finally given in to that pull between us and I was working on a fifth orgasm as I rode him, slow and
deep and focused more on the connection, on being as close to him as I could be, than the orgasm
itself when Garrick interrupted us. It’s too close to the truth – to life being snuffed out. While
Xaden is alive and safe in Aretia, there is a “what if” quality to seeing the room he never returned
to that makes my stomach flip.

What if he hadn’t made it out alive that night?

What if he had told me the truth long ago?

What if I had stayed in Aretia?

What if we had stayed together?

I push off the door and take a few steps in, taking in the details I didn’t have time to study before.
He was nervous when we first got here, worried in part that someone would see us, a first year
with her wingleader, but mostly, I think about having me in his personal space. He gave the
impression that despite the rumors that he hadn’t exactly been lonely during his time at Basgiath,
he didn’t bring partners back to his quarters.

You have always been different, Sgaeyl says.

Special, echoes Andarna.

Despite the disarray from our romp, the room still holds onto that same air of immaculacy. Every
book is still in place, every weapon save for the ones he strapped himself with to go to Athebyne
remains in position. His armory is impressive, and I once again wonder how many challenges he’s
won. I wonder, too, what that first year was like for him. I’d guess he proved himself fast if Sgaeyl
bonded with him.

You should ask him, Andarna prompts.

Truly, a shipper.

His armoire catches my eye. He didn’t want me to open it that night, told me to leave his boots
next to it. The boots are gone, but whatever was in the armoire is still there, most likely. I stride
across the room and pull the doors open. It’s neatly organized, his clothing hung or else folded
with militant precision. I think for the first time to wonder where the order comes from. Is he just
that neat? Is it his training? Was it something he learned from his dad?

Ask him, Andarna urges.

I keep ignoring her as I shuffle through the clothes. Everything seems to be in order. Nothing
suspicious, nothing he wouldn’t want me to see. I check pockets and search for any sort of hidden
compartment, but I come up empty-handed. Maybe he took whatever was in it with him.

Sometimes an armoire is just an armoire, Tairn advises.

Yeah, well, Tairn didn’t hear him say “leave them there” that night.

You should ask him.

Is that suddenly the only phrase you know? I ask Andarna.

She’s young, but even she knows the two of you could solve a lot by talking, Sgaeyl chimes in.

I’m ignoring all three of you now.

I let my fingers linger over one of his tunics, remember what it was like to remove it, to feel his
skin against mine. I swear, his room smells like mint.

I stop my line of thinking and wander to his desk. A neat stack of graded papers sits in a corner. I
pick up the top one. It’s a paper for Battle Brief with a perfect score and a note of praise from
Markham. All of his scores are perfect or close to it as I flip through the stack. I wonder when he
had time to do his homework, given what he was actually up to, but it’s his messy handwriting and
the phrases that pop out as I skim the pages sound like Xaden, proof this is, in fact, his work.

I open the long drawer at the top. It has a collection of maps and notes from classes. I skim them,
realize Xaden has strategically kept notes from classes – especially Battle Brief – that look
innocent enough, but that would aid him in his weapons runs, his plotting for the revolution. If
found, no one would suspect him of doing anything more than holding on to reference material.
The next drawer holds similar content, just older. I stop skimming when I find his evaluation. We
each get one midway through our second year.
Ruthless. Powerful. Cunning. Strategic. Intelligent.

Those words pop off the paper. I know somewhere in this college there is a more in-depth file on
each of us, that what they really think of Xaden is held there. I’d be interested to read it. I’d be very
interested to read mine.

Natural leader.

Loose interpretation of the rules.

I snort at that one.

Recommended for wingleader next year.

It occurs to me for the first time that Xaden was the first of the marked ones to go through the
quadrant, along with Garrick and a few others. He was the oldest though, the one that took a
responsibility far above what he, at seventeen, should have taken on. The Riders Quadrant isn’t a
walk in the park for anyone, but I’d guess they made it near impossible for Xaden, at least at first.
He navigated it. He survived it. Now he’s primed to burn it down.

Gods, I think I love him more than I already do.

His bottom drawer looks empty at first. I go to close it, but then Sgaeyl speaks.

It’s a false bottom.

If she’s helping, she must want me to see whatever is in here. Or Xaden does.

I feel around the bottom and find a place near the back where my fingers can just get purchase in a
divot. I press and the bottom pops up to reveal a shallow compartment under it. I pull it out and
gasp. There is a stack of letters and I know that handwriting.

Brennan.

Xaden and Brennan have been communicating for – I flip through the stack – the entire time Xaden
was at Basgiath. I read through a few at random, but none of them make sense. They are all in the
‘greetings from home’ vein and none of them are actually addressed to Xaden. They come to
others – Garrick, Bodhi, Imogen – and are all signed off by different names. Brennan is a sister in
one, an uncle in another, a nephew in still another. They are well-coded and innocent enough. I
have no idea what any of them mean.

You should…

Do not finish that sentence, I snap back.

I am going to ask him about them though. I consider taking them with me, but instead, I tuck them
back into the drawer and make sure they are hidden before I turn to his bookshelf. He has at least
three dozen books and I can feel the excitement pulsing through me as I pluck a random one off the
shelf. I again wonder where he got them, how he got them, because I don’t see him as the kid who
– like me – tried to bring a library with him into a war college.

I expect to see books about strategy, war. Instead, I find books on philosophy, history. There are
several biographies, a few novels which make me salivate. I’m definitely taking one of these with
me, and I don’t even care what the story is about. I deserve to escape into a book that’s not a fable
about mythical creatures that are not mythical at all.
I’m just about ready to call it a night when a thin book pressed between two thicker volumes
catches my eye.

An Prionsa Beag.

The Little Prince.

My dad read this story to me, to Mira, to Brennan. It’s a children’s story of a young dragon who is
born into royalty. Everyone around him is bigger, faster, stronger, and he wants to be just like them.
He tries and tries and fails and fails until he finally understands that it takes time to develop his
own unique skills and that one day, he, too, will be great. The fact that Xaden has this story on his
shelf pulls at my heart in a way that makes me want to throw myself in his arms despite my
mistrust. It’s a worn copy, and I know him well enough – I think I do, anyway – to know that he
wouldn’t have it if it didn’t mean something to him. I turn the pages, taking in the illustrations,
able to recite the story almost by heart. Near the end, I find a piece of paper tucked into it. I pluck
it from the folds, turn it over.

I gasp.

It’s a sketch of a young Xaden and a man that has to be his father because the adult Xaden looks
exactly – almost frighteningly so – like him. Fen Riorson is seated behind a desk, Xaden in his lap.
Fen has a book in hand. He’s reading to Xaden and my heart breaks. I’ve gleaned enough in the
few passing things Xaden has said about his father to know Fen was a good father, that he loved
his son. I can practically feel their bond as I take in the sketch and now that I know about his
mother, it crushes me that he lost his father simply because Fen had the balls to do the right thing.
It was never about money or power or whatever else our side tried to blame the revolution on. It
was about hiding the truth and sacrificing those on the fringes of our kingdom in order to maintain
the status quo and false sense of peace.

Going through my things, Violence?

I’m not at all surprised to hear Xaden’s voice in my head.

Sgaeyl has got to stop spying.

No.

I smile a bit despite my – admittedly mild, at the moment at least – annoyance that his dragon
consistently reports back on my activities to him.

You have a lot of books, Riorson.

You’re not the only one that likes to read, Violet.

He says it in a way that is laced with melancholy, and I wish I could use Rhiannon’s powers to
send him the book in my hands. I know it means something to him. I know he would have never
left it if he had any idea he wouldn’t be coming back.

Anything in this room you need me to smuggle out? I ask to see what he’ll tell me. Like something
in the armoire, perhaps?

I’m still not totally convinced there wasn’t something in that armoire he didn’t want me to see.

There was never anything in the armoire, Violence. I just… He trails off and I’m not giving him
the out.
I just…?

He sighs.

I couldn’t stand the sight of you walking away, even it were just a few paces, not right then, when it
was the day it was and you were being all you. I wanted you with me.

Oh.

Okay.

I always want you with me, Violence.

I close my eyes and let the wave of emotions that comes with his words wash through me. There is
hurt, love, anger, adoration. I want to hug him hard, throw a dagger at him. These complicated
feelings need to be resolved, but for now, there is too much else I need to focus on, especially
when we’re a continent apart.

Xaden…

Did you find the letters?

He’s jumping right back to the professional communication we’re supposed to use this connection
for. I could press back into the whole ‘always want you with me’ thing, or I can roll with the
change.

I roll with it.

I did. I don’t understand them.

They’re well-coded. I needed a way to communicate with Brennan. It wasn’t ideal and it took a
while to get letters in and out, and then to work out what they said, but we made do.

Do you need any of them?

No. Anything left behind will have to stay. I do take a certain pleasure in knowing they can’t get
into my room though.

Yet I can?

Of course you can.

I check the time. It’s after four in the morning. Those on breakfast duty will start waking soon.

Why are you awake? I ask Xaden.

Couldn’t sleep. You should probably head back to your room. People will be up soon.

I’m going.

He lets the bond drop, and he’s right, I need to get back to my room before I’m caught. It would be
near impossible to explain why I’m in Xaden’s room, let alone how I got into Xaden’s room. I pick
up the novel I decided to take, but I also tuck the sketch back into An Prionsa Beag and slip the
book into my jacket.

Xaden may be okay with leaving everything behind.

 I’m not.

Chapter End Notes

I detest writing Dain, but he has to make the occasional appearance, I guess...
Marcum's dad, a scribe? Interesting. But mostly, Violet sneaking into Xaden's room
and taking his books.

Thank you a million times over for reading. It means the world to me when I get
another notification of a comment or review!

Next chapter - more of Brennan and Xaden's bromance and Syrena and her sister make
their return...
 Chapter 8
Chapter Notes

Whew. I was not anticipating how many of you got emotional last update! Thank you
a thousand times over for reading. This one - has a different kind of emotion to it...

See the end of the chapter for more notes

People think war is about what side can kill the most people. They think it is about taking lands or
capturing valuable people or objects. That’s what they sing about. What they write about. Those
are the stories told by the warriors who live to tell war tales.

They are wrong.

War is about strategy.

It’s about having the right people in the right place. It’s about making educated guesses and
praying to the gods that you’re right. It’s about knowing your enemy. It’s about taking a risk,
gambling on a feeling. It’s a game of chess and a race to the checkmate.

I’m fucking great at chess.

Because my dad taught me how to play.

I study the map tacked to the wall. My mind spins through one scenario after another. I know
which outposts are abandoned. I know which ones I believe we can overtake if needed. I know
which ones are located in or near civilian villages. I know which ones Navarre has a hold on, which
ones would be difficult to overthrow.

I also know their weaknesses.

Thanks, Battle Brief.

I think through where I can station people, who those people should be. Gryphon fliers there,
dragon riders here. I think, too, of resources. I have to make sure there is food, water. I need
healers, menders, if I can find them. I have scouts out in pairs right now, surveying the abandoned
outposts, trusting they will stay undetected. I have sent emissaries to the border, hoping to gain
support. Bohdi was successful with the latest weapons run and Violet is my eyes and ears at
Basgiath. She’s reporting back on Battle Brief – I’m acting like it isn’t the highlight of my day to
hear from her – and Brennan, Garrick, and I are reading between the lines as best we can. We
spend our days strategizing, plotting, planning, trying to figure out as much of the full picture as we
can before we move into the open.

My thoughts turn to Violet as they tend to do.

I need to get her out of Basgiath. Some of it is selfish – surprise surprise – in wanting her here, with
me, where I can actively work on repairing our relationship instead of doing what I can via our
bond. Most of it is strategic. She’s not safe at Basgiath. The risks to her have changed. She’s no
longer the hunted, the weak link. She’s the one with the ability to burn it all down. It’s only a
matter of time before they know the rebels are moving again and in turn, only a matter of time
before they start calling riders into service. Violet will be first in line despite being a second year
and she’s not going to fight with them.

I don’t think.

I’ll admit it.

There’s a part of me – a very small part of me, miniscule, even – that wonders if she’s playing me.
If in the end, it will be her who betrays us.

If you think that, you really don’t deserve her.

Tairn.

I sigh.

I don’t deserve her regardless.

True.

Helpful fucking dragon.

You do deserve her, comes Sgaeyl’s voice. There’s a bite to it that tells me she’s ready to rip Tairn
a new one for pressing on the gaping wound in my heart that won’t heal until Violet is here with
me and I have her in my arms again. You’ll never get her back if you don’t start to believe that.

I don’t reply. I don’t know how to believe I deserve her. I’ve spent the last six years slipping
through shadows – literally, for the last three, since my signet manifested – making questionable
choices, at first doing whatever it took to survive, and then learning and manipulating the system so
I can overthrow it. Violet is good. I knew it from the moment she stepped up to the parapet. Before,
really. I heard about her from Brennan. He painted a picture of a girl who had some limitations but
who was the best of the Sorrengails. I saw that right off when I realized she had traded boots with
Rhiannon.

He didn’t say a fucking thing about her being beautiful.

No one warned me that I was going to fall head over fucking heels for her.

Because I did and I definitely did not want to. I had no intentions of falling in love, of – dare I say it
– building a life with someone. I was going to finish up at Basgiath, move this rebellion out into the
open, and either win or die trying.

Now?

Now, winning this war feels like no more than an obstacle to overcome in my quest to build a life –
a future – with Violet. Because that is what I want now. I want Violet by my side. I want Violet to
love Aretia like I do. I want her to fill this empty fortress with her, to make it feel like a home, like
it used to, instead of the cold, empty walls it is now. Dammit, I even want her to be my wife and to
have kids with me.

Kids.

Who the hell am I?

The first time I thought about the idea of a life with her was that first night, when I lay wide awake,
holding her close, kissing her brow or her cheek every time she sighed in her sleep. I was so
fucking grateful to be there, to be by her side, holding her. I thought about how I could, maybe, do
this. I could fall asleep with her every night, wake up with her every morning. We could leave
Basgiath, create a life together. I had the briefest flash of us with a little boy and a little girl and I
shut it down, still too deep in my “we can’t do this” beliefs to even allow a daydream and all too
soon, I was slipping out of her bed and hunting down violets even though I didn’t have time for it
because I just couldn’t let her wake up alone . That daydream hasn’t gone away. It gets more
crystal clear as time passes and whatever it is inside of me that has changed because of Violet
continues to evolve. I want it and that scares me to my core.

Even if she doesn’t want that life – if she wants to live somewhere else, doesn’t want to get
married, doesn’t want to have kids – fine. I just want a life with her. That’s it. That’s all. If I have
her, that will be all I need. More than I need.

I have got to get her out of Basgiath.

I tap on the shield between us.

Riorson?

Fucking last name.

Been thinking. How long do you need in Basgaith?

Meaning?

Meaning how long before we can get you – and the others – out of there?

I don’t have an answer to that. I still need to crack the scribes. I’d like the first years to bond with
their dragons, too.

I do the math. It’s early September. Threshing is a month out.

There’s logic to that, I admit. I don’t want Sloane and the other to have to fight, but in the end, they
may have to. They will be better off on a dragon than without one. All the same, we need to
determine an exit strategy. And a contingency plan in case you need to make a quick exit.

The dragons will get me out of here if needed.

I want you, Bodhi, and Imogen back here soon.

You can call them back at any time.

I curse. She’s stubborn and I love and hate that about her, particularly when it’s directed at me.

How is the scouting? she asks.

In progress. I’ll report out when I know more.

I hate how professional this is. I’ve slipped a few times, showed my hand. She’s remained strictly
business and I’m starting to go a little crazy with wondering if my standing with her has improved
at all. I’ve asked Sgaeyl, but she won’t tell me, says I need to work it out with Violet. I won’t dare
ask Tairn. He’s one false move away from torching me most of the time anyway, no matter his
loyalty to Sgaeyl. The one time I actually want them to meddle…

I’m about to spar, she says. Shield going up.

Wait, who are you…

And the shield is up.

Fuck.

Now I have to worry about that, too. Even though I know she can take care of herself. She’s quick
and capable and cunning and I don’t have to worry. Except I do because she’s Violet and she’s as
integral to my well-being as my own heartbeat.

Back to staring at the map.

I’m working out the logic behind sending a small riot to the border near the coast when my office
door flies open. My shadows try to scatter to attack, but I keep them close. Only two people in this
castle will dare to blow into my office like that – Garrick or Brennan.

“You’re a prince.”

Fucking fuck.

I let my feet drop from the windowsill I’d propped them up on and swivel in my chair to face
Brennan. He’s standing in front of me holding a familiar book. My fault. I should have burned it.
Definitely shouldn’t have left it in the library for anyone to find.

“You’re a prince,” he repeats. His tone is one of disbelief – and amusement. I swear the fucker’s
lips are threatening to turn up into a smile because he will know how very much I hate such a title.
I don’t even like being called Commandant.

Busted, Sgaeyl hums.

Fuck off.

She chuckles.

“This is too good,” Brennan says, eyes dancing. “Does explain the castle, though.”

“I want no part of it,” I say. “My father wanted no part of it. My grandfather, either.”

“Going to guess Violet has no idea?”

“No one has any idea,” I say. “Not even Bodhi who also has a title if we’re being technical. Our
kingdom and in turn the fucking monarchy my family held, was ceded to Navarre after the war. No
one alive knows that. We know the fucking scribes rewrote history.” I glare at him. “You would
unearth something buried in revised history for six hundred years.”

“You would be a prince,” he counters. His amusement is only growing at my clear disdain for it
all.

“It has no bearing on today. The Riorson monarchy was abolished six hundred years ago. The only
thing that book does now is keep track of our family genealogy. My dad wrote my name in it when
I was born. Bodhi’s mom added his name a year later.”

He’s the last entry.

He and I are the last of the Riorsons.

For now, at least.

“How did you find it, anyway?” I ask.

Even if it was still in the library, it was buried deep within the shelves among other old tomes and
works from hundreds of years ago. He had to be digging deep to find it.

“I was researching the bond between you and my sister. I haven’t unearthed much, but this,” he
waves the book around, “makes it worth the lost hours.”

“If Violet wouldn’t kill me, I’d strangle you with my shadows,” I threaten.

“Empty threats,” he dismisses, then levels me with a look. “You have to tell Violet.”

“I do now,” I counter. “That was the one thing I had every intention of letting die with me.” I hate
the fact that my family ruled this province back when Navarre didn’t exist, and each province was
its own kingdom. Absolute power corrupted them then. It’s corrupting us all now. “I want no part
of it. Absolute power is what got us here. I’m not going to reclaim a throne when this is said and
done.”

“No one else knows?” Brennan clarifies.

“Like I said, not even Bodhi knows.”

“It could come in handy,” Brennan hints. “Down the road.”

“It’s a very last option,” I say. It will take a fucking apocalypse for me to pull the royal bloodline
card. “I have no interest in that, Brennan. I don’t want to rule a kingdom.”

I want a life with Violet and for the people I care about to be safe and treated fair.

That’s it. A tall fucking order, but that’s it. That’s all I want.

“That’s the thing, Riorson,” Brennan says as he takes a seat across from me. “You may not want to
be the man in charge, but you are. People look to you. When this is over, when we’ve won? Well,
this city was the capital for a reason. Your family has a fortress for a reason.”

He’s right, but I don’t want him to be. I’m a natural born leader according to not just the Basgiath
reviews, but my father, too. I’m also a reluctant leader. I sometimes wonder what path I would have
chosen if I’d gotten to choose. I think I still would have been a rider. I never wanted to be anything
else, wanted to be just like my dad. I don’t think I would have led a revolution.

Or maybe I would have.

I don’t know.

No use in stewing on what I can’t change.

“Let’s just win this war first,” I decide. “We’ll figure out the rest after.”

There will be no monarchy. Of that I’m sure.

“You’re the boss.”

I wish I could argue.

“I tried to talk to Violet about getting her and the others out of Basgiath,” I tell him.

“Tried implies it didn’t go well,” Brennan interprets.

“She informed me I can call Bohdi and Imogen back at any point. She, however, wants to make it
through at least threshing. I see the logic, but the longer she’s there, the greater the risk.”

“She’s a valuable insider,” Brennan reminds me. “And I think we both know your reasons for
wanting her here aren’t strictly for war planning.”

“I intend on marrying your sister, Brennan.” I don’t bother to hide my intentions. “My reasons for
wanting her close will never be about her contributions to our war efforts.”

Brennan is quiet for a long time. I let him contemplate whatever is rolling around in his mind and
go back to my maps. At least they don’t talk back.

“Violet never wanted this life.”

I turn back to him, give him my full attention. I know this about Violet. I know she wanted a quiet
life of books and facts. I know she finds comfort in archive duty, that it’s not just her trying to glean
information. It’s a piece of home and a memory of her dad, and I’m grateful she has it. And I’d bet
good money that she took a book or two from my room to hide away in when her day is finally
done, and she can relax a little. Brennan has said she didn’t want this life several times, too. He said
it frequently when he first found out she was at Basgiath. I remember all too well the rage he went
into when he found out his mother had pushed her there, the absolute helplessness in him when he
knew he could do nothing other than ask me to look out for her. I wait, eager to hear what he adds
today, for him to share a little more of his version of Violet.

“She wanted to spend her days working in the archives and come home to a home, to a family.
Despite the way things ended up, we had a solid childhood. Sure, we moved a lot, but we had a
mom, a dad, each other. Even if the physical location changed, we had each other and that was
home. Violet wanted that. I think, deep down, she still wants that, even if she’s going on missions
with her dragons instead of to the archives. I need you to swear to me, right now, that you will
make sure she has that. You will make sure she’s taken care of and that she has not just what she
deserves, but what she wants.”

I realize the magnitude of what Brennan is asking then.

He’s asking me to take care of Violet, to promise that I will give her the life she wants should
something happen to him. He’s asking for a pact. I’m certain he knows he doesn’t have to ask this
of me, that I will absolutely do everything in my power to take care of Violet and make her happy,
but he needs this for his own peace of mind, his need to take care of his baby sister. I don’t make a
lot of promises, but this is one I know I can keep.

“I will always take care of Violet,” I promise him. “I’ll give her the life she wants – whatever it
looks like.” I pause, face the worst possible outcome of Violet and I, aside from death itself. “Even
if she doesn’t give me another chance, even if she never speaks to me again, I’ll make sure she’s
happy.”

It would rip me apart, but I would do it.

“Thank you,” Brennan nods. That line of gratitude is loaded, and I return his nod, accepting it.
“She’ll give you another chance. I know it’s killing you, but some time apart is a good thing. She
needs the space to reconcile all of this.”
I know he’s right. Violet’s world was rocked, not just by my deceit, but by learning her brother was
alive, that venin and wyvern are real, and that the land she has grown up as a proud patriot of has
been hiding all of it, protecting their own while innocents die. She learned a lot of hard truths very
fast, in the middle of becoming a rider and wielding lightning, taking her first life, and realizing her
childhood best friend isn’t the guy she used to play hide-and-seek with anymore. It’s a lot and she
needs time to process it all.

I just wish she was processing it all under the same roof as me, if not in bed next to me.

There’s a knock on my door.

“Come in.”

It’s one of our guards.

“Commandant, the representatives from Poromiel have arrived.”

“Have General Tavis greet them,” I direct, command in my tone, the sarcastic wit and slouched
posture gone. I slip into the role of Commanding General as easily as I slide into my boots each
morning these days. “He’ll escort them to my office.”

Brennan waits until the door closes.

“Do you trust them?” he asks.

“We have to,” I say. “We started running weapons over two years ago and they haven’t turned on
us yet. That has to count for something.”

“They make me uneasy,” Brennan admits.

“Same,” I say. I guess, since I’m doing this whole honesty thing now, I should share a detail that
might be important. “You should know, Syrena is my aunt.”

Brennan stares.

“You are fucking kidding me.”

“Nope.” I pop the ‘p’ with emphasis. “She’s the woman who gave birth to me’s sister.” I refuse to
call that woman ‘mom.’ “You’re getting quite the look at the Riorson family tree today, Lieutenant
General Sorrengail.”

“Does Violet…”

“It’s on the list,” I say. “I’ll tell her tonight, when I report out on how this meeting goes.”

He narrows his eyes at me like he can see right through my ‘report out’ bullshit. Which he can. I’m
not exactly hiding the fact that I talk to Violet every single night about what went on in Aretia that
day, at least not from Brennan. The others are smart enough not to ask how I’m getting so much
information from Basgiath so quickly. My nightly report outs are the closest thing I’ve got to –
what do they call it?

Pillow talk, Sgaeyl supplies.

Yeah, that. Except I’m not going to say it because it sounds fucking sappy.

“You going to tell her you’re a prince, too?”

“One thing at a time,” I say. I’m slowly shedding the lies – the omissions – with Violet. One by
one, I’m tearing them off until the last omission left are the three words I want to say the most to
her. I’ve made a deal with myself: tell Violet everything and then, only then, can I tell her how I
feel about her.

It suffices to say I’m fucking motivated.

And, it turns out, being honest and vulnerable gets a little easier each time I do it.

“Any other relatives or family secrets you need to share?” Brennan asks. “Or is finding out you’re
royalty and the nephew of a couple of gryphon fliers the jest of it?”

“I reckon that’s enough for one day,” I say. He gives me a look. I sigh. “There’s nothing else.” The
look gets more pointed, and my gods does he remind me of Violet. “I swear it.”

I’m saved from further interrogation by the arrival of Garrick, Syrena, and my other aunt, Sylvia.
What a fucking family tree. Revolutionary for a dad, Poromiel for a maternal side of the family.
Guess I’m like Dad in that way. He went and fell for the enemy, and, in a way, so did I.

The enemy’s daughter, at least.

“Nephew,” Syrena greets as she folds herself into the only other available chair in the room. Guess
Garrick and Sylvia are standing. Guess it's a good thing I told Brennan she’s my aunt, too. Garrick
doesn’t flinch. He’s known her – or at least of her – his whole life. He also hates her. Always has.
I’ve never bothered to ask why. I don’t particularly like her either.

“Syrena,” I reply. I give Sylvia a precursory glance. “Sylvia.”

“Can’t say I saw myself ever putting foot in Aretia again,” Syrena says conversationally. “Let
alone back in this fortress. Desperate times, desperate measures, I suppose.”

“We won’t keep you,” I say, warning in my tone.

I don’t want nor need to talk about the past, about when my dad kicked their sister out and they
were up in arms about the “deplorable” treatment of her and demanding he turn me over to them,
arguing that a ‘boy should be with his mother.’ I haven’t forgotten that they tried to take me under
the cover of night, only to be stopped by my aunt, Bohdi’s mom. They don’t know where my
mother is either, but they’re only a few rungs above her as far as I’m concerned. I also haven’t
forgotten how my dad, who always treated women with respect, left me in the kitchen with our
cook who fed me chocolate cake and ice cream to distract me and removed them with force when
they had the nerve to come back for me one more time.

“Give me an update,” I order. The sooner they talk, the sooner I get them the hell out of here.

“So demanding,” Sylvia observes.

“Like his father was,” Syrena agrees.

My eyes burn into them. Neither of them flinch. Garrick shifts closer to them, whether to protect
them from me or me from them, I’m unclear. Brennan sits quietly, watching it all, taking it all in.
He’s the diplomat here. I’m just trying not to get us all killed. I unleash my shadows, let them
slither around the room. Syrena doesn’t acknowledge them, but Sylvia’s weary eyes dart towards
them as I allow them to prowl, ready for my command to move. My aunts have their own lesser
magics, but they’re just that – lesser. Even their powers channeled from the gryphons is less. No
one is wielding shadows or lightning on their side of the boarder.
“A touchy subject, then,” Syrena says. “You can call off your puppets, Riorson.” I don’t. She
huffs. “There have been three more attacks, one a week for the last three weeks. We lost a couple
of fliers in the second one but have fared better than usual. Our lines are diminished though. Too
much longer, we’ll lose ground. We need reinforcements.”

“I’m determining the best use of our resources,” I say, my attempt at not outright telling them no
like I want to.

“From where we’re sitting, you’re not doing a damn thing but lounging in this castle,” Sylvia
challenges. “Where is that dragon of yours, anyway, Riorson? She’s hard to miss and I haven’t
seen her.”

“Sgaeyl is where she needs to be,” I say. “You know as well as I do that I can’t just send a riot of
dragon riders to back your front lines. The second I do that, we tip off Navarre as to our existence
and war is declared. Neither of our sides are ready for that.”

“So we’re supposed to give up even more ground than what Navarre already took from us?” Syrena
asks. “We’re supposed to continue to let our fliers – our friends – die while you and yours move
pins around maps and send their dragons out to graze?”

“He’s right,” Garrick speaks up. “We can’t send riots out until we know we’re ready to fight not
just the venin, but Navarre, too. Our resources aren’t exactly stacked, either.”

He’s correct on all accounts. We’ve managed to add to our ranks, but our army is miniscule in
comparison to Navarre’s. In a perfect world, they would forget all about our border wars or
whatever the hell else it is their so set on protecting and join us and Poromiel to fight the venin
who, by all logical viewpoints, are the bigger threat here.

Logic is for fools, apparently.

“Again, what are we supposed to do?” Syrena pushes. “Sit and die?”

“I’d recommend fly and maybe die,” I say because I lose all composure when confronted by my
aunts. “Just sitting there is certain death.”

Sylvia takes what she thinks is a menacing step towards me. I’m not the least bit afraid of her.
Garrick moves quick, holds an arm out in front of her.

“No further,” he warns as my shadows snake around her ankles. Let her try to take another step.
She’s not moving from where she is until I want her to.

“Just like your father,” she spits at me.

“An honor,” I spit right back.

“We know the problem,” Brennan says, interjecting in that calming way of his. “The fliers are
losing ground against the venin, and resources are needed, resources we can’t yet provide. Let’s
focus on the solution instead of hurling insults and insinuations at each other.”

Brennan Sorrengail.

Diplomat.

“What, not-so-dead Sorrengail, is the solution?” Syrena questions, eyes on him now. “Unless your
ability to mend has suddenly turned into the ability to replicate armies, I doubt you have one.”
“You’re supposed to be liaisoning with potential allies,” he reminds them. “The purpose of today’s
meeting is supposed to be so you can report out on how that’s going, not sit before our
Commanding General and demand things you damn well know he can’t provide right now.”

Garrick fights a smirk and I do smirk. I can see in their faces they have done little, if anything, to
help themselves. That’s becoming an increasingly clear problem. The fliers as a whole are brave
and willing to fight. However, they aren’t willing to do much else. They aren’t willing to put their
boots on the ground and recruit. I need them, but I’m not going to do the work for them.

“People are weary of joining the rebel cause,” Syrena says. She’s a diplomat, too. She’ll work her
ass off to disguise the fact that she hasn’t done a whole lot of anything to bring people to our side.
“They don’t want another mass execution, for one thing.” Her eyes flick towards me and I let my
shadows come closer. She doesn’t flinch, but I can tell they make her nervous. “Those who have
seen the venin in action are afraid to fight. They know there is infinite power there. How are we
supposed to compete with that?”

“Those who choose not to fight choose a certain death,” I say with certainty. “You want resources,
Syrena? You have to fucking help get them. We’re supplying you with weapons. We’re sending
emissaries out to talk to those they can. We’re actively building an arsenal and training our people.
I know you think I’m sitting in this castle doing nothing, but I’m working my ass of – every single
person in this castle and in this town are working their asses off – so we will be ready when the
time comes. I’m not too proud to admit that we need the gryphon fliers, but I'm not going to do the
work for you.”

I feel a lot older than twenty-three at the moment. Syrena is thirteen years older than me, Sylvia a
mere ten, but right now, I feel like I have twenty years of hard experience on them.

“Point made,” she relents. “We’ll send out emissaries as soon as we return to base.”

“Good,” I nod. “I take it the latest weapons run arrived without trouble?”

I know it did. I just want to see what they will tell me.

“Your cousin delivered in a timely fashion,” Sylvia answers.

“There are fewer of you,” Syrena observes.

“Some of us are fake dead,” Garrick speaks up. There’s something in his tone that tells them they
would be real dead if he had his way about it. He still hasn’t let up from his stance between me and
Sylvia.

“Send your emissaries,” Brennan says. “We’ll set another meeting in three weeks, hopefully with
more productive results.”

He’s effectively ending this meeting.

“That’ll be all,” I say, confirming we’re done. I call back the shadows from around Sylvia’s feet,
but I let them continue to prowl the room, just in case. And to remind them of who I am.

Fen Riorson’s son.

Sylvia turns towards the door. Syrena starts to stand, but she stops, perches on the edge of the
chair, eyes on me.

“Where is the other Sorrengail?” she asks. “I’ve seen her lightning. We could use that.”
“Violet is where we need her to be,” I say in an even tone.

Not where I want her to be, but that’s beside the point.

“They don’t trust her,” she continues. “They barely trust him.” She jerks her thumb toward
Brennan.

“Remind them of who has mended the worst of their injuries,” Brennan says, steel in his otherwise
docile tone.

“As I said, they don’t trust her,” Syrena presses.

“I’m not asking them to.” There is nothing docile about my tone. “I’m telling them to. You can
also go back and tell them that if they so much as consider touching a hair on her head, they will
answer to me. I can assure you Brennan won’t be able to mend the outcome.”

“Like father, like son.” She does stand this time, eyes on me. “Fen fell for a rebel, too.” She keeps
her eyes on me. “Let’s just hope your dalliance turns out more favorable than his.”

I’m on my feet and my shadows roar towards her. I hold them back, just barely, just enough that
her eyes blow wide in fear as she takes them in, surrounding her, ready to act on my command.
Brennan is on his feet, hand on his dagger. Garrick has unsheathed his. Sylvia has her hand behind
her, wrapped around the handle of the sword strapped to her back.

“This is the last time I’ll warn you,” I say through gritted teeth. “Violet Sorrengail is not to be
touched. If you want our help, be a good fucking ally and help us grow our ranks. You’re out of
chances, Syrena.” I call the shadows back. “General Tavis will see you out. I recommend leaving
right away. You have work to do.”

Sylvia is quick to head for the door. Syrena glares absolute daggers at me as she backs out of the
room. I send them right back, my shadows curling around me, making sure she knows just how
powerful I am. I am not her sister’s child.

I’m my father’s son.

I send a couple of shadows after them to make sure they leave – and to provide Garrick with
assistance should he need it.

“That went well,” Brennan comments as I finally ease back into my chair. I’m wound tight. If
Sgaeyl were here, I’d take to the sky. Instead, I sit and let the energy pulse around me.

“I think they got the message.”

“Or you just cost us an ally,” he counters.

“They’re with us,” I say with confidence. “They can’t afford not to be. They need our dragons.” I
drum my fingers. I have too much pent-up energy. I don’t like spending my days in the castle
plotting a war. I want to be out practicing maneuvers and overseeing trainings and whatever the
hell else requires my dragon. I try to ground, but I can’t. I’m too worked up. If I don’t do
something, I’m going to implode. I stand abruptly. “Spar with me.”

“What?” Brennan asks. I turn to the shelf of weapons behind me and start adding daggers and
knives to the arsenal I’m already wearing.

“Spar with me,” I repeat. “I need to beat the shit out of something. May as well be you.”
 “Who says you’re going to beat me?” Brennan asks.

“You want a win, you’re going to have to fucking earn it,” I say. I slip a knife into the last available
fold. “I’m in a mood.”

“No shit.” He’s already moving towards the door. “If you’re arming yourself to the gills, I’m going
to do the same. I’ll meet you down there.”

I follow him out the door and we half walk half march down the hall. I appreciate him immensely
in the moment. He’ll give me a fair fight, make me earn my win, keep me going until he’s certain
I’ve calmed down. He’s a good guy, a good friend. He branches off, headed for his quarters. I
intend to keep going to the training quarters, but I stop, confident we’re alone.

“For the record?” I call after him. “I’m a king.”

He stops, looks at me.

“Come again?”

“I’m a king,” I say again. “The rest of them are dead. I wouldn’t be a prince if that monarchy still
stood. I’d be a fucking king.”

I resume walking.

The crown is heavy.

Chapter End Notes

Writing this fic has taught me why fantasy books are so long - the world-building and
the plot-building and the relationship-building. WHEW.

I actually don't think Syrena is relative in canon. I think her (or her sister) are some
sort of past romance for Xaden because you know we need that. Not in this story
though - this story needs her to be his aunt. And for him to be a would-be king. And
that's all I can say about that.

Meanwhile, we'll leave Xaden to beat the heck out of Brennan and daydream about
marrying Violet one of these days and head back to Basgaith next update where we're
going to have a few late-night convos...

Truly, thank you for reading. I get SO EXCITED when I get a notification of a review.
I do this 100% for fun and to improve my writing, so I truly mean it when I say this is
a labor of love and that I appreciate each of you. If you want to follow along with me
on Instagram, you can find me here - book reviews, writing, my own books, and of
course, my dogs: @SarahWylandWrites
 Chapter 9
Chapter Notes

I try to avoid lengthy ANs at the beginning, but friends, I have to take a minute here.
There were SO MANY new readers on my last update and I don't know where you
came from or how you found my story, but wow - y'all are incredible. This is truly a
labor of love, written largely during work breaks, late at night, or early in the AM. It's
my first true foray into fantasy and wow, fantasy is not for the feint of heart. I've done
quite a bit in the witch world, but dragons? A whole other level.

All this to say thank you for reading and for hanging out and commenting and even
following me over on Instagram. I'm taking a lot of liberties with these characters - and
really putting them through it, apparently - and weaving in some of my own theories. I
appreciate you playing along.

Thank you. I appreciate each and every one of you. ❤️

Now... Shall we get to Violet's bad day?

See the end of the chapter for more notes

I’m frustrated.

I’ve been back at Basgiath for two months and little progress towards my goals has been made.
The most I can say is I’ve kept my squad alive so far, although Marcum has had a number of close
calls. It’s almost like he wants to die. He runs right up to death, only to change his mind at the very
last minute and do enough to survive.

I also got my ass handed to me by Imogen on the mat yesterday. Hand-to-hand combat is still not
my best area despite the massive improvements I’ve made, and she did not go easy. I didn’t want
her to. Now I’m sore all over and the selfish part of me that likes to forget Xaden is no longer
allowed to touch me would give just about anything to have his hands work out the knots through
my body.

And maybe work out a few other things, too.

Because if there is one thing I know for sure, it's that I had no idea what it was like to be sexually
frustrated before Xaden. Before Xaden, I missed the pleasant sensation a man’s fingers could give
me, occasionally his lips or cock, when I was going through a dry spell. After Xaden?

Well, now I know what it’s like to have my whole body set on fire while a man ruts and fucks his
way into my very soul. Now I know what it’s like to fall apart so completely that I forget my own
name. Now I know what it’s like to be in freefall while wave after wave of pleasure rushes through
me. I refuse to admit that Xaden has ruined me for other men but…

Xaden has ruined me for other men.

I might hate him for it.

I might climb him like a tree like I threatened to before the next time I see him.
Especially now when I know what it’s like to have his mouth between my…

I would prefer not to be subjected to graphic thoughts about the commandant, Tairn interrupts.

Andarna has young ears, Sgaeyl adds.

Pot meet kettle, I say to them and that shuts them up. They have, at least, been kind enough to
shield their trysts. I don’t think I could stand it if they didn’t, because my fingers are most
definitely not doing it for me.

I can’t stop myself from wondering if maybe Xaden has someone to keep his bed warm, to take the
edge off. Surely there are available women in Aretia…

Nope, not thinking about that. We are broken up. He’s free to fuck whomever he wants and so am
I.

Except I only want him.

You’re foolish if you think the commandant has anyone else in his bed, Sgaeyl informs me.

I ignore her and shake my head to rid the thoughts of wanting Xaden’s fingers in me while his
mouth assaults my lips, whichever lips he so choses to assault.

Focus, Violet, I tell myself. I redirect my thoughts.

Jesinia has been supplying me with books on everything I’ve asked for without question. I’ve read
up on folklore, on the so-called histories of our kingdom. I’ve ever so casually asked her about
reading material on the rebellion, told her I’d heard a rumor that the marked ones had been fostered
– was there any material to support that? Her eyes had flickered with a touch of knowing and I’m
still waiting to see if she produces anything. All my reading has produced nothing of sustenance so
far.

As for Marcum, he’s not cracking.

I’ve tried everything.

He talks little, generally only when spoken to. He does not offer up anything personal, and Bodhi
said he skipped their last two marked ones meet ups. He refuses Imogen’s offers of strength
training, won’t take up Bodhi on hand-to-hand lessons, and he has yet to make it past the third
obstacle on the gauntlet – not that he’s really tried. He is truly the weakest link, not just in the
squad or wing, but in the entire first year. He retreats to his cot the second the night is over, and no
one bats an eye. While everyone was gunning for me when I was seen as the weakest link,
everyone seems to pity him enough to leave him alone.

Battle Brief is getting more and more condensed. It’s the same report, day in and day out. An
attack here, a raid there, wards faltering, rinse and repeat. I know from the short letters Mira sends
in response to my longer ones that there is more going on. She’s good at writing in code, at telling
me there are things happening she doesn’t understand. I don’t know what those things are, but it’s
clear to me that something is amiss.

I need to bring Mira to our side. Xaden has brought it up, not that he needed to. I want her on the
right side regardless, not just because of her signet. I think she’ll join us – if I can figure out how to
tell her the truth. And prove it to her. Because she’ll need proof. She won’t do anything that drastic
without proof. I just have no idea how to tell her what’s going on without being caught in the
process.
I have to tell her Brennan is alive, too. I’m still reeling over that one myself.

And of course, there’s Riorson.

He’s been more vocal lately about us returning to Aretia. So has Brennan, from what Bodhi has
shared in the coded letters they exchange. I know I can’t remain here much longer, but at the very
least, I want my squad bonded with their dragons. In a perfect scenario, I’ll clear out and take at
least the marked ones and my friends with me, but I’m not sure how that scenario unfolds. No one
would look twice if Bodhi and Imogen didn’t return from a training flight one day. They would
assume them dead and move on. If I go missing? That might be the one time my mother actually
looks for me. Not because I’m her daughter.

Because I’m a weapon.

I certainly can’t take the entirety of the marked ones and the people like Rhiannon, Ridoc, and
Sawyer that I care about without there being questions.

And then there’s Xaden.

I’m a mess when it comes to him on a personal level, so much so I’ve taken to calling him
‘Riorson’ to separate the former – whatever he was to me – from the Commanding General.
Calling him Xaden feels too personal, too familiar, and I don’t know him at all.

I don’t know him, not really, yet I love him. I’m sure of that. My feelings for him haven’t changed.
I spend a substantial amount of time torn between the need to be mad at him and the desire to just
say forget it and throw myself back into his arms. The space has given me perspective, as has the
position I’ve found myself in. I understand why he didn’t tell me things. The stakes are too high,
and the risks are too deadly. It hurts that he didn’t tell me, but I get it. I do. I don’t like it, but I
understand it.

It’s that he never gave me him that has me cautious around him. I barely know anything about him.
He would give me little things, like the fact that he has no siblings, that his favorite food is
chocolate cake, but ask something a little too personal – like how he got those scars on his back –
and he’s taking off on Sgaeyl and leaving me on the side of a mountain. He’s been a closed book
and that is the deceit that bothers me most. That he won’t let me in, let me know him, despite the
gestures, even the words, that say he cares.

Except.

Hasn’t he been doing that in the time I’ve been back at Basgiath?

He told me about his claustrophobia. He shared about his mom. He told me that Syrena is his aunt.
Just last night during our nightly report out – which I think we both know is not really a report out
but rather an excuse to talk to one another – he told me about the way Syrena and her sister Sylvia
tried to take him after Fen kicked his mother out. He spoke in a detached sort of way, but I heard it
all the same – it still hurts him now.

And it helps me understand him a little more.

I’m no fool. He’s using this “strictly professional” bond communication to earn my trust. I’ll be
honest and say it’s working. When I got back to Basgiath, I wanted to talk to him as little as
possible. Now, I find myself sneaking into his room most nights, telling myself I just want to curl
up in his too comfortable armchair and read his books, when knowing full well it’s because it
smells like him. I should just take one of his tunics to sleep in and get it over with. I already know,
deep down, that I’m going to give him another chance, that there was never a doubt that I wouldn’t,
but not yet. Not until we’ve had a chance to talk, really talk, about where things went wrong and
Xaden lets down some of his walls. Or at the very least, lowers the draw bridge so I can come
inside the fortress he’s built around him.

I’m also worried about him.

I don’t think he’s sleeping. He’s always had trouble sleeping, but he seems to always be awake
these days. Whether I’m up at four in the morning or at midnight, he’s awake. He’s sounded
weary, like it’s all just too much, some evenings, like his mind is heavy or perhaps his heart. I
know him. I know he will take on as much as he can to protect others, his own well-being be
damned. He’s no good to us if he’s worn himself out before battle even begins.

Glad you’re catching on, comes Sgaeyl’s gruff opinion.

How is he? I ask her. The truth, please.

Tired.

That’s all she gives me. Tired.

Tairn?

The Commandant has a lot of responsibilities, he replies. And that’s it. That’s all they offer. For as
much as they like to meddle, I’d think they would have plenty to say on the subject.

I think he’s sad, Andarna chimes in even though she doesn’t have the connection to Xaden the
other two do. My heart clutches. She’s more empathetic than them, likely overhears things shared
between Tairn and Sgaeyl. She respects them too much to tell me, though.

I think so, too, I admit and this time, I’m thankful none of them say anything more. I’m concerned
about how he’s handling all of this – the war, us – and I don’t know that he’s handling it well
behind that brave facade he wears.

“Violet!”

I startle back to the present. Ridoc, Rhiannon, Sawyer and Sloane are all looking at me as though
I’ve sprouted a second head.

“What?” I ask.

“You heard absolutely nothing any of us just said, did you?” Rhiannon asks.

“Um…”

“You were on another planet,” Sloane observes. She eats dinner with us most nights. She’s never
said it and she’s too proud to admit it, but I think it helps her, that we knew her brother so well. I
think she finds comfort in us. “I didn’t know it was that possible to get so lost in thought.”

“Were you thinking about me?” Ridoc asks. He bats his eye lashes and I throw a piece of chicken
at him. “Don’t play with your food, lightning girl.”

“Are you okay?” Rhiannon asks me in a low voice meant just for me.

“I’m fine,” I nod. I make myself spear my broccoli in an effort to appear normal. “Just thinking
about the gauntlet and how I can help Marcum.”
“You can’t,” Sloane says matter-of-factly. “He’s either going to die on the gauntlet or he’s going to
get killed by whomever is after him because he’s in the damn way.”

“You have no problem getting through the gauntlet,” Ridoc says. “You’re all strong and tall and
hot and stuff.” A collective groan goes up from the table. He has accepted that Slone prefers
women, but he still doesn’t miss a chance to shamelessly flirt. Or perhaps try to flirt because he
remains perpetually single. “What? I’m telling the truth.”

He’s not wrong. Sloane is the fastest time on the gauntlet time and time again. I don’t have the
records to prove it, but I’m near certain she’s even faster than Liam was.

We make it through dinner without me checking out again. I spar with Rhiannon even though my
body is screaming at me, and Imogen makes me lift weights, too. Ridoc and Sawyer make
themselves scarce for the workout and Sloane leaves us to slip off with the fellow first year she
currently has a thing for or is it with? I’m planning to head to my own room, do my faux report out
with Xaden, then settle in with the latest book I pilfered from his room.

‘I’ll see you in the morning,” I say to Rhiannon as we reach her door.

“Oh no you don’t.” She opens her door and pulls me inside. She shuts it behind us and locks it for
good measure, then points to her bed. “Sit.” I raise an eyebrow and don’t move. “Sit,” she says
again. “You’re not leaving this room until you tell me what’s going on with you.”

Something in me breaks. All of this sleuthing and lying and manipulating is exhausting. I’m
carrying so much of it on my own. Xaden at least had Garrick, Bodhi, Imogen, Liam, the others.
He’s also shown he’s not nearly as empathetic or reliant on social connections as I am. Sure, Bodhi
and Imogen are here, but Imogen isn’t exactly the talk about her feelings type, and Bodhi has
enough on his plate, taking on what Xaden had to hand off with his departure. I know some of the
other marked ones know what’s going on, but I’m unclear as to who and it’s not like it matters –
they don’t trust me anyway.

I sit down on Rhiannon’s mattress with a heavy sigh. She joins me and we move so we’re leaning
against the wall her bed is shoved against. She waits me out and I embark on a round of arguing
with myself. Tell her, don’t tell her.

“You ever get the impression they aren’t telling us everything?” I ask finally.

“They’re not,” she replies. “Some information is classified.”

“I don’t mean that,” I shake my head. “Although you’re not wrong. What I mean is – what if what
they’re teaching us isn’t right? What if there are other threats out there that we are unaware of?”

“What are you talking about, Vi?” she questions. She looks at me with concern. “If you’re
worrying we’ll be sent to the frontlines early…”

We will be, but not the frontlines she’s thinking of. The truth is on the tip of my tongue, but I just
can’t bring myself to share it.

“Did you ever read those fables about the three brothers and the venin and wyvern as a kid?” I ask.
I’m doing nothing to reassure her I’m of sane body and mind.

“Some,” she nods. “Our parents used them to make my sister and I do our chores and go to bed at
the appropriate hour.”

It baffles me now that this is what most people say when they hear “venin” – that they were made
up stories our parents told us to make us follow a rule or eat our vegetables. They have no idea that
they are living, breathing – do they breathe? – beings that have the potential power to bring us all
to our knees.

“Seriously, Vi, I’m worried,” she continues, still appraising me. “You do a good job appearing fine
to the others, but I know you. You’re not okay.” I purse my lips, aching to tell her the truth. The
words won’t bubble out of me though and all I can think of is if this is how Xaden felt every time
my questions got too close to the truth. She nudges me with a gentle elbow. “You don’t talk about
him.”

Him.

Xaden.

Gods I want to talk to someone about Xaden and the emotional wreckage we are.

You could talk to the Commandant, Sgaeyl chimes in. I ignore her.

“He lied to me,” I say in a quiet voice. “About – so much.”

“What he did was deplorable,” Rhiannon says. She catches my hand, squeezes it. “He spent all that
time making you fall for him, trust him, and then he tried to kill you.” She shakes her head. “I’m so
sorry, Violet. You deserved better.”

Tears pool in my eyes.

I did deserve more from Xaden. But the longer we’re apart in distance, the more I start to revisit
some of our moments together, especially those couple of days when I was recovering at Aretia
and he was hovering at my side, anxious and on edge and constantly reaching out to touch me
before remembering he had lost that right. He was desperately sharing every truth he could think
of, then desperately fighting to keep me from going back to Basgiath. I think of how he vowed to
earn my trust back, to prove himself every single day.

I hear him ask me to stay in my dreams every night.

I also think about Liam’s last words, his insistence that Xaden needed me. I wish I knew what he
meant. Did Xaden need the lightning wielder with a scribe brain? Or did he need me, Violet? I
know what my mind thinks. I also know what my traitorous heart thinks. They are not the same.

“I love him,” I admit to Rhiannon.

“Loved,” she corrects in a gentle tone. “He’s gone, Violet. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

I wipe away a few tears.

“Thank you for being such a good friend,” I tell her, wishing I could tell her more, tell her
everything, get her advice on what to do about Xaden, her opinion on how to trust him again. “I
know I’ve been a crap one lately, but I appreciate you that much more for hanging in there with
me.”

“I’ll always be here for you,” she promises. She throws an arm around my shoulder, and I feel even
worse for deceiving her. I stay a few more minutes, then excuse myself to go to bed.

In my room, I sprawl across my bed, telling myself I’ll take a few minutes to let myself feel before
I rein in my emotions and take the shower I desperately need.
Violet?

Xaden’s tone is soft, gentle, questioning. I didn’t even realize my shield was down. I try to keep it
up during the day, control what I can. I guess my more fragile state took it down. I don’t reply, but
I still let him know I’m there. That’s something I’ve noticed we’re either now able to do or have
gotten better at – speaking through the bond without words.

I know you don’t like when Sgaeyl tattles on you, but she said you’ve had a rough day. A pause.
You okay?

He sounds so genuine, and it only makes my heart hurt more. The fact that Sgaeyl has noticed my
bad day says a lot since I’d guess she would enjoy me having a bad day at present.

I’m frustrated, I share. I haven’t found anything useful, the marked ones mostly don’t trust me, and
I feel in my bones that time is running out. I’ll need to leave soon, but I have no idea how to go
about it and the idea of leaving people I care about behind makes me nauseous.

I expect him to give me some tough love speech about ‘this is how it is in war.’ He surprises me.

I feel like that, too.

My features twist in confusion.

You do?

He’s working his ass off. Our ranks are growing, slowly, but surely. He’s acquiring weapons,
fielding reports, directing riders and fliers alike to move without being detected He’s still training,
too. He spars with Brennan or Garrick almost every day, lifts weights, studies strategy. Why would
he feel frustrated? He’s actually doing something aside from trying and failing to figure out how to
get the truth from the archives and attempting to make a surly first year talk.

He must mean he’s frustrated with me. If that’s the case…

It’s hard to sit here in this castle, where I’m pretty much guaranteed safety, knowing what’s going
on out there, he says. Logic knows we can’t act yet, but logic doesn’t help me sleep at night. The
venin are out there and Navarre is doing nothing to protect the innocent. He pauses. People I care
about are in harm’s way and I can’t protect them.

My breath hitches. People he cares about includes me. I replay the last time I saw him, right before
I left Aretia, hear him say “I can’t get to you, Violet.” I pick up the panic from that moment now
that my anger has ebbed. I’m here and he’s there, and he’s not able to get to me quickly without
Sgaeyl. I’m learning he does not like to feel helpless.

Really catching on, Sgaeyl hums and I know, somehow, I’m the only one who hears her.

I guess I’d be the pot calling the kettle black if I tried to reassure you that you’re doing everything
you can.

You would be, he confirms. All we can do is put one foot in front of the other, Violence. We’ll
figure it out as it comes.

I nod, even though he can’t see me. I feel marginally better, hearing my worries mirrored back, his
reassurances that we will figure it all out.

I almost told Rhiannon, I admit. It was right there on the tip of my tongue, but I just couldn’t do it.
I purse my lips and decide to go for it. I get it, Xaden. Why you didn’t tell me. I know I’ve said
before, but now that I’m in the middle of it, I truly get it.

I came so close to telling you the truth, so many times.

We’re navigating into dangerous waters, but I’m too mentally exhausted and in the moment, I miss
Xaden, so I’m doing nothing to stop it. This conversation probably needs to happen anyway now
that I’ve had time to digest it all. When I woke up from the attack and found out everything I
thought I knew was a lie and that my brother was alive was not the time, try as Xaden had to
explain his side of things.

There was so much at stake, Violence. I’ll regret not being honest with you every day for the rest of
our lives, but from where I stood, there was no right answer. Tell you and shake up everything you
knew, put you at risk, potentially put others at risk. Don’t tell you and, well, we know how that
went.

I really do get it. What if he told me the truth and I didn’t believe him? What if he told me the truth
and I did believe him? What would I have done? Would I have made it worse? Gotten us caught?
Cost innocent people their lives? I think of Liam and have to blink back a tear.

It’s my fault you nearly died.

His admission hangs between us like a falling rider suspended in space while their dragon decides
if they can save them or not.

The venin… I try.

If you’d known, you would have been able to defend yourself better. He says it in a way that tells
me two things. He’s thought a lot about this, and he has beaten himself up over it on a frequent
basis. I can feel his guilt through the bond. More than that, I should have left you at Basgiath, or
even sent you with fucking Aetos. I knew I was taking risks by bringing you with me, I just…
Couldn’t be without you.

None of us knew what was waiting, I remind him. We can ‘what if’ this to death, but we can’t
change what’s done.

I guess that can be said for a lot of things between Xaden and I.

He doesn’t say anything for a full minute, maybe longer. I wait to see where he takes this.

Do you trust Rhiannon?

Trust is a thing between us, so I step lightly.

I do.

Consider telling her. My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. It’s a lot, trying to shoulder all of this,
keep what you know a secret. I had Bodhi, Garrick, Liam, even Imogen. I know Bodhi and Imogen
are with you, but I also know it’s not the same. Learn from my mistakes, Violence. Don’t try to
shoulder this all on your own.

My throat tightens and still more tears spring to my eyes. I’m especially emotional tonight anyway,
and Xaden is being so – Xaden. Saying the right things, doing the right things. If we were in the
same place, I’d have him in bed. Except I don’t think we would be having the electric, intense sex
we’ve had in the past. I have a feeling this would have been something slower, more meaningful.
 Deeper.

I know I’m not going to be able to get everyone I care about out when it’s time for me to leave, I
admit.

I wish it worked like that, he says. We’ll do what we can though, I promise.

I believe him.

You should get some sleep, I tell him.

So should you, he counters. I’ll check in tomorrow morning.

Goodnight, Riorson.

I swear I can feel him cringe.

Goodnight, Violet. Sleep well.

The connection falls away and I feel not better, exactly, but more okay.

Told you he loves you, Andarna singsongs.

No one said anything about love.

I spent a year listening to the Commandant hem and haw about you, Sgaeyl gruffs. Now I get to
listen to it from you, too.

You can shield against me at any point, I fire back.

If only I could shield myself from this nonsense, Tairn grumbles. Go to bed, children.

Sgaeyl squawks at being called a child and apparently dragons can have lovers quarrels because
they get into one. I drag up my shield as Andarna interjects by announcing she’s on Sgaeyl side. I
take my shower, resist the urge to go to Xaden’s room since I’ve been there the last two nights, and
tuck into my own bed with one of his books, this one a fictional novel about a soldier and his
journey through a war. How fitting. I open the cover, and something flutters out. I pick it up from
my sheets.

It’s a single pressed violet, kept safe between the pages.

I smile.

Chapter End Notes

Look at Violet, starting to understand why Xaden kept things from her. While being a
little sex starved and mopey. They'll be reuniting in another few chapters, but I think
they need this time apart - imagine all that sexual tension while she's also mad at
him... And not Xaden saving a Violet in one of his books?!

Thank you again for reading, leaving kudos, leaving comments... I ❤️ you. You are the
best. And now I'm off to write a sex scene.
 Chapter 10
Chapter Notes

Violet and Xaden develop a new party trick...

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Walking through Aretia splits me in half.

I remember what it used to be. A bustling city, full of life. There were street vendors selling their
wares, musicians playing on street corners. Mouthwatering scents from restaurants and cafes
snaked into the streets and the sidewalks were crowded. Kids played and their parents stopped to
greet their neighbors.

Now it’s no more than a quiet town. We have the basics. I was intentional about that, about making
sure shelter, food, and water were first in line to be rebuilt. There had been no need to burn the
dead – they had been burned to death. It breaks my heart to see it like this, to walk past charred
remains of homes I once knew, stores I once frequented. Most of their residents are dead or else
long gone from Aretia.

Yet walking through Aretia also inspires me. These people, the ones who stayed or dared to come
back, are resilient. They remember what used to be and they have faith in what’s to come. They
rolled up their sleeves, cleaned up the ash, and started to put their lives back together. Every day,
every single day, Aretia regains a little more of its former luster. It will be deeply scarred for a long
time to come, but it will shine again one day. I hope I live long enough to see it.

I’ve been walking the streets of Aretia a lot more lately. These people remind me of why I’m doing
this. They are why I’m preparing to go to war, to fight both the venin and Navarre. To protect these
people and people like them all over the continent.

To do what is right.

Brennan and Garrick are with me today. Brennan joins me often enough. His mending has been an
integral part of this rebuild, and it’s not uncommon for him to break off, help someone he sees
struggling to repair what’s been broken. Garrick comes too, although not as much. He will never,
ever, admit it, but I think it’s too hard for him to walk through the memories. I think vaguely of
doing this with Violet, of showing her my home. It’s one of the things I want to do the most. I want
her to know all of me, and this place, these streets, are the foundation of who I am.

I just have to get her out of Basgiath, back to Aretia, and back in my arms.

A woman hanging her laundry in a front yard gives me a tentative smile and a nod. I return it with
a warm smile of my own.

“How are you, Angelique?” I ask.

“Okay,” she gives a solid nod of her head and I know she means it. She’s not great, but she’s okay
and for some of our population, okay is pretty damn good

“The kids?” I continue.

Her smile grows.

“Growing every day,” she says. “They are at school right now.”

That makes me smile bigger. A former teacher managed to re-open the school a few months ago
after lengthy repairs. I missed the first day by a couple of weeks, but I’ve stopped by a couple of
times, seen the kids and the now two teachers in action. It made me so damn proud I almost cried
on my first visit.

We exchange a few more words – Brennan full on flirts, and I’m definitely going to call that out
later – and continue on our way.

Except Garrick beats me to it.

“You and Angelique, huh?” he asks with a shit-eating grin.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Brennan counters.

“You were flirting your ass off,” Garrick says. “You’re into her.”

“She’s nice.”

I snort.

“What?” Brennan demands.

“‘Nice’ is the worst way to describe a woman you like,” I tell him. “It’s bland.”

“She is nice,” Brennan insists. “My sister is nice. Nice is not a bad thing.”

“While I assume you’re talking about Violet, neither of your sisters are nice,” I inform him. “Violet
is kind and empathetic which covers up one hell of a temper that I can assure you is not fun to be
on the receiving end of. Mira is…” I search for the right word that won’t get me a fist to the jaw.

“A bitch,” Brennan finishes.

“You said it, but you’ll hear no arguments,” Garrick states. One corner of Brennan’s lips turns up
in an amused grin.

“She uses it to her advantage,” I say. “She gets shit done.” She’s also only a bitch when she needs
to be which, in her line of work, is often. Otherwise, she’s prepping little sisters for parapet and
demanding I, the rebel she doesn’t trust, get said sister to safety.

“Back to you and Angelique,” Garrick says. “Is that where you’re slipping off to after dinner?”

Brennan’s cheeks color and he’s been caught.

“She’s got kids,” I remind him. I say it with a hint of warning.

“Two boys, ten and twelve,” he nods. “I helped the youngest with his math two nights ago.”

I nod my approval. I have no doubt that had things been different, Brennan would be married by
now, settled, have a kid or two. He’s that kind of guy he is. Instead, he’s been hiding in Aretia and
pushing the rebellion ahead for six years now. If he finds that happiness with Angelique, if he’s
willing to step up for her boys who lost their dad, an infantry guy, in the burning of Aretia, he has
my support.
“Brennan and Angelique, sittin’ on the parapet…” Garrick sings.

“Talk to Imogen lately?” Brennan cuts him off.

They dissolve into bickering about Garrick and Imogen’s ‘will they or won’t they’ like we aren’t
going to war any day now. I walk several steps ahead, continue to take in the Aretia rebuild. I note
how close a couple of shops and a single cafe, the first dine-in place since the fire, are to re-
opening, the small house that was a foundation last week now has a frame. Things are moving
along, but we’re heading into the colder months. I need to make sure the resources are in place for
food, heat. They should be – we’ve learned to prepare year-round for the brutally cold months –
but I won’t rest until I’m certain. Garrick calls me paranoid, and he’s not wrong. I’ve been known
to house people at the castle when necessary. I have the room, the resources. Given that I’m
planning a revolution now, I may not be able to do that this season, but if I need to, we’ll figure it
out.

We always figure it out.

A young boy, born after the revolution to parents not deemed traitors by Navarre, is playing on the
sidewalk while his mother – I think her name is Marie – barters with a merchant over bread. I know
his father, Elijah. He’s one of my riders, and he’s currently on the east coast, scouting possible
outposts. He killed two venin just last week.

Josephs spots me, stops what he’s doing, and stares. I’m growing used to that, too. It happened all
the time before. I would be out with Garrick and Bohdi and people would stare, whisper. Fen
Riorson’s son and nephew, his general’s son. More often than not, we were doing something we
probably shouldn’t have been, which, of course, always got back to my dad and resulted in, at
minimum, a lecture. Then I left Aretia, first for fostering, then for Basgiath and could only help
from afar. My return is noteworthy.

I offer him a friendly smile.

“Hi,” I say.

“Hi,” he replies. He considers me and I consider him right back. He’s no more than five, I’d guess.
He has tan skin, unruly hair, sharp green eyes. He’s, well, cute.

I hear Sgaeyl snort.

What? I demand.

Cute. She uses a mocking tone. The girl has made you soft.

Trust me, I retort, nothing is soft around Violet.

That gets Sgaeyl out of my head.

“You’re Commandant Riorson.” He says it with a hint of awe.

“I am,” I confirm. “What’s your name?”

“Joseph.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Joseph,” I say.

“Is it true that you can control shadows?” he blurts out. His mother notices me then.
“Joseph!” she gasps. “Manners! Commandant Riorson, I’m so sorry…”

“He’s fine,” I wave her off with a friendly smile. I stoop down to Joseph’s level. He looks half
afraid, half expectant. “It’s true. Want to see?” He doesn’t confirm or deny, but I can see it in his
eyes. He’s dying to see my signet in action, has likely heard about it from his father who can wield
wind. I hold out my hands and he watches in utter fascination as my shadows form three dragons.

“Wow,” he breathes. “Is that your dragon?”

“This one is.” I indicate the one on the left. “Her name is Sgaeyl. She’s a blue daggertail. The
other two are my…” I hesitate, then decide fuck it. This kid doesn’t know any better and maybe if I
say it enough, it’ll become true. “These two are my girlfriend’s.”

Joseph’s eyes blow big.

“She has two dragons?”

“She does,” I nod. “She’s kind of incredible.” I say it like he’s my co-conspirator which makes him
giggle. I smile at the sound. “The bigger one is Tairn. He’s a black morningstartail. He’s huge, a
bit cranky.” Train roars in my head. That’s what he gets for his constant needling at me. “He’s one
of the most feared dragons out there.”

Nice save, Sgaeyl says.

That was more a reflection on Violet, I retort.

“The smaller one is Andarna. She’s a gold feathertail. She’s young, but she’s a great dragon, takes
care of her rider.”

I’m not telling her you said that, Tairn says.

It occurs to me that Violet could be overhearing this conversation. I’d rather her not hear me call
her my girlfriend, not until she actually is – again? We made it that far, didn’t we? Wasn’t that
what happened in my room? I stopped fighting it and decided to give things a chance? I only made
it a few hours before blowing it. Her shield is up and strong though, so as long as the dragons don’t
tattle, I’m solid.

I should tell for fun, Tairn says.

We’ll hold this piece of information as a valuable piece of collateral for future use, Sgaeyl states.

Fucking dragons.

“Can she control shadows?” Joseph asks.

“She wields lightning,” I say.

“Whoa!” he gasps. “That’s cool!”

“She’s away right now, but when she’s back, I’ll bring her around,” I promise him. “I think she’d
love to meet you.” I know she would. Violet would love this kid.

“Joseph, I think you’ve kept the Commandant long enough,” his mother says, her two fresh
baguettes secured in her bag. “Thank you, Commandant, for humoring him. I’m sorry he disturbed
your walk…”
“He didn’t disturb anything,” I assure her. I use my shadows to ruffle his hair. He laughs and
dammit I definitely want one of these things with Violet one day far, far down the road. Maybe
two, so the other one won’t get lonely.

I’d worry about winning a war first, Tairn advises. Maybe getting the girl in question back, too. I
don’t bother to respond. He’s right. Any future, any family Violet and I might have, can’t be until
this war is won. But gods I want it. It feels like I’m not asking for too much and asking for
everything, all at the same time.

We resume walking. Brennan nudges me with an elbow.

“You’re good at this,” he says.

“Good at what?” I wonder.

“This whole politician thing. Shaking hands, kissing babies, as they put it in Navarre.”

I note two things. One, we already talk about ourselves as though we aren’t part of Navarre even
though, technically, we are still a united kingdom. Two, I am a politician. I don’t like it. It’s not the
term, the phrase, I would use. But somehow, some way, that’s what I’ve become, just as my dad
had. A rider turned commanding general of a revolution turned martyr. I’m personally aiming to
leave off the martyrdom part.

“People need to feel seen,” I say. “That’s why I walk the streets. That, and I can’t exactly fly off on
a scouting mission or sit down with potential allies to make our case. I can do this, though, so I
do.”

“Are we going to talk about the part where you called Violet your girlfriend?” Garrick asks.

“No.”

I say nothing more on that note and Garrick snickers. He’s approximately thirteen years old today,
it seems. I should ask him about Imogen again.

“You’re good at it,” Brennan continues. “Not all politicians have to be villains, Riorson.” He’s
gearing up for a lecture. I forget he’s several years older than me until he starts to act like my big
brother which, I guess, in some ways, he is my brother now. Still, I’m not in the mood to hear him
explain for the umpteenth time over why I’m uniquely suited for this role, so I start plotting my
escape. “You can use your power – signet and political – to do good…”

Montserrat has been attacked.

Violet’s panicked voice stops me in my tracks.

“Xaden?” Garrick inquires. “Everything okay?”

What do you know?

Not much. Mira and some of the others are here. I’m trying to figure out what happened.

Mira is okay?

Seems to be. She blew in leading a pack of other riders and demanded to see our mother.

Was it gryphon or venin?

Unclear.

“Xaden?” Garrick pushes. “What’s going on?”

“Riorson?” Brennan echoes. “What’s happening?”

I hold up my hand to silence them.

We need to know, I say. I’m far less concerned if it was the fliers.

I don’t think it was.

I don’t either.

Mira wouldn’t be here if it was a run-of-the-mill press from Poromiel.

Exactly.

“Fucking seriously, Riorson,” Garrick’s voice is rising. “What’s going on? You’re in a trance. Are
you okay? Do you need a healer? Is something happening?”

“Montserrat was attacked.”

Brennan and Garrick stare.

“How do you…”

“Mira is okay,” I tell Brennan. “She’s at Basgiath now. Violet is trying to learn more.”

Garrick is dumbstruck.

“Okay, how…”

I tune him out, focus entirely on Violet.

I want to try something, Violet says.

Try what?

Shhh.

I scowl.

Did you just shush me?

Shut up, Riorson.

Fucking last name.

What are you…

Seriously, shut up. I’m trying to concentrate.

But what are you…

Xaden!
I growl, but I fall silent. Her hair and my first name. Either of those two things and I’m Violet’s to
do what she pleases with. The hold she has over me is unreal and she has no idea. When she
combines those two things – I can’t stop the memory of her under me, her hair spread around her
like a fucking halo as she chants my name while I pound into her – I’m no more than a fucking
puppet to her whims.

You need to move, she says.

What?

You need to move, she says again. You’re drawing attention, standing in the middle of the sidewalk
like you are right now.

How do you…

You taught me that trick, remember?

Right. Our ability to find each other.

“Let’s move,” I order. I walk with purpose towards the castle. Brennan and Garrick fall in behind
me. “Violet is up to something. I don’t know what, but she’s up to something.”

I’m fine, it’s fine. Not freaking the fuck out that she’s risking herself to get us information at all.

“One more fucking time,” Garrick roars. “What in the hell is going on? How is Xaden getting this
information?”

“Tell him,” I bark at Brennan.

“Violet and Xaden can communicate mind to mind,” I hear him tell Garrick.

“Holy shit,” Garrick gasps. If I were to turn around, I would see all the puzzle pieces clicking into
place. “That’s how… And all the times… Fuck…”

I tune them out again as Brennan brings Garrick up to speed on Violet and I’s connection, and my
suspicions that she and I have some sort of weird mating bond or something because even in a
world where we can make shadows and lightning do our bidding, this shit isn’t normal.

Violence?

Hang on.

I curse under my breath. I want to know what the fuck she’s doing.

All of a sudden, my mind fills with the image of a small, dark, corridor. I can feel the stone at my
back and once the shock wears off, I can hear voices. They belong to Mira and Lilith Sorrengail.

How…

It works? Violet asks. You can see and hear what I’m seeing and hearing?

How…

Later. Be quiet. I can’t focus with you talking.

It’s a good thing I know the path back to the castle better than I know the back of my hand because
I’m barely present. All my focus is on what Violet is sharing with me.

And reminding myself I’m not actually in this tiny ass space, that I’m outside, in open air, no walls
closing in, no floor rising up, no ceiling sinking down, no need for my chest to constrict and panic
to set in. It helps that Violet is there.

Where are you? I demand. If you’re caught eavesdropping…

There’s a back entrance to my mom’s office. She uses it to get here from our private quarters. I had
to sneak into the residence, but I should be well-covered now.

I curse again, equal parts annoyed and impressed. Violet is fucking brilliant, and she has absolutely
no sense of self-preservation. If she gets caught… I’m not going to think about it.

“What the fuck was that, Mom?” Mira’s voice rages through the connection.

“Don’t use that tone with me,” Lilith snaps back. “You’ll also call me by my title. This is not a
personal visit, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, because gods forbid you act like you have half a heart and give your child – any of your
children – more than a precursory glance.”

Point, Mira.

“I’ll save my commentary on your shitty parenting for another day though,” she continues. “What
the fuck did I see at Montserrat?”

“Gryphon.”

Lilith’s tone does not leave room for debate. Mira roars. Apparently tempers run in the Sorrengail
family.

“I know what I saw!” she bellows. “What were those things, General Sorrengail? They looked
nothing like gryphons and dragons didn’t suddenly lose two legs and start breathing blue fire.
Never mind the creatures riding some of them.”

Venin, Violet and I say at the same time.

My stomach flips. That’s the furthest north they’ve been and they’re too fucking close to Basgiath
for my liking. I bite my bottom lip to keep from demanding Violet get the others and leave
immediately. It’s not like she would do it anyway. Sorrengails never fucking listen.

“They were gryphons,” Lilith says again. “Do you understand me, Mira? What you saw are
gryphons.”

There is a deadly silence.

It’s never good when either of them go silent, Violet supplies. I nod even though she can’t see me.
We’re back at the castle now and I lead the way to my office. My chest still wants to tighten, but I
won’t allow it.

“You’re hiding something.” Mira sounds livid. “You’re covering up whatever the hell I – and the
others who are still alive – saw. What are they and why don’t you want me to know?”

There is no immediate response. A beat passes before Lilith calls out for someone. The sound of a
door bursting open echoes through my mind. There are shouts, a cacophony of noise. I know in my
gut Violet is about to do something stupid.

Violet! Whatever you’re thinking – no!

Mom called the guards. She’s ordering them to take Mira to the healers and request a mental
health hold, said she’s hallucinating and a danger to herself. I have to help her…

You burst in there right now and you put everything in jeopardy, I remind her. I don’t like the tone
I’m using with her, but when Violet has made up her mind, it takes a lot to change it, if it can be
changed at all. Let them take Mira. Then find her, ask her what she saw. I know it’s the last thing
you want to do, and I know you’re pissed at your mom, but you cannot fly in there half-cocked.

I hold my breath and wait for her decision.

Fuck you, she growls, but I know her tone. She’s mad, not at me or at least not entirely. She’s mad
at the situation and the fact that she knows I’m right. This is so wrong.

I know, I soothe. I notice then that I’m no longer seeing and hearing what she is. Navarre will stop
at nothing to keep this a secret.

I don’t know what good it’s going to do them. Sooner or later, the venin are going to be so
powerful that their precious wards won’t stop them.

Denial can make people blind, I offer. Promise me you aren’t about to burst into your mom’s office
and demand justice?

I desperately want to, she grumbles. But you make a fair point.

Give it at least a few hours, I advise. Mira isn’t going to go quietly and it’s going to take some time
for the dust to settle. Be careful when you go snooping. Have Bodhi watch your back.

I’ll ask him or Imogen…

Bodhi, I insist. It has to be Bodhi.

Why? She’s suspicious.

I sigh.

Because I trust Bodhi with what means the most to me.

Her sharp intake of air tells me she understands what I’m saying. She is what’s the most important
to me. I trust Imogen immensely, but when it comes down to it, if I can’t be there, if Brennan can’t
be there, it’s Bodhi I’m going to call up, every single time.

Garrick knows about this whole mental connection thing by the way. Had to get Brennan to tell
him when he realized I was getting information from you in real time on the streets of Aretia. I look
at him and he’s staring at me in that way of his that says he has questions. I think I’m about to face
an inquisition of my own.

Trade you, she quips, and I chuckle.

Be safe, Violence.

I will, she promises. I’ll check in as soon as I find out anything new.
Check in even if you don’t, I request. I need to know you’re safe.

I will, she says again.

I let her go and face an expectant Brennan and a baffled Garrick.

“What the actual fuck…” Garrick begins the moment he realizes I’m fully present once more. I
hold up a hand to shut him up.

“I’ll get there,” I promise him. “First, let me bring you up to speed.”

I tell them everything I learned from Violet and through Violet which is a whole other thing I need
to unpack.

“They’re getting closer,” Brennan states the obvious. He’s simmering in his anger at his mother for
her denial and treatment of Mira, but he’s better at controlling his temper than I am. He’ll work it
out sparring with me or Garrick or sling around some weights later.

“But they’re moving north,” I say, thinking through this new information. “Their advances seem to
be focused on the material that powers the wards, which is likely in greater supply the closer you
get to Basgiath.”

“Which is likely what is in that box,” Garrick nods.

“That’s the best guess we have,” I confirm. “If they can’t find what they’re looking for to our
north, they will eventually come south.” I rub my face with my hand. I have fractions of a dozen
ideas and theories on what we’re doing, but that’s it – just bits and pieces, nothing that connects
them together. I can’t move this revolution forward withing more of the picture. “I hate to say it,
but all we can do right now is wait for news from Violet. And continue to build both our arsenal
and our allies.”

“I hate doing nothing,” Garrick grumbles.

“Been doing ‘nothing’ for six years,” Brennan states. “Sometimes, doing ‘nothing’ is the best thing
you can do. It’s the long game we’re playing, that we have been playing. Our time is close, but it’s
not yet. Soon, but not yet.”

“Don’t act on impulse,” I say. I see the words spark in Garrick. He understands. It’s what my dad
used to say. About the war and about some of the mischief we got into.

“So, about this whole head communication thing you and Violet have going on,” Garrick prompts.
I fill him in, tell him the same thing I told Brennan – that I noticed her in my archive one day and
tried it. I tell him, too, that we can locate one another. I don’t tell either of them about this latest
development of sharing visions though, not yet. That’s something else I want to talk to Violet
about. And I want to figure out how she did it. “It’s so obvious,” Garrick says once I’ve finished
explaining it to him. “I can think of so many times…” He shakes his head and I quirk a smile. All
those times I’ve been in Violet’s head with him right next to me and he never knew. “So are you
two, like, bonded? Like Sgaeyl and Tairn? Or is it because of Sgaeyl and Tairn?”

“I don’t know,” I say. I know what I feel. I feel like Violet was meant for me. Like the gods or
whomever the hell is in charge of this world we live in took the time to make Violet exactly for me.
It’s like I had a Violet-shaped hole in my heart that I didn’t know existed until Violet herself
walked into my life. She filled it for a while, and then I plucked her out with secrets and shadows.
Now, it’s an open wound that won’t heal, not until she’s back with me.
 “I’ve been looking into it,” Brennan says. “So far, I have nothing substantial, just the poetic
waxings on soulmates, soul ties, twin flames, that sort of thing.” I don’t voice it, but don’t think
Violet and I are soulmates or twin flames. That doesn’t seem adequate for what we are.
“Regardless, add this little communication ability to the long list of secrets we’re keeping.”

“It would be one more reason people want to kill the two of you,” Garrick agrees. He pushes
himself to his feet. “Let me know when you hear something from Violet.” Brennan echoes
something similar and I’m alone once more. I lean back in my chair and take a breath.

War is coming soon.

We’re not ready.

Yet we have to be.

I think of little Joseph, of Brennan’s budding relationship with Angelique and her boys, Garrick
and Imogen’s dance around one another that deserves to be explored, my own hopes for Violet and
I and a life I don’t even know if she wants if and when we do get back together.

It’s not our time yet, but we have to be ready when it is.

We have no choice.

Chapter End Notes

A lot to unpack there, eh? Xaden the politician, Mira knows about the venin, Violet
introduces a new little party trick...

The next update is a doozy - long, action-packed, and, well, Bohdi may be about to be
your new favorite character.

As always, thank you SO SO MUCH for reading! We're nearing the big Escape from
Basgiath and it's going to be wild. Let me know what you thought of this one!
 Chapter 11
Chapter Notes

Pour your favorite beverage and settle in - she's a long one. (Prepare to fall in love with
Bohdi).

See the end of the chapter for more notes

“Mira?”

My sister gasps and rushes for me. The door has hardly shut behind me before she’s engulfing me
in a bone crushing hug.

“Violet!” she breathes. “You really are okay!”

“Did you think otherwise?” I ask.

“I heard about the marked ones trying to kill you during War Games, but I don’t think I believed
you were okay until I actually saw you for myself.” She hugs me still tighter, and I hug her right
back. “Thank you for not making me an only child.”

If she only knew.

Hopefully she will know. Soon.

“How did you get in here?” she asks as I gently extricate myself, lest I need healing from her hug
actually breaking my ribs.

“When you’ve been healed and mended as much as I have, you know who to ask, what to ask, and
how to ask,” I say as I settle on the edge of the crap cot shoved in the corner of her sterile room.
“We don’t have much time. Are you okay?”

“I’m raging mad at General Sorrengail, but I’m physically fine,” she reports. “I wasn’t on duty at
the time of the attack and by the time I was on my dragon, we were at the tail end of it.”

“How many did you lose?”

“Four,” she sighs. “Almost the entire on duty riot.”

“Gods,” I breathe.

“It never gets easier.” She gives her head a shake and I both see and feel the sadness rolling off her
as she thinks about her fellow fallen riders. I squeeze her hand in comfort, but that’s all I can do. I
don’t have much time.

“Tell me what you saw at Montserrat,” I request.

She narrows her eyes, suspicious right away.

“Why don’t you tell me what you think I saw at Montserrat?” she counters. She’s smart, knows I
know something.
“I think you saw something that wasn’t a dragon or a gryphon.”

She contemplates her answer. I wait her out. This is a new dynamic for us. She’s used to
intervening on my behalf, doing what she can to protect me, help me. She’s not used to the person I
am now, the lightning wielder with a stronger body and a newfound confidence that is bone deep.

“What I saw looked like a dragon,” she said. “But it only had two legs and breathed blue fire.”

“Wyvern,” I say. She raises an eyebrow.

“Like from your fables?” I nod. She shakes her head. “Those are just stories, Violet. Wyvern aren’t
real.”

“Then what did you see?”

She can’t answer me. I get it. I don’t think I would have believed Xaden if he had just casually said
“Hey, Violet, venin are real.” He didn’t know about the wyvern until we saw them ourselves. Mira
knows she didn’t see a dragon or a gryphon. She just can’t commit – yet – to admitting that what
she saw was a supposed mythical creature.

“What are they telling you in Battle Brief?” she asks, changing the subject slightly.

“Not much,” I shrug a shoulder. “There was an attack, wards faltered, a rider or two died, a village
was ransacked. Then we talk about battles from wars gone by to, I quote, ‘learn from their strategic
victories and mishaps.’”

“Something is happening.” Her voice is barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what, but there is
something going on. I can feel it. Every time the wards falter and I’m tasked with repairing them, I
can feel it. I can’t explain it, but something is happening.”

Venin, I want to say. Wyvern. Our leadership is covering it all up.

“Any guesses?” I ask instead.

“None,” she shakes her head. “I guess command will tell us when and if we should be worried.”

She still has blind faith in our leadership. I want to tell her what I know, but I stop myself. I can’t
be sure no one is listening, and I’m not supposed to be here anyway. I can’t risk it. Not yet.

“What’s your plan when they release you from here?” I ask.

“I think I’ll stick around for a few days,” Mira muses. “Threshing is what, five days out?” I nod.
Threshing has been circled on my calendar since I returned, not only because the first years get
their dragons – I hope – but because it has always felt like a return date, the day I’ll either leave for
Aretia or determine when I’ll be returning. “How is the ratio of dragons to cadets this year?”

“Not favorable,” I say. “There are even fewer dragons to go around, and a few more riders than last
year, at least as of now.”

“Damn,” she whistles.

There’s a sharp rap on the door. Mira jumps, but I was expecting it.

“That’s for me,” I say. “The healer who let us in said I had ten minutes.”

“Us?” Mira questions. She never misses a detail which is why I know she knows she saw a
wyvern, even if she’s not ready to admit it.

“Bodhi came with me.”

“Bodhi?” She raises an eyebrow and gives me a look that implies she thinks he’s someone special.
I shake my head.

“He’s a friend.” I don’t tell her he’s Xaden’s cousin. I may need her to trust Bodhi soon, and Mira
will immediately put him in the ‘do not trust’ category if she knows he’s part Riorson. Not that she
won’t stick him there the second she sees his substantial rebellion relic. She’s going to need to
adjust that prejudice if she sides with us. “I’ll try to sneak back tomorrow.”

“Don’t get yourself in trouble for me,” she says. “Our mother might be tough as nails, but I learned
form the best. I’ll outlast her and her attempts at controlling the narrative.”

I’m more confident than ever that Mira will join us when she has the full story.

I hug her goodbye and join Bodhi in the hall. We don’t say a word until we’re clear of Mira’s
holding space and walking the halls like two riders on a casual stroll.

“Anything useful?” he asks.

“She knows what she saw,” is all I offer. We’re in too public of a place to chat casually. I shoot
him a sideways glance. “Can you get into Xaden’s room?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I tried.”

“I can.” He raises an eyebrow. “Let’s meet there tonight. Bring Imogen. Knock three times and I’ll
let you in.”

“Deal,” he nods.

We’re almost at the end of the healer’s quadrant hall when Jesinia appears with a cart of material. I
suppose she’s making a delivery to the healers. Her eyes widen when she sees me.

“Violet,” she signs, “I’ve been hoping to run into you.” She shifts a look at Bodhi. I can tell by his
curious expression that he can’t interpret her sign language.

“You can trust him,” I sign back. She nods.

“I have something for you, but I don’t think I should…”

She has illicit material, is what I understand. She looks afraid and I know whatever she has is
critical to our cause.

“Remember those trees we used to play under as kids?” She nods. “Meet me there at midnight.”

She’s hesitant, but she agrees and continues on her way.

“Change of plans,” I say to Bodhi as we step out into the courtyard. It’s a flurry of activity with
people blowing off steam after a day of classes. “That was Jesinia…”

“The scribe you told Xaden about,” he nods.

“She has something for me. I don’t know what, but she doesn’t want to give it to me during our
usual archive duties. I’m going to meet her under the trees at midnight.”
“I’m coming,” Bodhi says. “No arguments. Xaden would…”

“Kill you, I know,” I say with a roll of my eyes. He considers me as we walk. I wait, certain he has
something to say.

“About Xaden…”

There it is.

“What about him?” I ask.

“He didn’t want to keep all of this from you, Violet.”

“But he did,” I say. “I’m not even mad about that, not anymore. I understand his choices now that
I’m making them. He refused to let me in and that’s what broke my trust in the end. Day after day,
he learned more about me and day after day, he kept himself to himself. I don’t know him, Bodhi,
not really.”

“That’s the thing,” he hedges. “Xaden let you get closer to him than anyone has in a long time. He
acts all brave and fearless and he’s commanding as hell, but deep down? He’s a pretty broken guy,
Violet. I don’t think he ever took the time to process his dad’s death. Instead of mourning, he
stepped forward, put himself in front of all of us to protect us from certain death, and then went
right to work figuring out how he could rebuild what was lost and take up the cause Uncle Fen
died for. He was only seventeen years old.”

“I know that,” I try, but it seems like Bodhi has wanted to say this for a while because he stops,
turns to me, and his formidable body stops me in my tracks. He’s not imposing, not threatening, but
he wants to be heard. I’m willing to listen.

“You don’t know that,” he says. “You’re brand new to this whole revolution thing, Violet. We
have lived it a hell of a lot longer than the six years it's been since our parents were killed. We have
lost a lot of people. We have seen a lot of shit. I watched a teenage Xaden outright ask his dad not
to leave to declare the secession because he knew Fen wasn’t going to come back. And I got a front
row seat to Uncle Fen telling him not to worry, that he would be fine. I said goodbye to my mom
that same day with the same sinking feeling in my stomach I know Xaden had.

“And it’s not just our parents we lost. I lost my uncle. He lost his aunt. Garrick’s parents were as
good as family. Imogen’s sister used to sneak us candy. Her mom played hide and seek with us
when we were little. We knew damn near every person who lost their life that day. Xaden should
have never had to step up the way he did. But he did, and that’s his literal cross to bear.”

“That’s why he knows every rebellion kid’s name,” I say more to myself than Bodhi.

“He actually said to me once that it was the least he could do to know their names. The least he
could do, Violet. He had one hundred and seven fresh cuts on his back, and we were sitting on cots
crammed into a fucking tent with no airflow and not enough food and water because Navarre
suddenly realized they had no idea what to do with dozens of orphaned kids, and Xaden didn’t
think he’d done enough. He still doesn’t think he’s done enough. His dad was the leader of all this
which, to Xaden, means it falls to him to try to make up for what his dad’s leadership cost us. It’s
just as much guilt over the lives lost as it is his desire to do the right thing that drives him on.”

I wrap my arms around me as the reality of what Xaden has been through becomes a little more
clear. Bodhi’s right. I don’t know what it’s been like for Xaden, and even if he spells it out to me, I
never will. Some scars aren’t visible.
“He couldn’t even put a shirt on because his back hurt so bad and he was worried about everyone
else,” Bodhi continues. “I got to watch him fall in love with you, Violet. But I also got to watch him
wrestle with it. He didn’t want to drag you into this. He wanted to keep you safe, even if that meant
denying himself the one and only thing he has allowed himself to want in six years. I lost count of
the hours Garrick and I and even Imogen, who, let’s face it, didn’t like you very much at first, tried
and failed to convince him that it was okay to let himself love you.

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t be upset with him. I don’t blame you for that. But he needs you. I’m
not talking about your signet or your dragon or your brain, either, because I know damn well you
sit and debate that all the time.” I avert my eyes at being caught in my own doubts. “He needs you.
I can guarantee you he’s not sleeping well. That he’s not taking care of himself. That when he does
finally go to bed, he lays there and thinks himself to death. I talk to Garrick and Brennan. I know
he’s struggling.”

He stops, takings a breath, releases some of the tension in his shoulders.

“Anyway,” he shakes his head. “I didn’t mean to get so wound up. It’s just – he loves you, Violet.
He may not have said it yet, but he does. I saw him when you fell from Tairn, when he realized
how badly you were hurt. He was desperate to save you and absolutely nothing was going to stop
him. It had nothing to do with the fact that if you die, he could die too, and everything to do with
the fact that he absolutely cannot live in a world you’re not a part of. I watched him fall apart when
Brennan pried you out of his arms. He fell apart in the way Xaden does – by pushing people away
and wanting to break things. So Garrick and I stood guard and let him. He wouldn’t leave your
side, not even to say goodbye to Liam who was one of the only other people in this world he’s
allowed himself to care for. He didn’t sleep, barely ate. If he did sleep, he woke up in a cold sweat,
refused to tell us what he saw in his dreams, but I think I have a pretty good guess.

“He absolutely owes you an apology and some explanations. I’m not saying he doesn’t. But maybe
try being a little less holier than thou and hear him out. Let him have a chance to show his hand.
Because we’re about to go to fucking war, Violet. And I’d rather our commanding general not do
so with a broken heart.”

I’m at a loss for words. I open my mouth, try to form a coherent thought, but nothing comes out.
I’m used to Bohdi being the quiet one. The strong and silent one to Xaden’s dominant,
commanding presence. I’m not sure I’ve heard him say this many words in total the entire time
I’ve known him. My words just won’t come, so instead, I reach out and give Bodhi’s arm an
affectionate squeeze. He’s perceptive, understands. He catches my hand and returns my squeeze.
He gives it a friendly pat before he lets it go.

“So,” he says as we resume walking, ready to move on now that he’s stood up for his cousin, “I’ll
meet you at quarter to midnight.”

We go our separate ways and I’m absolutely reeling. I was already after visiting Mira, but after
Bohdi’s speech, my thoughts are all over the place. There is still some time before dinner and I’m
able to slip into my room unnoticed. I lock the door and collapse on my bed. I try to sort through
everything, but in the end, I only want to talk to Xaden.

Jesinia has something, I say. I don’t know what, but I’m meeting her tonight.

When and where?

He’s always immediate in his response, doesn’t make me wait.

Midnight, under the trees. Before you ask, Bodhi is going with me.
Good, he approves. Did you see Mira?

I did. She definitely saw wyvern. She’s not quite ready to admit it, but she did say she knows there is
something more going on. She intends to stick around for a few days once she’s released.

Think she’ll side with us?

I think so. She’s furious with our mother, for one, but she’s starting to see through the lies Navarre
has constructed.

Just be careful, he advises. I’m certain people are listening.

I purse my lips, debate on what to say. As much as I’m aching to bring up the things Bodhi told
me, I don’t want to have that kind of conversation with Xaden through our bond. I want to have it
in person. I want to be able to reach for him, see his reactions, if he shares, if he pulls away, if he
looks sad or threatened. Mostly, I need to be able to touch him. He responds to touch, or at least my
touch.

And my gods do I want to hug him. Not kiss him, not sleep with him. Hug him. I want to wrap him
in my arms and let him know he’s safe now. Cared for.

Loved.

I don’t want to have this conversation over the bond, but I need to do something.

How are you?

What? I both hear and feel his confusion over my seemingly out of the blue question.

How are you? I repeat. You have a lot going on and I thought I’d check in…

I’m fine.

I sigh. He’s not. I know he’s not. I didn’t need Bodhi to tell me that, but now that Bodhi has
confirmed it, it pulls at my heart, and I know it will until I’m back in Aretia and can see Xaden for
myself.

You’re not. You couldn’t be, not with everything on your shoulders.

There’s a lot of stress, but that comes with the territory.

He’s not budging. If we were face-to-face, I could coax it out of him. Over our bond, there is only
so much I can do.

I’m here, Xaden. If you need to talk, you can talk to me. Always.

I suppose there’s a lot we need to talk about, he hedges.

There is, I agree.

I think a lot of it is best left until we’re both in the same place.

I just want to make sure you know you don’t have to shoulder this alone.

He’s oddly quiet for several moments.

Okay.

His voice cracks and I know I’ve managed to slip around at least a few of his defenses. That ‘okay’
isn’t quite him accepting my help or opening up, but it’s a crack in his armor, a little sliver that, if I
keep picking at it, I might be able to open his extensive armor wide enough to slip in.

I’ll share my meeting with Jesinia with you.

How did you do that anyway? He sounds more like himself now that we’re back on less vulnerable
ground.

I was inspired by the time you helped me generate lightning for my first lesson with Carr. I hear
him chuckle to himself and I quirk a smile. I wasn’t sure if it would work. I focused on you in my
archive, then willed myself to show you. Literally told myself ‘show him’ and it – whatever it is –
did. What was it like on your side?

It felt like I was there. I had to keep reminding myself that I wasn’t. Wherever you were hiding was
small, and my claustrophobia wanted to make an appearance.

I didn’t think… One more thing to feel terrible about. I’m sorry, Xaden…

It’s okay, he assures me. I was able to keep one foot grounded in the present. I’m fine. He pauses.
Can I try it? Do you have a few minutes?

Go for it.

I wait patiently. A minute passes and then another.

Without warning, I’m outside. I gasp in surprise. It’s just like Xaden said. I feel like I’m there even
though I’m also well aware that I’m not. I look around, take in what he’s showing me.

Your hill, I say.

It worked?

It did. Assuming you’re on your hill right now?

I am.

I continue to observe the space. The trees have already changed in Aretia. They are vivid oranges,
yellows and red, stunning and mixed in between the tall pines. The view of the ocean is striking,
and the sky is full of puffed up clouds. It’s a near perfect day.

It’s beautiful.

It’s peaceful, he counters.

I realize the magnitude of what he’s sharing with me. This hill is his. It’s so important to him that
his archive shows up as this place. He protects it, keeps it close. He’s letting me in.

What brought you here today? I ask.

It’s a good place to think.

Anything you want share? I chance.

Just – thinking.

I’m learning patience is a virtue with Xaden. His ‘okay’ and him showing me his hill may seem
like small gestures, but for someone who has spent so much time locked up within himself, this is a
big deal for Xaden. I don’t push for him to tell me more. ‘Just thinking’ is enough today.

Thank you for showing me your hill.

There’s a sharp intake of air. Whatever he’s ‘just thinking’ about has him down. I hope – I hope –
I’m helping. Of course, since it’s me, my being here could be salt in his wounds.

I’ll bring you here in person, he promises.

I’d like that. I can feel his melancholy. I don’t want to intrude. I should go, let you think in peace.

Stay.

It’s me with the sharp intake of air this time. He wants me to stay. I’m sure he’s holding his breath,
and I’m thinking about the last time he asked me to stay and I didn’t.

I stay this time.

Neither of us speak again, but he knows I’m there. I stay with him through dinner, choosing him
over a mediocre meal, a quiet companion, until he needs to start his walk back to the fortress.

Will you let me know you made it back okay? I request once I’m fully back in my mind.

Worried about me, Violence? There’s the Xaden I fell in love with – teasing and sure of himself.
His time on the hill must have helped.

Walking home in the dark during a pending war, even in Aretia, seems like a place where things
could go wrong.

I’m perfectly safe, he says. I’ll let you know when I’m home though. He pauses. Thank you for
staying.

I don’t have words, so I send a wave of feelings through the bond and hope he feels them. His
responding wave a beat later tells me he did.

I’m blissfully allowed to spend the evening reading one of Xaden’s books. As midnight
approaches, I shove into my boots and slip out of my room. Bohdi is waiting at the end of the hall,
hidden in the stairwell. We slip out of the castle, sticking to the shadows.

“This was so much easier when Xaden was here,” he comments as we skirt along the wall.

“Shh!” I hiss. “Someone might hear us!”

“We’re fine,” he says. “No one is around. Well, there’s a rat about ten paces ahead of us and a herd
of deer in the woods to the left, but they’re not going to talk.”

“Your signet is supersonic hearing,” I realize.

“Immensely useful for eavesdropping,” he confirms. I narrow my eyes at him, wondering what he’s
heard. He just chuckles, then grows serious. “Listen, Violet, I want to apologize. I was harsh
earlier…”
“No,” I stop him with a shake of my head. “You were looking out for Xaden, and you were right to
do it. I’m glad you said those things. I needed to hear them.”

“I could have been nicer,” he muses.

“That’s the Riorson in you,” I grumble and he laughs. I don’t know much about Bohdi, either. He’s
Xaden’s family, one of Xaden’s best friend. I want to know him, and I didn’t even know his signet
until tonight. Time to rectify that. “What was your mom like?”

Unlike the other Riorson, he doesn’t close up shop. Instead, he smiles in a way that says he
remembers her fondly.

“She was badass,” he says. “She was a couple of years younger than Uncle Fen, but I think she
might have been the only person he was afraid of. She was a gifted water wielder. She used to
make fountains for Xaden and I to run through when we were kids. Sometimes, she’d take us to
the beach and command the waves. We’d call out animals and she would shape them with the
water. Three guesses what Xaden chose over and over.”

“A dragon.”

“A dragon,” he nods. “I liked to change it up, personally, but Xaden always wanted a dragon.” He
reaches out in front of us, pushes a limb aside, holds it for me to pass. I mutter a thanks. “She was
also a really good cook. Like phenomenal.” He sighs. “I miss her cooking.”

I squeeze his arm for the second time today.

“She sounds lovely.”

“She was,” he assures me. “I’ll see her again one day, though. Malek willing.”

That makes me smile. I’ve noticed that about Bohdi, that he has a quiet faith in something bigger
than himself. Most of us know the gods, what they represent. We might send up an urgent prayer
or commend the soul of a lost loved one, but more likely, we take their name in vain and carry on. I
haven’t been to temple in more than a year and the last time I was forced there by my mother for
some ceremony or other. Bohdi has himself grounded in the gods though, and I like that about him,
that he believes he will see his mom again one day. It’s a rare purity in the death-filled world we’ve
found ourselves in.

“What was Fen’s signet?” I wonder.

“Uncle Fen was a…” He stops, glances my way as he pushes yet another limb out of the way.
“You know what? Why don’t you ask Xaden sometime? It’s not that I don’t want to tell you or
shouldn’t tell you or anything like that. Xaden doesn’t get to talk about his dad much and I think he
might like to. Especially with you.” He pauses. “It might help him.”

I damn near hug Bohdi. He’s right, of course. Xaden doesn’t talk about his dad much. He says
things here and there, but almost always cuts himself off or changes the subject. While I’m certain
some of his hesitation is that it’s hard for him, there is also the fact that his father is Fen Riorson,
the Great Betrayer. The people Xaden has been surrounded by for the last three years, probably his
time in fostering, too, hate Fen Riorson. Xaden has had to navigate life as his son and at least
pretend to pledge his loyalty to Navarre. Talking about his father would draw attention, make
people question his supposed loyalty.

“Were you also fostered?” I ask Bohdi. He’s a window into Xaden and the aftermath of the
revolution, but I genuinely want to know him, too.
“I was,” he nodded. “The family I was with was decent enough, but I caused some trouble. Grief,
you know? And anger, I suppose. I struggled being away from Xaden, too. He was all I had left,
and we had never gone more than a few days without seeing one another. I didn’t see him again
until my Conscription Day.”

I do the math. Four years. Bohdi and Xaden, all each other had left, were separated for four years.
It’s another piece of kindling on the blazing fire of rage I have for what my country has done to
innocent people.

Easy, warns Tairn. He says that a lot lately. Our time will come.

I nod in response.

“Your friend just arrived,” Bohdi reports. He holds out his hand to stop me. I do, watch as he
listens. “She’s alone. No one around.” He glances my way again. “You trust her?”

“I do,” I nod.

“Okay then.”

We resume walking and a thought hits me.

“Did you know I was in the tree that night the marked ones met?”

“Sure did,” he quips. “Figured Xaden would handle it. He came back talking about you throwing
daggers at his head. He was fucking amused, thought it was the greatest thing. I think that’s when I
knew he was going to fall for you. I hadn’t seen him that lit up in a long time. He kind of reminded
me of how my dad was about my mom. He was Uncle Fen’s best friend, but he worshipped the
ground my mother walked on.”

That makes me smile.

Jesinia comes into view. She’s hidden under a cloak and her nerves are palpable.

“She’s deaf,” I say to Bohdi in a whisper. “Do you know sign language?” He shakes his head. “I’ll
do what I can to interpret in real time.” I’ll have to. Xaden doesn’t know it either. “I’ll fill you in
after.” He nods his agreement. Jesinia spots us and I give her a little wave. She smiles back, just
slightly. I dip into my archive while we make our final approach.

Ready? I ask Xaden.

Always.

It’s quicker this time. I can feel his presence, almost like he’s walking right alongside me. It’s
oddly comforting.

Tell Bohdi he needs a haircut.

I snort back a laugh. Bohdi gives me a curious look.

“Later,” I tell him.

I’m going to tell Bohdi about our mental connection. If Garrick and Brennan know, it feels wrong
that he doesn’t.

Agreed. Emphasis on the haircut though. He looks like one of those shaggy cows.
I find myself snorting again. Bohdi full on raises an eyebrow.

“Later,” I repeat before turning my attention back to Jesinia. I sign a greeting.

“I only have a moment,” she replies. “I don’t like being in the woods alone.”

“You’re safe,” I promise, speaking the words for Bohdi and Xaden’s benefit as I sign them. “We’ll
walk back with you, as far as we can.” She nods and dips a hand into her robe. I see Bohdi’s hand
drift towards the dagger I know is at his side.

He doesn’t need…

Instinct, Violence, Xaden says. I’d do the same thing, no matter how much I trust your judgment.

Stupid boys.

Heard that.

Meant for you to, I retort. He chuckles.

Brennan and Garrick are here by the way. They don’t know I’m watching what you’re seeing, but
they know I’m getting a real-time update on what’s going on. I’m going to tell them as we go.

I don’t reply. Instead, I accept the leatherbound sheath of papers she passes me.

“I snuck those out of the deepest parts of the archives,” she shares. “A restricted section I only just
got access to.” She narrows her eyes at me. “Because they trust me.”

“Thank you,” I say and sign. “I know you’re putting yourself at risk.” I start to unbind the leather.
“What’s in here?”

“You asked about the fostering. I started looking and it’s only mentioned in passing in those
papers, just a paragraph. But there’s so much other stuff there. So much that doesn’t make sense.
They talk about the venin you mentioned as though they are real. It’s the last pages that made me
decide to bring it to you.”

I flip to the end.

You can see this? I ask Xaden.

I can, he confirms. Bohdi moves to stand over my shoulder and read as well.

It is this scribe’s opinion that it is in the best interest of Navarre’s population that we omit these
records of venin, wyvern, and other such nonsense from the records to maintain the narrative that
the province of Tyrrendor rebelled not because of threats by creatures believed by most to be a
myth, but because of a push for land and independence from the crown. More importantly, this
recommendation supports the safety of our kingdom and those protected inside the wards. Knowing
of these menacing creatures who reside only in the Barren will create fear where fear does not
need to be. Strike these records from print and burn the evidence. I have spoken to command they
agree. Navarre has no need to acknowledge these creatures. There is no threat.

The note is signed ‘Chester Cole.’

Marcum’s father, Xaden says.

I can hardly breathe.

“Jesinia, thank you,” I rush. I flip through the papers. Notes on battles, reports on venin, on
wyvern, debates on what to tell people, it’s all there. All the proof I could need is in my hands. “I
know what this could cost you. We will protect you, swear it.”

“What’s going on?” she signs. “I know something big is happening. The people allowed to see the
reports from the field as they come in have dwindled to just a few of the highest ranked scribes,
and the redacted parts are getting longer and longer. Are we in danger?”

I want to lie to her, tell her she’s safe. Honestly, with the scribe quadrant underground, she
probably is among the safest in Navarre. Still, none of us should be resting easy.

“There is a lot happening outside the wards,” I tell her. “The wards falter a little more every day.
Command doesn’t want us to know what’s happening – or what’s really out there. It’s only a
matter of time before it can no longer be hidden, and I fear it may be too late by then.”

“What should I do?” Jesinia asks.

“Business as usual,” I order her. “You pretend like you know nothing. Keep your head down, but
your eyes open. You are uniquely protected by their presumption that you don’t understand when
they speak in words. on’t understand that you are smart, clever, and a master at reading body
language. They underestimate you, and that’s your superpower to knowing what’s going on and
how to navigate it when it comes. Report back to me or Bohdi and only me or Bohdi if you see or
come across anything you think we should know about. Tell no one – absolutely no one – what
you know.”

Her vigorous nod is good enough for me. I go back to the last page and hold it up. I point to
Chester’s signature.

“Is he alive or dead?”

“Alive,” she reports. I repeat the word for Xaden and Bohdi’s benefit. Bohdi remains stoic, but I
hear Xaden’s sharp intake of breath. “He’s a recluse, never comes out of his office. He’s volatile,
too. People are afraid of him.”

“He’s Marcum’s father.” Her eyes widen. “Keep your distance from him if you don’t already.
Chester Cole is not the good guy here.”

Ask her where his quarters are, Xaden requests.

“Where are his quarters?”

“Deep within the scribe quadrant. Someone brings him food three times a day. I don’t think he’s
seen daylight in years. He’s absolutely mad.”

I exchange looks with Bohdi. I can tell his wheels are already turning, too.

“Thank you, Jesinia,” I say again. “I cannot emphasize enough how much we appreciate you.”

“I don’t want to know who we is,” she says with a nervous look at the sliver of Bohdi’s rebellion
relic peeking out of his sleeve. “But if I can continue to help, I will.” She glances over her shoulder.
“I should get back…”

“We’ll escort you,” I say again.

None of us speak as we walk, not even Xaden who is still right there with me. We go our separate
ways at the edge of the woods. I tuck the illicit file deep into my jacket.

Hide it in…

Your room, I finish Xaden’s thought. The wards – will I be able to let Bohdi in?

You can open the door for anyone you trust. You’ll have to be careful, though. It’s one thing for
you, a single person, to sneak in and out. You start parading half of Basgaith through there, they’re
going to get suspicious.

What’s our next move? I ask him.

You and Bohdi, at minimum, need to get the hell out of Basgaith and bring that file with you.

What about Imogen?

We may need her to stay on. Her signet is too valuable to us when it comes to hiding information
from Dain and the others, especially now that we’ve managed to infiltrate the scribe quadrant.

She won’t like that.

No, he agrees, she won’t.

I have a thought.

When is the next weapons run?

Two nights from now.

What if I sent this file to you? I don’t like the idea of it being in the open, even if it's in your room.

I don’t like the thought of it flying across the continent. Too many ways it could go missing. If that
information falls into the wrong hands…

He’s right, of course. The strategy and logic to my facts and theory.

I’ll keep it safe here, then, bring it with me when I return.

Soon, he says. I mean it, Violence. You have days left, a week or two, tops.

Is that an order, Commandant? I challenge.

I can order Bohdi and the others. I won’t order you. You won’t listen anyway, but you’re my equal.
I won’t tell you what to do, but I’ll make damn sure you know my preference.

His equal.

We’re going to have to talk about that and what it means. I’m a lot of things. A Commanding
General is not one of them.

His equal in other ways, however…

Threshing, I say instead. Let us get through threshing.

Days, Violet, he says again. That’s it.

I don’t disagree.
We’re about to sneak back in. I’ll check in once I hide the file.

Be careful.

He fades away and I give Bohdi my full attention.

“We’re still alone?” I confirm.

“Other than a couple of racoons up there.” He points to the tree above us. I catch his elbow to stop
him from stepping out of the trees.

“A few things,” I begin. “I’m hiding this file in Xaden’s room. I’ll let you in as needed.”

“Good idea,” he nods. “Although we have a weapons run two nights from now. I could get it to
Aretia if needed…”

“Xaden doesn’t want to take the risk of it falling into the wrong hands.” Bohdi narrows his eyes.

“How would you know…”

“This is a good time to tell you Xaden and I share a mental connection like we do with the
dragons,” I tell him. “Xaden was, for all intents and purposes, there tonight, too. He’s fully aware
of what went down.”

Understanding dawns on Bohdi.

“I fucking knew it!” he exclaims. “Xaden knew too much…” He shakes his head with a smirk.
“You two are something else entirely. I even asked Xaden if he could read your thoughts once and
he denied the hell out of it. I didn’t believe him. He just knew too much.”

“He also said we have days before we need to leave Bagaith. He’s giving us until threshing, but
he’s not going to wait much longer before ordering us back.”

“I’d go tonight if I could convince you,” Bohdi says. “I hate being here.”

Same, Tairn and Sgaeyl say at the same time.

You two were rather quiet today. And where’s Andarna?

I’m here, she chimes in.

You had it handled, Silver One, Tairn said.

The Commandant did call you his equal, Sgaeyl echoes.

A vote of confidence if I ever heard one.

“Soon,” I say to Bohdi. “You’ll be home soon.” I look around. It’s quiet as a temple mouse to my
regular human ears. “All clear?” I wait, watch, as he does a sweep.

“All clear,” he confirms. “There is a couple making out in a dark corner, but they’re too busy to
notice us.”

We start to walk.

“Bohdi?”
 “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

He smiles at me, lets me know he understands I’m thanking him for so much more than just
accompanying me tonight.

“You’re not so bad, Sorrengail. Reckon I wouldn’t mind you being family one day.”

Family.

A loaded word that I’ve admittedly refused to let myself think about in combination with the
tumultuous nature of Xaden and I’s relationship. Yet it is, perhaps, the one thing from the old
Violet’s hopes and dreams that I still want. I can’t think about it right now though, not until I’m
clearer on where things stand with Xaden and I.

“Xaden said to tell you to get a haircut, by the way.”

Bohdi looks at me.

“Seriously?”

“To be exact, he said you look like one of those shaggy cows.”

“The next time you talk to him, do me a favor and tell him I said fuck off.”

I laugh and let Bohdi hold the door for me as we slip back into Basgaith.

Right into the heart of enemy.

Chapter End Notes

Mira definitely knows about the venin and wyvern. Now it's just believing...

But a moment for Bohdi? He went to bat for his cousin and he let our girl Violet in on
just how tough things had been for them. He's a true good one. I bet his mom was
wonderful.

Next update - a little sexy time, a disagreement, and a few more things... We're not far
off from Violet's return to Aretia, but these next few chapters are action. packed.

Thank you so very much for reading and hello to all the new readers! Let me know
what you thought of this one!
 Chapter 12
Chapter Notes

Shoutout to all those who joined Team Bohdi after the last chapter. ❤️

See the end of the chapter for more notes

I stretch my arms overhead and yawn as I enter my bedroom. It’s been a long day, and I’m damn
ready to get into bed. Maybe I’ll actually sleep tonight. First time for everything. I grasp the hem
of my shirt and go to pull it over my head.

Except something moves in my bathing chamber.

I let the hem fall back into place and draw one of my daggers out of its sheath. I send my shadows
ahead of me as I creep towards the door. They slither under the crack and report back
instantaneously.

It’s Violet.

Violet?

She’s here?

How?

When?

I abandon all sense of defense and I’m across the room and at the door in two steps.

“Violet?” I call as I rap the door a couple of times.

It opens right away and there she is.

I can’t breathe.

She’s right there. I can see her. If I dare, I can reach out and touch her. I don’t and I won’t. Not
unless she asks me to.

Except…

“What are you wearing?”

Her smile is dazzling.

“You like it?”

She twirls and her dress uniform flows around her.

“You look incredible.” I’m not going to touch her, but my gods am I going to openly salivate over
the way that dress – no, skirt, I correct myself – falls around her hips and how the slit shows an
ample amount of thigh.
My mind catches up with my libido.

“Wait. Why are you wearing that?” I look around the room. It’s my room, but it feels – different.
Wrong. “When did you get here? How did you get here?”

She doesn’t answer right away. She just keeps smiling.

“Violet?” I prompt. “What’s going on?”

“Xaden.”

She comes to me, puts her hands on my shoulders. I wasn’t going to touch her, but my hands have a
mind of their own and I’m holding her waist before I realize I’m doing it. I open my mouth to ask
my questions again, but her hands are sliding along my shoulders and up my neck and finally come
to a rest on my cheeks. She draws me towards her.

“Violence,” I try as her lips come closer, “we should talk…”

“No talking, just fucking.”

“But…”

I try to avoid her lips, but she chases mine and I give in because she’s Violet and I’m a man.

Lightning explodes, lights the room up bright. Kissing her after so long is even better than I’ve
dreamed about. I’m so wrapped up in her lips against mine that I don’t realize we’re in bed until
I’m flat on my back and she’s straddling me. Shit. We need to stop. We need to talk…

“Violet,” I try. “I want you…”

“You’re going to get me,” she says. “I’m going to ride your cock so hard.”

“Okay, but….”

Her hands are running all over my chest and my pants are too tight. All I want is to be buried in her,
but I made a promise to myself – and to her, even though she doesn’t know it. I have to keep it.

“Violet, please, we… Talk…”

Her lips are back on mine and gods what is she doing to me?

“Feel good?” she asks.

“So good,” I groan. “I wanted to talk, but I’m losing all sense of control with you all over me like
this.” My hands are on her thighs and wait, when did she get naked? I didn’t undress her. She
knows I like to undress her.

Holy shit.

I’m naked, too. I know because she has me in her hand and I fucking groan. It’s been so long. So.
Damn. Long. Then she’s positioning me at her entrance and I’m letting it happen while thinking
about how I haven’t had a chance to make sure she is ready for me. The noise I make as she slides
onto me is guttural.

“Violet,” I heave. “So good.”

“I know.” She leans down, her chest against mine. I lift my chin, ready to receive her kiss, chance
pumping my hips into her. Her lips stop a breath from mine. Those beautiful hazel eyes of hers
meet mine and fuck she’s stunning.

Her eyes start to swirl.

Dark shadows fill them, spinning like the eye of a hurricane. I try to draw back, but I have nowhere
to go.

“Violet, what…”

“Traitor,” she whispers against my lips as she lifts her body, sinks back onto me.

My heart plummets.

“No…”

“Traitor,” she says again. Black veins start to crack across her face. “Traitor. Traitor. Traitor.” Her
chant fills the room. The movement of her hips punctuates each ‘traitor.’

“No!”

I try to fight her off, but she has me. I can’t move, can’t stop it, can’t close her out.

“Traitor! Traitor! Traitor!”

“Violet, no!”

“Traitor! Traitor! Traitor!” She keeps chanting as she bucks against me and I’m trying so hard to
get her off me, but I can’t. The sound of her scream, the same scream that echoed through the sky
as she fell from Tairn, fills the air. She doesn’t stop chanting and her voice crying out that Liam is
dead joins it. Visions of her lifeless body swim before me. “Traitor! Traitor! Traitor!”

Tears leak from my eyes.

This isn’t how it was supposed to be!

“I’m sorry!” I cry out. “Violet, I’m so sorry! Please! Please, stop!” My cock is throbbing and I’m
going to come. I try again to push her off me, but she holds firm, keeps chanting as she rides me,
the screams and shouts growing louder all around me. “Violet!” I beg. “Please!”

I startle awake with a cry. I’m drenched in sweat and tangled in the sheets. I kick and thrash my
way out of them, the feeling of being held down like I was in my dreams too real. My breaths are
fast and short, and tension fills my body. I shove a hand through my hair.

“It was a dream,” I say to my empty room. “A dream.”

Another fucking dream.

It’s been years since I slept well, but since Violet fell from Tairn, sleep has been damn near
impossible. I have these nightmares nearly every night. Sometimes, like tonight, she’s fucking me,
and I can’t do what I know is the right thing. Other times, I’m powerless as I watch her fall through
the sky, screaming “traitor” as she goes. The worst ones are when the others join her in pointing
out all my failures.

My dad.
Liam.

I don’t know how to make them stop.

It takes several minutes to bring my breathing under control. My heart is still beating a little too fast
when I stand and walk to my wall of window, the same windows I had Violet against when she
first woke up, swearing to her that I’m going to prove she can trust me. It’s closing in on three
months since she’s been gone and while I think we’re making progress, I can’t be sure, not until
she’s here and I can gauge things for myself.

I do okay most of the time. Being Commanding General is an excellent distraction from the
shambles my personal life is in. I train and I oversee and I plot and I plan. I hold meetings and visit
Aretia citizens and spar with Garrick and Brennan. Those two can even talk me into the occasional
drink and a round of whatever new way they have come up with to gamble that day. I work and I
lead, and I do all I need to do and when I finally go to bed, I’m exhausted. Tonight, I was so tired
when I got to my room that I was certain I was going to sleep through the night. I don’t even
remember getting into bed. Except here I am, three hours after I laid down, wide awake, mind
racing. My first instinct is to reach out to Violet, but surely she’s asleep, and at least one of us
should get some rest.

There are tonics for your sleepless nights, Sgaeyl says.

I’m not knocking myself out, I reply. Something might come up.

You need sleep, Commandant.

I need a lot of things. I purse my lips. Marcum made it up the gauntlet.

Incredible, isn’t it?

I don’t get it.

None of us do.

What are the odds a dragon will bond him?

Next to none.

Sgaeyl is nothing if not honest.

They were unimpressed by him at Presentation.

According to Violet, they were unimpressed by a lot of them.

Presentation had happened earlier today. Several cadets had been scorched. Two dragons had
actually flown away, withdrawing from bonding this year on the spot. Violet is worried and she
has every reason to be.

It will take a certain kind of rider to face the threats ahead. The dragons know that.

Sloane will bond.

Most likely, Sgaeyl confirms.

It seems like Tairn isn’t around and so I take the chance.

How is Violet doing?

She’s a good leader. Strong. Empathetic.

I know that, I say. How is she doing?

Sgaeyl sighs.

She needs to leave this place.

Threshing…

She’s going to negotiate for more time.

I know, I admit. Would Tairn remove her by force if asked?

He’s not above it, but it would do you no favors.

Violet would be livid. I know that. But if we can’t get her out of Basgiath on her own accord, we
might have to report to drastic measures.

You get anything useful from the other dragons? I change the subject on purpose.

Nothing I’m going to share.

I huff out my annoyance. Sgaeyl and Tairn have been making their own diplomatic connections
among the dragons. They share next to nothing, however, and it is frustrating as hell. I need
dragons, and it would be fucking helpful to know how many I actually have.

Go back to bed, Sgaeyl advises.

No use. I won’t sleep.

She sighs, but she doesn’t argue. We have had this discussion many times over. Once I wake up
from one of these dreams, I’m not going back to sleep. I try sometimes, but I’m too worked up to
close my eyes and just end up looking at the ceiling while I catastrophize in my mind. So instead, I
be productive, which is what I’m going to do now.

I dig out a pair of soft pants and a t-shirt, something more casual than what equals the uniform I’ll
put on when the rest of the world wakes up, and head to my office. There is a long list of things I
could do, but tonight – this morning? – I decide to focus on something that will distract me:
rebuilding Aretia.

I lose myself in the work. I move pins around on a map, make lists, note people I should connect,
jobs that could be created or that need to be filled. I review the report that came in the previous day
on winter stores, determine what we have enough of, what we need more of. Wood and coal for
heat top the list of resources I want to stockpile despite the report saying we have an “adequate”
supply. I spend some time pondering what to do about Garrick’s home, too. The home itself is long
gone, burned to the ground, nothing left but ash. The land is his, though, and I’d like to see him do
something with it, if he can work out the complicated emotions the empty sight brings. Bohdi and I
both lived in the castle. Our home was the one thing we didn’t lose, despite being forced to leave
it. I hope someday, Garrick will rebuild his.

By the time Garrick and Brennan yawn their way into the cavernous dining room, I’m dressed in
my usual uniform and working my way through a plate of bacon, eggs, and toast.
“How long have you been up?” Garrick asks by way of greeting. He is not what one would call a
morning person. He goes straight for the coffee on the sidebar.

“A few hours.”

“Define ‘few,’” Brennan says as he takes a mug and passes one to Garrick. They have a weird sort
of coffee routine they do most mornings that fascinates me. Brennan gets the mugs, Garrick fills
them, they pass sugar and cream back and forth. It’s like an old married couple except Brennan is
into Angelique and Garrick pretends he only sees Imogen as a friend.

I check the time. It’s just after seven. “About four.”

Both of them look at me.

“Xaden…” Brennan starts.

“Dude, you have got to get some sleep,” Garrick says at the same time. He passes Brennan the cup
of coffee he just poured. Brennan passes him the empty mug and reaches for the creamer. Old.
Married. Couple.

“I’d say I can sleep when I’m dead, but that feels like a bad omen.”

“Yeah, don’t say shit like that,” Garrick warns. “Being fake dead is bad enough.”

“Who made breakfast anyway?” Brennan wonders. “I thought Ms. Jade was off on Wednesday
mornings.”

“She is, and I did,” I say. “Don’t expect it to be a regular occurrence. I was hungry and figured I
may as well feed us all.”

Ms. Jade has taken care of my family and ran this castle and its staff for almost three decades. My
dad and I would have probably starved to death – or at least eaten a lot worse – without her. The
castle would surely be in shambles. She’s the closest thing I have to a grandmother, and she runs a
tight ship. She didn’t get to meet Violet while she was here, but she’s made it known that she very
much looks forward to the chance. I’ve also learned from Ms. Jade and my time spent in the
kitchen trying to convince her to take some time off, that house staff gossip worse than riders in a
war college. I’m also pretty certain Brennan is the one feeding their fire, but he’s been the one
living here permanently the last several years and they’re all fond of him. If pressed, they would
probably pledge their loyalty to him over me at this point.

“What’s the plan for today?” Brennan asks as he shovels food onto his plate.

“We need to attempt to make contact with the pair of riders we sent up the coast,” I rattle off. “I
also want to dispatch a unit to Athebyne. Let’s confirm it’s still abandoned, and check in on the
town while we’re there, see if they need anything we might be able to provide.

“Send Dose and Calese,” Garrick says. “We need to go undetected. Dose’s signet is invisibility and
Calese has enhanced vision.”

“Good choice,” I approve. “Dispatch them after breakfast.”

Garrick nods his agreement.

“I want you to take a quick trip to the cliffs,” I continue, talking directly to Garrick. “Check in on
that box, make sure it’s still there. Be discreet. You’re dead, and that box is valuable.”
“A chance to fly,” he says, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

“Brennan, I want you to drill the new recruits on some basic flight maneuvers this afternoon.”
They are five new recruits total, all on the younger side. Two came over to the rebellion after
deflecting from their unit after witnesses the venin firsthand. One is believed dead after a skirmish
with the fliers and two of my people came across him wounded, brought him back, and brought
him around to our side. The other two were recruited by my emissaries. “I plan to meet with them
later this morning. I want to be clear on their loyalties and make sure they know what they’re
getting into.”

“I’ll join you,” he nods. “And as Garrick says, a chance to fly.”

I have to admit I’m a little jealous of both of them. Brennan keeps to the confines of Aretia on the
rare occasion he does get in the sky, but they have a freedom I currently don’t. I remind myself it
won’t be much longer until Sgaeyl and Violet are both here. Since I won’t be able to do the first
thing I want to do when they arrive – kiss Violet senseless - I’ll head for the clouds instead, and as
soon as possible.

Can’t wait.

Sgaeyl’s sarcasm is fake. She’s too proud to admit it, but she’s looking forward to our next flight
too.

I continue on, listing out the agenda I’ve planned for the day, making a couple of adjustments here
and there based on their feedback. These meetings aren’t the formal all hands meeting we’ll go into
right after breakfast, but they are the most valuable ones of the day. Brennan and Garrick are my
checks and balances. I need them to plan and win this war.

“Now that that’s done,” I say as I put aside my pen and paper, “I need another cup of coffee.”

“How many are you up to?” Garrick asks.

“This will be my third.”

Or is it fourth? I don’t really count anymore.

“Your stomach is probably corroded with acid,” Brennan states.

“Good thing I know a mender, then.”

I pour the cup and don’t bother with cream and sugar. I take mine black, unlike the pansies at the
table with me. I return to my seat at the head of the table – my dad’s old seat – and lean back in my
chair.

“Heard anything from Violet yet?” Brennan asks.

“Not yet, but it’s early.”

Violet checks in a lot more lately. She doesn’t usually have major updates, but I don’t mind.
Hearing her voice in my head always slows down the spinning carousel that never stops. It tampers
the anxiety that bubbles just under the surface, too. Hearing her voice means she’s safe.

“Mira should get out of confinement today, right?” Garrick asks.

“In theory,” Brennan says. “Depends on what she’s said or done and what kind of mood our mother
is in come release hour.”

Lilith Sorrengail is a problem I need to address. If it were up to me and me alone, there would be
no discussion. I’d put a bounty on her head and request the first shot. I don’t know that Brennan
would fully object to doing the same, although I can’t be sure. He’s not her biggest fan, but she’s
still his mother. It’s Violet that’s the wild card. She didn’t even want to kill Jack Barlowe despite
his threat to her. Her mother is a whole other story. What to do with Lilith Sorrengail is a decision
that I’ll make with them, out of respect for them. And Mira, should she join us.

“If Mira’s temper is any indication, she may be staring at the walls a little longer,” I say.

“If that’s the case, Violet will almost certainly attempt to spring her.”

“Speaking of Violet. We need a plan for getting her and Bohdi out of there.”

“And Imogen,” Garrick pipes up.

“We may need her to stay,” I say carefully, making sure I do him the respect of looking him in the
eye. “Her signet is too valuable in protecting our secrets from Navarre.”

“But…”

“I know,” I say with a nod. “Trust me, Garrick, I know. Nothing is a done deal yet. We need to
wait and see how the next couple of days shake out.”

I don’t want to leave Imogen. I don’t want to leave any of those at Basgiath who are aware of the
rebellion or who wear the rebellion relic. I know Violet won’t want to leave her friends. That’s the
problem with war. Sacrifices that weight heavy on your heart and mind have to be made. I also
know what it looks like – that I’m bringing the people who mean the most to me back to Aretia.
While he’s not wrong, I need Bohdi for his leadership ability, his strategic mind, and, honestly, his
ability to lift the mood. I need Violet because she’s smarter than all of us, never mind her signet
and dragons.

“You’re anticipating something,” Brennan observes.

“I’m trying not to make trouble where it’s not, but something is building. I can feel it.”

Neither of them contradicts me. They feel it, too.

“You want them to move first,” Garrick deciphers.

“I do,” I nod. “They strike first, we’re going to look a hell of a lot more appealing in the court of
public opinion. They will say something along the lines of ‘the rebels are at it again,’ and then we
come back swinging with the truth.” I take a beat. “Of course, if the venin strike first, we avoid the
whole part where we expose Navarre, but at the expense of a lot of innocent lives, and I don’t want
that either.”

“War has no good answers,” Brennan muses.

“The fucking truth,” I agree. I drum my fingers on the tabletop. “I’ve been considering doing
something stupid.”

“I’m in,” Garrick says without hesitation. I chuckle. If there is one thing I can count on, it’s
Garrick to blindly agree to just about anything.
“I reserve my commitment until I know more,” Brennan said. The reasonable one, always.

“I want to kidnap Chester Marcum.”

They stare.

“You have lost your mind,” Brennan declares.

“Our first prisoner of war,” Garrick says. “Intriguing.”

“That guy knows shit,” I say. “I know he does. No one hides away in the bowels of the archives for
years on end for the hell of it. He let his son be fostered, too. We need to question him.”

“I have a substantial number of questions,” Brennan says. I raise an eyebrow for him to ask them.
“First of all, how do you propose we kidnap what I assume is a highly valuable scribe from the
depths of Basgiath?”

“I said I was considering doing something stupid, not that I have an idea as to how to do it,” I say.
Brennan scoffs. Violet would have the same reaction. Garrick, however, chuckles, and I’m
reminded we’re a bunch of kids playing war, all things considered. We’re legal adults and we’ve
been through a substantial amount of shit, but the generals we’ll face have twenty-plus years of
experience on us. “I just think it needs to be done.”

“Next question, what makes you so certain Chester knows anything?”

“It’s an educated guess,” I say. “All signs point to the fact that he plays a significant role in hiding
all of this from the general public.”

“Do either of you remember anything at all about this man?” Brennan continues. “You seem to
remember his wife…”

“Lottie,” Garrick nods. “She was a scribe, too. Whip smart. Like, Violet smart.”

“My dad trusted her,” I say. “To my knowledge, she never once gave him bad intel. He did his best
to keep me out of things…” Garrick snorts at that. We spent most of our teen years eavesdropping
and getting ran out of meeting rooms we weren’t supposed to be in. “But she was a double agent.
She was bringing him information straight from Navarre.”

“I don’t remember him being around much though,” Garrick recalls. “I remember Marcum. Ms.
Jade was always trying to make us ‘play’ with him, even though we were teenagers. He looked at
us like we were the shit he stepped in.”

“He spent most of his time in the library,” I recall. “We tried to get him to hang out with us a few
times – mostly to get Ms. Jade off our backs – but he wanted nothing to do with us.” I purse my
lips. “His rebellion relic is small. Barely the size of a fist. It’s right here.” I point to the back of my
arm, above my elbow. “Most of us have much more substantial marks.”

“Why would his be so small?” Brennan wonders.

“No idea,” I shake my head.

“Why is yours so large?” Garrick wonders. “Mine, Bodhi’s?”

“I always assumed it was because our parents were the most heavily involved.”

“Yet his mom was feeding you dad valuable information and his is small?” Brennan points out.
Neither Garrick nor I have an answer to that. “May I suggest we don’t kidnap any wayward scribes
until we have a plan?”

“We need him,” I say stubbornly. “But I agree, we need an actual plan. I also will not be
mentioning it to your sister, because she will take it upon herself to do just that. I’m already losing
even more sleep than I already was worrying about her trying to sneak down to his quarters and
question him.”

I dared her to, comes Tairn’s voice.

You know damn well that’s the fastest way to make her want to do something – tell her not to.

She’s smart, Train reminds me. Silver One won’t do something stupid.

I consider rattling off the list of brave but stupid things Violet has to her name, starting with
defending baby dragons against three madmen, but I don’t. Train doesn’t need me to.

Garrick checks the time.

“Morning debrief is in five,” he reports. I nod and push back from the table.

“Let’s go.”

I top my coffee off first.

The debrief goes fine. They usually do. Once in a while someone will push back or complain, but
for the most part, the leadership I’ve assembled trusts my judgment which is equal parts
comforting and terrifying. I send Garrick off to check on the box, then prep to meet with the new
recruits.

Mira is out.

Violet.

It’s pathetic, the way my heart wakes up each time I hear her voice. I don’t care. I’m letting myself
feel what I feel for her. Denying it got me in trouble. Lessons learned or whatever.

How pissed is she?

Be glad she’s not a lightning wielder. She would have burned this place down and everyone and
anything in her path along with it. She’s demanding a private meeting with our mother.

Private as in you’re going to attempt to eavesdrop again?

Of course.

I sigh. She’s where I struggle most as a commandant. The part of me leading this effort knows the
information she can glean is vital. The part of me that’s a fool in love wants to fight and kick and
scream to keep her from doing anything that might get her hurt.

Be…

Careful, she finishes, and I swear it sounds like she’s smiling. I hope she’s smiling. It feels like
things have gotten easier between us, more open. She checked on me a couple of evenings ago and
her timing was impeccable. It had been a rough day, and I was in my head, missing her, missing my
dad, beating myself up over decisions and choices I’ve made. I love Aretia, but being in the castle
full-time again is harder than I thought it would be. There is a memory around every corner and
that day, I’d walked down a hall I’ve traveled down a hundred times this month alone, saw the
closet my mom used to stuff me in, and needed to get as far away as possible.

How are the new recruits doing? she asks. If she wants to talk this morning, I’ll talk. I fill her in on
the day’s plan for them as I walk towards my next destination. I’m confessing my worries about
letting Garrick go to the cliffs alone, not to mention alive and well when he’s supposed to be dead,
when one of our guards finds me in the courtyard.

“Commandant Riorson.” He’s out of breath. “There’s… A riot… Dragons… Headed this way.”

“How many?”

I’m all action, already moving.

“Four.” He’s trying to keep up, but it’s clear he’s been racing all over this place trying to find me.
“Approaching… From…” Another heaving breath. “The north.”

The north.

Navarre.

“Fuck.”

I break into a run.

Riorson?

Fucking last name.

There’s a riot of dragons approaching Aretia from the north. Four of them.

Friend or foe?

No fucking idea.

I skid into the training area where Brennan has just gotten started with the recruits.

“On your dragons,” I order. “A riot is approaching from the north. We don’t know who they are
are what they want. Go. Keep them away from our boarders.”

“Aren’t there wards?” one of them asks.

“Yeah, where there aren’t supposed to be,” I snap. The second they find non-Navarre sanctioned
wards we’re screwed. “Go!”

“On your dragons,” Brennan echoes the order. “We’re in the air in thirty seconds.”

I look at him.

“You’re not going.”

“The hell I’m not.”

“You’re dead…”

“And they’re brand new recruits,” he fires back. “With no available leadership outside of me. I’m
going. I’ll lay low. We’ll either turn them around or they’ll die before they get too close. Dead
people can’t report not so dead people.”

What’s going on? Violet demands.

Your fucking brother is insisting on going out head off the riot.

No. Absolutely not. They think he’s dead…

I’m handling it.

But…

I’m handling it, Violet.

I’m short with her, but I don’t need her telling me what I already know right now. Especially when
Brennan is all but at his dragon. I use my shadows to lasso him and hold him in place.

“Let me go, Riorson.” He doesn’t raise his voice so much as an octave. He doesn’t need to. A
Sorrengail doesn’t need to. “You know I need to go with them. Take the emotion out of it.”

Sorrengails also know how to get through to me.

“Send a drift of gryphons ahead of you,” I order. “If the dragons mean ill will, a skirmish with
fliers is a common occurrence. They meet us, we run the risk of exposing ourselves.” I loosen the
shadows but don’t quite let him go entirely. “Don’t die. Violet will kill me.”

I drop the shadows and he has the audacity to grin at me.

“See you in a bit.”

And then he’s on the back of his dragon and ordering the others to fall into formation as he sets off
into the sky. All I can do is watch.

You stopped him, right?

Fuck.

I let him go.

Riorson!

I had to, Violence. The only people at my immediate disposal right now are the five new recruits.
We’re sending a drift of gryphons ahead of them to disguise it as a usual gryphon attack. With
luck, that will be enough.

He’s supposed to be dead. How are you going to explain that if he’s caught?

He’s not going to be caught.

He could be.

If he is, we’ll…

Do not say figure it out.

We’ll figure it out! My temper is bubbling. I take a breath to try to reel it in. This is war, Violence. I
can’t keep Brennan grounded forever, just because you don’t want him exposed.

He’s my brother.

And he’s my best friend. We don’t get to play favorites.

Best friend.

Huh.

That’s a realization to unpack another day.

If something happens to him…

I’d go myself, but I don’t have a dragon, do I?

And who’s fault is that? she fires back.

Yours! I’m wrong and I know it, but I’m in a mood and can’t stop myself. If you would have stayed
in Aretia like I asked you to, I wouldn’t have had to send Sgaeyl with you.

Commandant, Sgaeyl warns. I ignore her.

You chose to send your dragon with me, Riorson. You do not get you blame that on me.

I had to send her with you. Never fucking mind that she’s mated to your dragon. If I didn’t send her
with you, I wouldn’t have a fucking idea as to what you’ve been up to.

You need to calm down and think about what you’re saying. No raised voice, just direct Sorrengail
communication making an attempt to bring me back to center and keep me from diving off the
cliff.

Except I’m already mid-jump.

I know what I’m saying. I’m grounded in Aretia because I don’t trust you not to get yourself killed
or tell me a damn thing going on there.

A deadly silence.

I realize what I said.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I didn’t just jump off that cliff. I took a running leap.

Violet…

No.

There is ice in that one word. Panic rises in my chest.

Violet, I didn’t…

You do not get to talk to me about trust, Riorson. You definitely don’t get to say you don’t trust me.
Not after the shit you’ve pulled.
Violet, please…

Make sure my brother makes it back safely.

She slams her shield down. I drop my chin to my chest. Guilt and shame flood my system. The
panic in my chest ratchets up several levels.

That was too far, Commandant, Sgaeyl says.

I know.

It’s a fool’s errand, but I brush my shadows along her shield anyway. It’s closed up airtight and my
chest starts to squeeze in on itself. I’ve done the worst possible thing. I’ve implied I don’t trust her,
and I’ve upset her. An upset Violet is reckless, and I’ve effectively lit the flame, right when she’s
got Mira there to stoke the fire.

Do you have eyes on her?

She’s Tairn’s problem. You are mine.

Then do what I sent you there to do. Watch out for her.

I’m not a guard dog, Commandant.

You know what she means to me.

It’s a plea. I never plead with Sgaeyl. She has been the one constant in my life for the last three
years. She’s a warrior, like me. She knows my family, knows our history. She knows that I
wouldn’t ask her to do something as pedestrian as watch over the woman I love if it wasn’t
absolutely paramount to my own well-being.

Brennan better come back safely, she says in reply and that’s as good as a yes.

Give her some time to cool off, I say. Then, tonight, politely – emphasis on politely – remind her
that I need to know what’s going on with Mira and her mom and anything else that’s happened as
Basgiath today.

I’ll remind her, but I make no promises it will be polite.

Sgaeyl fades away and I’m alone in the courtyard. I tilt my head back and observe the sky, hoping
to see something while trying to take deep breaths to quell the panic attack that wants to take me
down. Garrick returning from the cliffs, a pair of riders reporting back from their scouting
missions, an emissary returning to say we have another ally. I’d even take a visit from my aunts.
The skies are empty, though, and at the moment, so am I.

Empty and alone.

I pivot on my heel and march back through the castle. I cross paths with Ms. Jade on my mission.

“Commandant,” she greets. “Everything okay?”

“No,” I say, still moving.

“Do you need…”

“No.”
 “Where are you going?” she calls after me.

“To the gym,” I call back. “I need to beat the shit out of something.”

She lets me go, but I hear what she mumbles to herself as she continues on in the opposite
direction.

“He’s just like his father.”

Chapter End Notes

Xaden: Open mouth, insert foot. Of all the things he could have possibly said, "I don't
trust you" probably wasn't his best move. Add in his dream... Not a great day for him.
A moment for Garrick and Brennan's coffee routine though.

The next couple of updates are ACTION PACKED so buckle up - discussions with
Mira, meetings with Lilith, fallout from Xaden's big mouth, more from Marcum, and
of course... Threshing...

Thank you a thousand times over - I know I say it every update! - for reading. Every
comment and kudo makes me all giddy inside. ❤️❤️❤️

If you want to follow along with my writing journey - and maybe see photos of my
dogs who are really cute... - you can find me on Instagram: @SarahWylandWrites
 Chapter 13
Chapter Notes

About time for Mama Sorrengail to make an appearance, eh?

See the end of the chapter for more notes

There aren’t words to describe my level of fury at Xaden.

Mira has always complained about the audacity of mediocre men and right now, in my opinion,
Xaden and his audacity are the definition of that phrase. Except even in my fury, I can admit there
is nothing mediocre about Xaden Riorson. Even if you take away his good looks and skills on the
battlefield, his ability to say exactly the wrong thing – or nothing at all – is unmatched.

I’m sparring with Imogen. We’re both breathing hard and circling one another like prey. I can’t
recall a single time I’ve ever gone this hard on the mat, at least not willingly.

“The hell, Violet?” she breathes.

“Yield,” I demand.

“No.”

We go again. We spar until we both are on the mat, spread eagle and breathing hard. Neither of us
has yielded, but we are both completely done.

“Again,” she breathes, “the hell?”

“I had to work out something,” I say through my own heavy breathing.

“Clearly.”

“You two done?” Bohdi stands between us. Imogen lifts her head. I don’t bother.

“Where did you come from?” she asks.

“The flight field,” he replies. “Violet, I need you to tell Xaden…”

“I’m not speaking to him right now,” I interrupt him.

“Ah,” Imogen lets her head fall back to the mat in understanding. She is now in on our mental
bond, thanks to me feeling like she should know if Bohdi, Garrick, and Brennan do. “The
something.”

“Are you not speaking for the moment or is this more of a long-term thing?” Bohdi hedges.
“Because this way of communicating is much more efficient than my writing a letter. Never mind
that I’d have to listen to whichever one of them replies bitch about my messy handwriting.”

“Try writing neater,” I quip. “And I don’t know. He’s an idiot.”

“I hear no lies,” Imogen decides.

“What did he do to you?” Bohdi asks her.

“He’s a man. That’s enough.”

I hold up a tired hand. She gives me a tired high five.

“You know what? I think I’ll make myself scarce while you two hate men,” Bohdi decides. “You
might claw my eyes out for existing.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Imogen says.

“Get a haircut,” I add. Bohdi throws his arms up in frustration and walks off. I’ll find him later and
see if whatever he needs to tell Xaden is important. Even furious, I know I’ll have to let the shield
down and check in at some point today. Although the longer Xaden brushes his shadows against it
every hour or so, the longer he’s going to wait.

Immature, Sgaeyl reprimands.

He took it too far.

She huffs, but that’s the worst of it. Even she knows he was an asshole.

“There you are!” I lift my head to find Mira this time. She towers over me. “Why are you laying on
the floor?”

“Sparring,” I say.

“And men suck,” Imogen adds.

“You look like you did more than sparring and men do suck, generally speaking,” Mira states.
“Violet, let’s go for a walk.”

“I’m kind of against physical activity right now,” I say. “How about we go to my room?”

“We’re walking.”

I’m about to protest again when it occurs to me that Mira has been meeting with our mother. A
meeting I tried to eavesdrop on, but Mira is on to me, and so it was held somewhere else, the
location of which I didn’t manage to find out. I’m suddenly much more inclined to go for a walk. I
push myself to my feet with a groan – I’m going to need a very long, very hot shower tonight – and
follow Mira out of the gym. She doesn’t speak and her steps are aggressive. I have to all but jog to
keep up.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“Not yet.”

We walk until we’re under the cover of the trees. Surely leadership is aware that this forest is
where a lot of illicit shit goes down? Mira leads me a little deeper into the woods before she spins
to face me.

“Our mother is impossible!” she declares. “She is absolutely blinded by power. No sense of right
versus wrong, no cares for anyone or anything other than what is directly in front of her and even
then, it has to have leadership’s stamp of approval. She is awful.”

I let out a low whistle as I take in Mira’s frenzied pacing, the slight wildness in her eyes. This is so
un-Mira like. She doesn’t lose her composure. Whatever happened between her and our mother has
sent her over the edge. I get it though. Mom has that ability.

I decide to let her in on the truth. Some of it, anyway.

“I know about the venin.”

She stops and stares at me in disbelief. “What…”

“I know about the venin,” I repeat. “I saw them. At Athebyne.”

Mira is so stunned she has to lean against a tree to support herself.

“Does Mom know?”

I have to navigate this carefully. Mira is sharp. The slightest slip in my story and I risk exposing
everything. I can’t take that chance, not yet.

“I guess the best way to put it is that Mom doesn’t know that I know,” I say. “The War Games
missive sent us to Athebyne to be killed. No one who went was meant to return.”

Her brow furrows. She’s working out something.

Navigate. Carefully.

“Are you implying that leadership sent a group of cadets to Athebyne to face certain death?”

This is where I have to tell the truth, a version of it at least, while also protecting the others.

“Athebyne is abandoned.”

“What?” She shakes her head. “No, it’s not…”

“It is,” I insist. “Or was, at least. No one was there. We landed and Riorson read the missive,
which was addressed to him. Things unraveled from there.”

She looks at me like she can see through me. I do my best to keep my poker face.

“They – Riorson, his group – tried to kill you.”

“I killed them first.” I hate that lie. Even though I kind of want to kill Xaden right now, I don’t
actually want to kill him. “Imogen and Bohdi fought them with me. They turned their backs on
their friends, their family, and chose me, chose Navarre. We were able to get out of Athebyne
before the venin fully engaged. If we left anyone alive, the venin took care of them.”

If that tree weren’t behind Mira, she would be on the ground.

If there was a gold medal for lying, I’d have three of them. At least.

Not fun, picking and choosing what you tell the people you love, is it? I ignore Sgaeyl. I don’t need
to be reminded that I’m doing the very thing Xaden had to do. Our issues are less about what he did
or didn’t tell me and more about how he keeps me on the outside of knowing him.

“Have you told anyone this?” she asks. “About the venin, I mean? Did the other two see them?”

“This is the first time I mentioned it.” I keep my eyes on her, clocking her every move. “It feels
like something leadership wants to keep quiet. Venin aren’t supposed to be real.” Mira covers her
eyes with a hand and mutters gods to herself. “Imogen and Bohdi saw something, but they were too
hell-bent on getting out of there to register much. Bohdi was in a lot of pain with his broken arm,
and Imogen just wanted out.”

I wait. Several minutes pass. I lean against a tree myself, keep my eyes on Mira. Xaden once again
brushes his shadows along the shield. I once again ignore him.

Sgaeyl’s right – this is immature.

Tell me you wouldn’t like to scorch him, I reply to Tairn.

On a regular basis, he admits. Talk to him.

I grumble something rude his way, but I know the dragons are right. I’m mad at Xaden, but I’ve
also calmed down enough to remember what Bohdi said about how Xaden falls apart by pushing
people away and wanting to break things. He had to stay behind today, let others take the front
lines. He’s told me how hard it is for him to be grounded in the castle while the others are out there
meeting allies and apparently intercepting riots. His outburst today was his reaction to that sense of
helplessness – pushing me away, lashing out. He’s going to have to work on that if we’re going to
be together in the future.

It also occurs to me that by keeping my shield closed, I don’t know if things are okay in Aretia. I
let it drop, still watching Mira.

Did my brother make it back okay?

He’s fine. Always quick to reply. The gryphon fliers in the area intercepted them before we got
there. There was a small skirmish, but no fatalities and everyone made it back to their respective
locations. We don’t think they ever saw our dragons, let alone Brennan.

What did they want?

Best guess, they were checking on Athebyne. They flew from that direction. It’s not the first time
we’ve had wayward riders head our way. People get curious, want to see the ruins of Aretia. We
have wards around the city, but that will inevitably raise questions.

Because there aren’t supposed to be wards around Aretia, just around the kingdom.

Exactly, Xaden sighs, and I can tell he’s had a long day. Violet, I’m sor…

I close the shield. For now. Because Mira has let her hand fall away.

“Something isn’t adding up.”

“A lot of somethings don’t add up,” I counter.

“Who, exactly, was with you at Athebyne?” she questions.

“Bohdi and Imogen,” I rattle off. “Riorson. Liam Mairi.” Saying his name still hurts. “Garrick
Tavis. Soleil, Ciaran. A few others I don’t know. All marked ones.”

“And Riorson decided to kill you?”

“It was the perfect opportunity,” I continue the lie. “He could make my death look like a War
Games casualty. Never mind that the rest of them were supposed to die. He would get the privilege
of killing me first before meeting his own death.”

Saying it is wrong on every level. I hate lying to my sister. I hate accusing Xaden of something he
didn’t do, something he would never do. If he would have had it his way, I would have been on my
dragon flying out of Athebyne and away from the fray.

And if I had done that, they all would have died.

“Your dragons were bonded.” Mira starts to pace. “It was believed that if you died, he died. Why
would he risk that, Violet? I didn’t know him well, but he wasn’t the kind of guy that would take a
chance like that. He liked being alive too damn much, and he damn sure was going to fight
whatever he was confronted with in Athebyne. That’s who he was to his core. A fighter. Riorsons
are fighters.”

Navigate. Carefully.

“I guess some vendettas run deep,” I say. She does have Xaden pegged though. He was made for
this whole war thing. “The whole one dies the other dies thing was just a theory, anyway. Besides,
he was smarter than a lot of people gave him credit for.”

I’m careful to speak in past tense whenever Xaden is brought up. Everyone is suspicious here.
Speaking of him any other way might raise a flag. It’s hard though, and I’ve almost slipped
countless times.

It’s even harder hearing others speak of him in past tense. It makes the lie of his death seem almost
real.

“He was cunning,” Mira counters. “Underhanded.” I can’t decide if I agree with that or not. Xaden
is absolutely cunning, and he can be underhanded. But is he those things? Or does he have to be
those things? The Xaden I know – the one I thought I knew? – is far more complicated than the
façade he presents to the rest of the world would lead people to believe. She stops pacing and stares
me down. “He had feelings for you.”

“I thought he did.” I do my best to look sad. A couple of months ago, when all of this was still raw
and bleeding, I would have said that and meant it. Now… Now there’s still some lingering doubt as
to how he felt about me, but I can’t forget him in his room right after I woke up, informing me he
would be keeping my heart and fighting for my trust. Nor can I forget his heartbreak when I left
Aretia, or the way he’s been sharing things with me over our bond. That isn't the behavior of
someone who doesn’t have feelings for you. Still, until we’re face-to-face again, the doubt will
linger. “He tricked me into getting close to him, so I would trust him. I made it easy for him to lure
me away from where I should have been – with Dain or any other squad.”

Mira shakes her head, eyes still on me.

“I saw it in him. He cared for you. It was absolute bullshit that he showed up at Montserrat because
his dragon couldn’t stay away from Tairn. It was you he couldn’t stay away from. I’ve been
stationed with bonded dragons before. Yes, their bond is deep and powerful, but dragons,
especially ones as powerful and commanding as Sgaeyl and Tairn, can keep their metaphorical
pants on for longer than three days.”

Says she, Train quips. I purse my lips so I don’t laugh.

“He couldn’t stay away from you. The dragons are bonded, Violet, not the pair of you. Riders of
bonded dragons merely have to tolerate being in the same place as one another often. Riorson
wanted you. He meant what he said, too, about going to you while you were still in school, and he
was stationed. I saw him, constantly sneaking peeks at you, checking on you, always maneuvering
himself so he was near you. He quite literally put himself into your orbit time and time again. I
assure you, Violet, that man had feelings for you. Because I absolutely would have not trusted him
to be the one to get you out of Montserrat if I didn’t believe he did.”

I’m at a loss here. I can’t just tell her everything. But she knows I’m lying. About something. It’s
what I’m lying about that she can’t work out.

And hell, I bet she would have great advice on what to do with Xaden, too, but I can’t talk to her
about my relationship either. Not yet, anyway.

“What are you trying to say, Mira?” We’ve always been able to read between the lines with one
another, communicate though unspoken words and incomplete thoughts the way only sisters can.
She’s putting the pieces together. I’m not going to tell her the full truth, right here, right now, but
I’m not going to lead her astray should she guess it, either.

“I don’t know,” she admits. “I just know I’m missing a very big piece of the puzzle. And I think
you have it.”

“Dain read my memories,” I remind her. Fake as they were. I have to stick to ‘The Story’ right
now, no matter how suspicious Mira is. “He read Imogen’s and Bohdi’s, too. We all remember it
exactly the same.”

I think she’s going to keep going, but instead, she unleashes a deep sigh.

“I don’t know what the fuck is going on,” she says. “But I’m not leaving this place until I figure it
out. Gods knows what else Mom and the rest of leadership are hiding, and I need to know more
about these venin. They aren’t even supposed to be real!”

I debate on telling her how to kill them, but I hold my tongue for now. I’d have to explain how I
know, and that could get tricky. I’ll make sure she doesn’t leave Basgiath without knowing,
however. I can’t let her face them without knowing how to kill them.

“So, I shouldn’t mention the venin?” I clarify, just to see what she will tell me.

“Not yet,” she shakes her head. She sighs again, this time with resignation. “Come on, let’s get
back before Mom decides I’m a danger to myself and you and has me locked up again.” We start
back to the castle and neither of us speak for a couple of minutes. She breaks the silence. “Is it safe
to say you and Dain are no longer friends?”

“Depends on which of us you ask,” I say. “I’d just as soon set fire to the ground he walks on, but if
you ask him, we’re besties.”

“This place changes people,” she muses. “Some for the better.” She gives me a shoulder bump that
makes me smile. “Some for the worst. Dain has always wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps. I
suppose that ambition has made him blind.”

I think about Xaden. He’s following in his father’s footsteps, too. I wonder if he wanted to. Or if he
felt obligated to, given the Riorson family history. If he had a choice, if he hadn’t had to strike a
deal to save a hundred and seven children, would he have chosen this life? Most people wouldn’t
have.

I believe Xaden would have.

I believe, in the depths of my soul, that Xaden is doing exactly what he was meant to do.

“Why is Imogen mad at men?” Mira continues. “Not that a woman generally needs a reason to be.”

“She likes a guy who only sees her as a friend,” I say. “It’s complicated.” And on my agenda of
things to meddle in once I’m back to Aretia. Garrick is a fool if he lets Imogen slip through his
fingers.

Things I thought I’d never say about Imogen, but here we are.

“Why are you mad at men?” I ask.

“Because they’re stupid,” she says darkly, and I wonder who crossed her. I also feel sorry for them.
Mira is not someone you want on the other side of a fight. Which is why I want her on our side
when this thing boils over.

We go our separate ways in the courtyard. I intend to go find Rhiannon or Ridoc and work on a
paper for Battle Brief, but I’m interrupted by Professor Carr.

“Violet, there you are. Your mother would like to see you in her office. Immediately.”

Shit.

I mutter a thanks to Professor Carr and change course. I drop the shield and Xaden is there, like
he’s been prowling the perimeter, waiting for me to decide to peek out my window. Which,
knowing him, he probably has been.

Violet, I’m sorry, he rushes out. He has definitely been waiting for me. Of course I trust you. I
didn’t mean…

Not now. I cut him off, but I’m gentle about it, hope my tone conveys he’s free to grovel later.
First, Mira is suspicious. She knows things aren’t as they seem, she just doesn’t have the full
picture. Second and more importantly, I’ve been summoned to my mother’s office. I thought you
might want to be around for that.

Fuck. What does she want?

You’ll find out when I do.

I bring him into my mind a little more so he can see what I see as I begin my walk down Mom’s
long hallway. The guard is there at the end, watching me with skeptical eyes. I wonder what he
knows, if he’s privy to more than just who comes in and out of her office.

You have your daggers? Xaden confirms.

You know I do.

Good.

Surely I won’t have to fight my way out of her office.

Nothing is off the table, Violence.

He’s not wrong.

The guard opens the door for me without announcing my presence. Mom must be hell bent on
seeing me if he’s been ordered to send me straight in. Most of the time she makes me slunk outside
of her office and wait for upwards of a half hour, just because she can.

“Violet,” she greets. She’s behind her desk, looking every part the general she is. She stuffs the
papers in her hand into a file and places it aside. “Have a seat.”

I want to stand, but I do as she requests.

That’s a Tyrrish dagger on her desk, Xaden observes.

I saw it when we broke in here to steal the map, I counter, then focus on the present. I cannot give
my mother any room for suspicion.

“Carr said you wanted to see me?”

“Professor Carr,” she corrects, “and yes.” She tents her fingers, peers over them. “How are you?”

You have got to be kidding me. How am I? She is absolutely not interested in my well-being.
Never has been, but especially not since she sent me to the Rider’s Quadrant.

Calm, Vi, Xaden warns. You’re still her docile little Violet as far as she’s concerned.

“I’m fine,” I shrug, working to quell the power that crackles below my skin. Xaden is right. She
needs to think I’m still falling in line. “Busy. Being a Squad Leader is demanding.”

“To think everyone thought I was wrong for pushing you into the Rider’s Quadrant,” Lilith
Sorrengail muses. She sounds rather pleased with herself. “And you turn out to be the strongest of
them all with your signet and Tairn and the other one.”

“Andarna,” I say, and the power wants to crackle again. It’s just like my mother to dismiss the
seemingly weaker party. “Her name is Andarna.”

“Anything channeling from her yet?” she asks.

“Nothing yet,” I shake my head. I’m not lying. The ability to stop time is gone. If anything else is
going to manifest, it hasn’t yet.

“We don’t know that it will, of course. No one has ever bonded two dragons before.” She looks me
up and down. “You must be pretty special if both of them decided to bond with you.”

Xaden growls at her tone, picking up on the fact that she’s talking down to me, implying that no
one expected me to be what I am. I don’t know how to reply to that without reminding her even she
thought I’d fail, but she keeps talking so I don’t have to.

“I’m told you’re still spending time with those rebellion kids.”

Xaden bristles in my mind.

I’ll shut you out if you can’t maintain control, I warn him before focusing back on her again. He
huffs, but I feel him calm.

“Bohdi and Imogen are my friends.” I sound innocent. Like a young woman who is focused on
submitting her homework on time and having a social life outside of dragons and classrooms.
“They saved my life, Mom.” I expect her to correct me, tell me to use her title. She doesn’t. I’m
careful. She loves her title, and she’s lured me into a false sense of security by allowing me to refer
to her as a parent before. It’s how I ended up in the Rider’s Quadrant. “And they aren’t kids. They
are adults, ready to go to the front lines.”

“True,” she muses. She picks up her dagger, moves it from hand to hand. “The boy – man – is
rather formidable although unsurprising, given his lineage. Fen Riorson was a lot of awful things,
but one can’t deny that he – and his sister – were impressive. Of course, you’re aware of what his
cousin was.” Xaden is seething on the other end of our bond. I swear I can make out shadows
around the corners of my vision.

Xaden. I use his first name on purpose. He responds to it differently, at least with me. Deep
breaths. I see your shadows. I feel him exhale. He’s not calm, exactly, but it does take the edge
off.

“The girl – woman – is quick, brave,” my mom continues. “She reminds me a lot of her sister. If
they are as loyal as they say, they are assets to Navarre.”

“Their loyalties are sound,” I assure her.

And they are.

To the rebellion.

“Have you spoken to your sister since she was released from medical?” Mom asks.

Medical, she says. Like Mira was hospitalized for wounds suffered in battle and not locked up to
keep her from talking.

“We took a walk,” I say. Time to sell it. “She seems pretty shaken up by whatever happened at
Montserrat.”

“Oh?” She keeps her eyes on the blade. I think she’s trying to unnerve me. It’s not working. I’m far
past being afraid of her. “What did she say?”

I want to tell the truth, just to see what my mother says. Protecting Mira is more important though,
and if Mom thinks Mira told me about the venin, who knows what she might do to make sure that
secret stays a secret.

“She said she must have been hallucinating when she got here,” I lie. “Dragons with two legs?
Breathing blue fire? She told me it must have been the stress of the battle and the frequency that
raids have been happening.”

That’s my girl, Xaden praises. Throw her off Mira’s scent.

That’s my girl? Bold commentary for someone who has groveling on his evening to-do list.

“It’s good to hear she’s coming around,” Mom says. “I was worried.”

“I was, too.” I watch the blade pass from hand to hand. “Are those Tyrrish ruins?” I ask to see what
she will tell me.

“You know they are.” She puts the blade down and brings her eyes back to me. “It’s an artifact
from the rebellion. I like to keep it on my desk as a reminder of how badly things can go wrong.”

She’s warning me, I say to Xaden.

She’s warning you, Xaden says at the same time. I catch myself right before I quirk a smile at how
attune to one another we are.
 “It’s beautiful,” I say to keep up the ruse. It is a beautiful piece of work, so much so I wouldn’t
mind slipping it into my own arsenal. “Do you know what those ruins mean?”

“Haven’t a clue,” she dismisses. She looks down her nose at me and this is not my mother, but
rather General Sorrengail. She can shift personas the way water flows around rocks in a stream. “Is
there anything you’d like to share with me while you have my attention?”

“The lunch menu could use some work,” I quip. “We’ve had turkey sandwiches every other day
for weeks now.”

“Anything else?” she presses.

“A redesign of the female options for a dress uniform?” I propose. She looks annoyed. Good. I
want her to think I’m still just a young, dumb cadet, learning to navigate my way around power and
dragons. “The skirt option is gorgeous, but I disagree that it’s made for movement in battle.”

Serves other purposes quite well though, Xaden says and seriously, bold.

“We will not be changing a uniform that has stood the test of centuries,” she states, exasperated. “If
there’s nothing else, you may go.”

I stand, not sure what the point of this little meeting was aside from issuing what I consider an
empty warning. I’m just about out of the office when she speaks again.

“You are immensely powerful, Violet.” I turn and face her. “Your signet could win wars. Be
mindful of that if and when the time comes for you to choose how to wield it.”

I stand tall, square my shoulders. I look the part of a general’s daughter.

No, Violence, comes Xaden’s voice, you look like a general.

A warm tingle goes down my spine at his compliment.

“I will always wield my power for what is good and right,” I say. “That is the oath of a rider – to do
good. I always will.” I look her dead in the eye. I want her to cement this moment to her deepest
memories. I want her to remember this moment when she realizes I’ve chosen the rebellion, that I
am against everything she stands for. “I swear it.”

Chapter End Notes

We're moving into quite a bit of action. This update was "part one" and the next one -
which *may* come a little sooner than Monday's usual update ;) - will pick up right
where we left off, but form Xaden's POV. He might do a bit of groveling, too...

So now we have a highly suspicious Mira who is well aware that there is
SOMETHING going on and a mother who is poking around, too... What could go
wrong at a death college?
Also, a moment for Imogen and Violet and their "I hate men" bonding?

Thank you so so so much for reading and commenting. I love seeing your comments
pop up in my inbox and getting DMs from you on social media. Y'all are the best!
 Chapter 14
Chapter Notes

Surprise! An update in the middle of the usual Monday/Friday schedule! Like I

mentioned last update, this is really part two of it. It's also a doozy, so grab a snack and
your favorite beverage before you settle in to read!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

My heart pounds in my chest. I’m not sure if it’s my heart in the present or if it’s Violet’s heart I
feel as she marches down the long hallway away from her mother’s office, head held high,
determination coursing through her. It’s probably both. She hasn’t shut me out of this whole
sharing what she’s doing thing even though she’s left her mother’s office, and I’m not going
anywhere until she does.

You’re fucking incredible, Violence, I say.

I’m proud of her. She held her ground against her mother. Didn’t bend, didn’t break. Brennan,
Garrick, they call her my second in command, are fully prepared to answer to her when she’s back
in Aretia and in her rightful place. I disagree with them. She’s not my second. She’s my equal.
Hell, I answer to her, as far as I’m concerned, and not just on a personal level. Violet Sorrengail is
formidable, and I think her mother is starting to figure that out.

Which is one more reason I need to get her out of Basgiath.

For not telling my mother exactly what I think of her?

Among other things. She’s going down the staircase that will take her back to the Rider’s Quadrant
now. You know you’re still sharing your view with me, right?

I figured it might be helpful for you to get the lay of the land. In case we need it down the road.

You think I’ve never been to that part of Basgiath before? I ask her. I spent a lot of time being
summoned to leadership offices my first year, Violence. Particularly your mothers. I pause for a
beat. No one trusts a traitor’s son.

The scene fades away, but Violet is still there. Thank gods. I’ve been distracted today, trying to get
her to talk to me, give me a chance to apologize for my outburst earlier. I don’t want to go back to
the whole ‘passing information and only passing information’ thing. I don’t want my lashing out in
a moment of feeling helpless to be the reason she and I go back to square one.

Being the commanding general of a revolution is infinitely easier than navigating a relationship.
I’ll swear it to anyone who asks.

I don’t not trust you, Riorson, she ventures.

It’s just her heart she’s afraid to hand over.

I stand from my desk and start to pace. I expect to see a path worn into the stone under my feet any
day now for as much pacing as I’ve done lately.
Fuck it.

I’m going to say something irresponsible of a commanding general. Table everything about your
mother and whatever happened with Mira for now. I need this to be personal, Violet. I need, for a
few minutes, for this conversation to be me and you and not whatever war personas we are.

I wait. She’s still there. I can practically hear her mulling over her options.

Am I going to end up in tears? she asks. If so, I need to go somewhere more private.

I cringe.

I made a vow when you woke up that your eyes would never reflect hurt inflicted by me again. I
intend to keep it.

I made a lot of promises in that room, both while she was unconscious and afterward. I will keep
every single one of them.

Okay, she agrees. Her voice sounds small, uncertain, and I hate it. My brave, bold girl can face
down her mother, infiltrate the scribes, and bring venin down from the sky with her lightning, but
she’s guarding her heart so tightly against me that the idea of a conversation makes her cower.

That’s fine.

I’m great at getting into things people try to keep me out of.

I was out of line earlier.

I’ve been working on this speech all fucking afternoon and into the evening, once everyone was
back in Aretia and I confirmed there were no immediate threats. And dammit, Violet is going to
hear it. Tiptoeing around our issues is exhausting and I’m done.

I didn’t mean to imply that I don’t trust you, because you, Violet, are the person I trust the most in
this fucked up world. You. Not Bohdi, not Garrick, not even your fucking brother who is apparently
my best friend now. You.

I hate being stuck on the ground, in this fortress, every damn day. I hate that you are so far away,
that if something were to happen to you, I wouldn’t be there to help you. I hate the idea of you
getting so much as a scratch while sparring and not being there to smooth a bandage over it. It’s
hard for me and it scares me that I care so much about you and your well-being that I foolishly
sent my dragon with you when you left.

Because I’ll admit it, Violet. Sending Sgaeyl with you was stupid.

Look who’s coming around, comes Sgaeyl’s voice.

Dragons, out, I order. This is between Violet and I. All of you – go. Shields up.

You have a lot of nerve… Tairn’s rant is cut off by whatever Sgaeyl has done to give Violet and I
privacy. I can only hope Andarna isn’t eavesdropping, too.

Sending my dragon with you was stupid, I repeat. We are testing the very laws of dragon nature by
me being so far from her. The logical thing would have been for us to figure it out. For me to keep
Sgaeyl with me and find a way for those two to see each other. But you insisted on going and you
insisted on not talking to me, so I figured I’d give you what you wanted – space. Even though it is
absolutely eating me up inside that you are an eighteen hour flight from me.

Xaden…

She tries to interrupt, but I’m good and fired up now and not even she can stop me from saying my
piece.

I was so desperate to give you whatever you wanted, do whatever you wanted that would make you
happy or at least comfortable after everything I’d put you through, that I made a decision in the
heat of the moment. I should have kept her here, and I should have relied on the fact that if those
two had to see each other every few days, then I’d at least get to see you, too, even if you refused to
speak to me. Because I fucking miss you, Violet. It was excruciating to have you here in Aretia and
yet have you so far away from me. This whole distance thing where I have no idea where I stand
with you? I can’t take it much longer.

All that to say, I was out of line today. I sent Sgaeyl with you because if I couldn’t be there, at least
she could. At least I had some way of making sure that you were okay, because for a while, you
weren’t willing to talk to me and if I was going to slot into my role as commanding general, I
selfishly needed the peace of mind in knowing that you are okay. Yes, I was an asshole today. I was
afraid, Violet. Afraid that Brennan was going to be discovered, afraid that Aretia was about to be
attacked, afraid that we were going to be found out before we’re good and ready. I was afraid that
I was going to be a sitting duck on the ground if and when something happened.

And I hate being afraid, Violet. It makes me feel weak. It makes me crazy. It makes me say and do
crazy, reckless things. Like keep secrets and withhold information and imply that I don’t trust the
only person that has ever forced their way past my defenses and settled herself permanently in my
heart.

The thing that scares me the most? Losing you. The small, miniscule part of my brain that can still
access logic when it comes to you knows I can’t save you from every threat or bandage up your
every cut. The rest of me will do anything – anything – to make sure you’re okay. Even send my
dragon with you.

I stop, take a breath. I can’t even remember what all I’ve said, but there were things I needed to
say, and things she needed to hear.

Just not how I truly feel about her.

I will not tell her I love her over a mental bond.

I’m sorry, I finish. I fucked up today. I fuck up a lot, Violet. It’s just who I am. But I’m always
going to apologize, to you, at least. And I will always try to do better. So that’s what I’m doing. I’m
apologizing and I’m trying to do better. I don’t know if I’m any good at it, but this is the best I’ve
got.

She’s silent for so long that I start to think my mind is playing tricks on me and she’s not actually
there, that I want her to be there – be here – so badly I’ve imagined it. I’m contemplating
whispering her name down the bond to check when she finally speaks.

That was a lot, she says in a quiet voice.

I know, I sigh. It’s been building for a while.

When I found out about all of this, I was just mad, she tells me. Mad that you hid so much from me,
mad that my brother was alive, and you didn’t tell me, mad that he let me think he was dead for so
long, mad that Navarre is letting innocent people be hurt or worse by the venin. Just – mad. At
everything. Now that I’ve had some time – and now that I’ve had to make some of the choices you
had to make – I’ve figured out I’m not mad about the lies and omissions. Except with Brennan. I’m
still pretty pissed at him, but it’s also really hard to be pissed at the brother you thought was dead.

I smile a bit at that.

Brennan’s easy to get pissed off at, I say.

It’s that you held so much back from me, Xaden. My first name. You even knew my birthday
without my telling you, and yet I had to force information out of you. I asked you what your favorite
food was, and you told me to stop being weird.

I was wrestling with the fact that I was falling for you, I tell her. I was absolutely not supposed to
fall for anyone, let alone you. Telling you my favorite food is chocolate cake was, at the time,
equivalent to ripping my heart out of my chest and giving it to you. Which I’ve done, by the way.
You hold my heart in the palm of your hand with my full permission to do whatever you want with
it.

I want to keep it safe.

I think I stop breathing.

Violet wants to keep my heart safe. I finally stop pacing, but only because I’m so blindsided by the
revelation that she still cares about my heart that I’m knocked off my feet. I fall into one of the
armchairs in my office with a heavy huff of disbelief. The good kind, though. The kind that makes
you think maybe there is something good out there after all.

I want the same, I tell her. I want the chance to keep both you and your heart safe again.

I thought you weren’t giving my heart back.

Wait. Is she – teasing – me?

I didn’t, I inform her with a smile. I’ve just been waiting for you to realize I still have it.

We still have a lot to talk about, she reminds me.

I know, I sigh. And we will. I purse my lips. I guess this means we’re still not…

Not yet, she confirms. I feel a punch in the gut, but then stupid hope fills in right behind it because
she said ‘not yet.’ Implying we will be together. I think we’re getting there, though.

Come back to me, I say because why the hell not at this point.

I’ll be there soon, she promises. I’ll bring the dragon. She’s been a pain in my ass.

I laugh. A real, genuine laugh that only Violet could get out of me.

At least she’s not threatening to roast you every other day.

If Tairn did that, he’d have to face Sgaeyl. My money is on her. A pause. I’d be pretty unhappy
about it, too.

I’ll stay on his good side, I promise. I exhale a breath. Shall we talk war now?
I listen as she describes what happened with Mira. The fact that Mira knows about the venin and
reacted the way she did bodes well for her joining our side once she’s fully in the know.

Feel up to sneaking out of Basgiath? I ask Violet once we’ve exhausted our conversation about
Mira and gone over her conversation with her mother with a fine-tooth comb.

For? she inquires.

I think we need a meeting. You, Bohdi, Imogen, I’ll have Garrick and Brennan on my side. You and
I can interpret.

She agrees and we determine a time. I’m left to waste a few hours, so I make myself look at
budgets which I hate – might turn that over to Violet, come to think of it, she’ll be better at it
anyway, probably faster, too – then head to the gym to blow off some steam in the form of the
heaviest weights I can throw around. I’m back in my office, showered and dressed in freshly
laundered leathers, when there is a knock on my door. Garrick pushes it open before I can call out
an ‘enter.’

“You missed dinner,” he greets. He puts a plate with two sandwiches, a heap of fried potatoes, and
two cookies on my desk. “Ms. Jade sent this and said to eat.”

I let him blame Ms. Jade. She might have made the plate, but Garrick is the one who went looking
for food for me. He’s done that since we reunited at Basgiath – looked out for me in subtle ways
like bringing me a sandwich or an apple when I’ve been too busy to eat or coffee when I haven’t
slept. The times I appreciate the most though are when he just shows up. He’ll walk in, sit down,
and not say a word past maybe a quick ‘you good?’ I’ll talk or I won’t, but he never pushes. He just
sits there, ready to listen should I need an ear.

“Thanks.” I pick up a sandwich – turkey, bacon, cheese, mayo, mustard, lettuce, no tomato because
I hate them – and take a big bite. Turns out, I was starving. Ms. Jade probably knew that. I
probably have sandwiches because her meatloaf was demolished by the heathens living in this
fortress, too. “Brennan tell you we’re meeting Violet and the others in an hour or so?”

“Sounds like Violet has had quite the day,” he nods.

“You have no idea,” I reply. I’ve calmed down considerably since my monologue and apology, but
I’m still wound up. I’ve been wound tight since Violet left Aretia. Some of it is the distance
between me and Sgaeyl. Most of it is the need to have her in my space again. It’s like I can’t
operate at one hundred percent without Violet in close proximity. Co-dependent, party of – me.

“Threshing is in two days,” Garrick hedges. And that is how he checks on me. Not outright, not
direct. A roundabout way that he knows I’ll pick up on.

“I’ve thought about asking Bohdi to stay,” I admit. Garrick raises an eyebrow. “Violet can’t…”

“Violet can’t?” he interjects. “Or you don’t want her to?”

“Both,” I admit. “All the above. I’ve made it no secret that personally speaking, I want her here,
with me. Never mind that I want my dragon back. Take the personal element out of it though, and
she just can’t stay, Garrick. Her mom threatened her today, basically told her ‘pick a side and make
sure it’s the right one.’ We both know she means Navarre’s side. If they have even the slightest
hint that Violet is a so-called traitor, they will execute her, no questions asked. She’s not safe at
Navarre. She’s smarter than all of us, too. She’ll see threads we’re missing in battle planning. I’d
put good money on her being a better diplomat than all of us combined.”
“What’s the benefit of having Bohdi stay?” he continues.

“He looks out for the others.” I’m torn down the middle on what to do about Bohdi. I want him
here. I need him here. Like Violet, I have personal reasons for wanting eyes on my cousin, but
there is also the fact that he’s an asset to this building war. However, pulling him out of Basgiath
does open the rest of the marked ones up to greater threats. I just don’t know what the right answer
is. I look to Garrick. “What would you do?”

“You’re asking?” he clarifies.

“I am,” I nod. I need guidance and he’ll give it to me.

“I’d get them all out,” he says without pretense. “Every last marked one, and Violet, too.”

Exactly what I want to do.

And exactly what we can’t do.

“We can’t evacuate the entirety of the marked ones from the school,” I remind him. “Not all of
them are in this, for one thing, but we get them all out, and we raise up every flag we have that
says ‘we’re at it again.’”

“How many marked ones are at Basgiath?” Garrick questions. “I’ve lost track now that I’m not
there every day.”

“Twenty-three,” I say. “We’ve lost eight over the last three years. You and I and four others are
here. There are still seventy left to face conscription the way it stands today.”

Neither of us say it, but there is a pulsating hope below the surface that we can save the rest of
them from conscription, that we can free them, allow them to make their own path forward. They
can be a rider if they want to be a rider, not because they have no other choice.

“I think we need Bohdi here,” he finally decides. “Whenever they do leave Basgiath, be it after
Threshing or two months from now or whatever, it won’t be long before the wheels come off and
we have to move into the open. He’s a strong leader. While I see the benefits of having him there,
he needs to be here. We need to be able to dispatch him with a unit.”

Garrick is right and that’s why I asked for his opinion. I know Bohdi needs to be here, but I’ll
never shake my need to protect the others, even if I’m not there. I’m having to come to terms with
the fact that I may not be able to do that.

“What about Imogen?” I ask. He can make of that question what he will.

“She needs to stay,” he says reluctantly. “I’ve been thinking about it. She’s a leader in her own
right, but with Bohdi and Sorrengail here, we need someone at Basgiath, and I think it needs to be
her. Her signet is too valuable.” He looks me in the eye. “You’re telling her though. I refuse to do
it, and I don’t think you should make Violet do it, either.”

“I’ll tell her,” I nod. It will be an order, which won’t go over well, but she’ll do it, because she
knows she has to. “You know, you two should really work out your shit.”

He eyes me.

“Pot calling the kettle black, Riorson.”

“Violet and I had – we’ll call it a discussion – earlier. Progress was made.”

“You pissed her off today, didn’t you?” he guesses.

“Thoroughly,” I admit. “We worked it out.” I polish off one sandwich and start on the other.
“Relationships are fucking hard.”

He doesn’t comment on that, and I suspect it has to do with not wanting to be called out about
Imogen again. I don’t push it. I’ve been on a rollercoaster of emotions today and I’m about to go
through another round of them with this meeting so I’ll take the reprieve where I can get it.
“Thanks for the food.”

“Had you eaten since breakfast?” he counters. Gods, was made-by-me breakfast really just this
morning? I’ve lived three days since then.

“I had an apple I think.” I really can’t remember if I did or didn’t. I know I’ve had plenty of coffee,
though. “And some biscotti. Ms. Jade brought it to my office with a fresh coffee carafe.”

“I reckon Brennan is right,” Garrick muses. “Your stomach is corroded with acid.”

“Again, good thing I know a meander.”

Brennan joins us a few minutes later and we do what we hardly ever get to do these days and just
hang out while we wait for Violet and the others. Ms. Jade shows up with a tray of sweets and
more coffee, and those two pounce on the cookies like hyenas. I pour a cup of coffee much to Ms.
Jade’s disapproval even though she brought it to me and help myself to a brownie even though I
just shoveled down an entire plate of food.

Ready? comes Violet’s voice.

I sit up straighter.

“Violet’s here,” I announce. Brennan and Garrick look at me expectantly. Violet lets me further
into her mind and I’m surprised they aren’t in the forest. They are in a far corner of the flight field,
all of their dragons nearby. “So are Bohdi and Imogen. Their dragons, too.”

Why the dragons?

Tairn insisted.

Something is afoot, he states. I can feel it.

Who would I be to argue with him?

You’re in the clear?

Bohdi says we’re alone.

“Tairn insisted on the dragons,” I tell Garrick and Brennan. “He says something is off.”

“Dragons feel things we can’t,” Brennan nods.

“This is the second weirdest meeting I’ve ever been a part of,” Garrick comments as he watches
me have a conversation in my head.

“Second weirdest?” Brennan asks.

“The one where you walked in not dead and on our side trumps this,” Garrick tells him. “Not by
much. This meeting might surpass it, though. Stay tuned.”

“Violet said you're both idiots,” I tell them.

I didn’t say that, she snaps.

They don’t know that. I can feel her roll her eyes and I grin despite the serious nature of our
meeting. You’ve brought Bohdi and Imogen up to speed?

I have. You’ve done the same?

I have. Now, it’s what happens next.

Got any ideas?

I do, but I want her ideas.

What are you thinking? I counter.

Honestly? Get through Threshing. Once my squad is bonded, I can breathe easier. In a manner of
speaking. Also, why do you get to see what I’m seeing? Why can’t I see your view for a change?

I know what she’s asking. She wants to lay eyes on her brother.

Drop the sharing, I direct. She does. A moment later – we’re getting good at this – I’m sharing my
view with her.

They look bored, she comments.

They’re waiting for me to tell them something useful.

Tell Garrick to get off his ass and ask Imogen out. Tell my brother to go suck an egg and I’m glad
he’s not dead.

I’m not telling them either of those things.

“You know this whole meeting thing only works if you’re telling us what’s going on, right?”
Garrick asks. “Otherwise, I could be in bed. Some of us do sleep, you know.”

He has a point, I say to Violet.

“We’re discussing what’s next,” I tell them. “At least we are now. Violet had a couple of choice
phrases for you two which I’m too much of a gentleman to repeat.”

Garrick snorts at the idea of me being a gentleman.

“Tell Vi-Vi she can go suck an egg,” Brennan retorts. ‘Suck an egg’ must be a Sorrengail thing.

Hear that? I ask her.

I did, and if you ever call me that, you’re going to get a knee to an appendage I know you happen
to like. I bite my tongue to keep from reminding her how much she likes that appendage. I would
not be helping my cause. Focus. What’s next?

Another small grin works its way out. Violet is bossy tonight, and I like it.
Get through Threshing, and then the next immediate thing is getting you and Bohdi back to
Basgiath. Bohdi has the luxury of just disappearing. No one is going to look for him. You do not
have the same sorted past.

Yet, she quips, and I snort. Also, I’ve been thinking about this. Imogen is not staying here.

Violet, we need…

I get why you want her here, but it’s not happening, she informs me and fuck, her standing up to
me is right up there with her throwing daggers on the ‘hotter than it should be’ scale. They will
immediately assume I’m with Bohdi. They will also immediately question Imogen, and they will be
watching her every move. It’s not safe for her here without us. It’s not a discussion item, Riorson.
She goes when we go.

Okay.

Okay? she questions.

Okay, I repeat. You have authority here, Violet. If you want her to come back with you, then she
comes back with you.

I need her to not only know that but understand that. She has a say, and her opinion is valued. If she
thinks Imogen needs to come back, Imogen will come back.

“Garrick has a point,” Brennan says. “This doesn’t work if you and Violet are just chatting away in
each other’s heads. I could be at Angelique’s.”

Who is Angelique? Violet asks.

Brennan’s girlfriend.

He has a girlfriend? she squawks.

I’ll tell you later, I promise.

“Imogen will be returning with Bohdi and Violet.” I look at Garrick when I share that update. He
does a shit job of covering up his relief. “Violet’s orders.”

“My baby sister is ordering people around.” Brennan shakes his head. “Gods, this is weird.”

“Your baby sister can and wants to light you on fire for not telling her you weren’t dead and for
finding out you have a girlfriend you didn’t tell her about,” I tell him. “I’d tread carefully around
her.”

“How does she know…” He narrows his eyes at me. I shrug.

“I’m out of the lying and omissions game where she’s concerned.” He rolls his eyes. Garrick
chuckles. We’re a little unfocused right now, but I’m letting it fly. We need some levity, and this is
the first time they’ve had any sort of connection to Basgiath – to their best friend, to the girl they
pretend they don’t have feelings for, to their little sister – other than the occasional letter. “Are we
prepared for the upheaval that will come when they leave Basgiath?” I’m asking the whole group.

Bohdi says we should leave under the cover of night, Violet says. He recommends that we just
leave. Disappear in the wee hours of the morning.

I relay the idea to Garrick and Brennan.

“It’s the best one we have,” Brennan muses. “They can get a good head start. Their dragons are
strong. They can fly hard until sunrise, then lay low until they can move under nightfall again. It
might add a day or so to their journey, but it would keep them off the radar for a while.”

“They aren’t going to let Violet just fly away,” Garrick reminds us. “They will be looking for her.”

“It would be safer if we had a third,” I say, thinking out loud.

Melgren wouldn’t be able to find us, Violet realizes.

Exactly. I don’t know who I’d trust enough though…

Sloane, she says automatically.

She’s a first year, Violence…

We both know I’m not leaving her.

Let’s see how Threshing goes, I say, buying time to commit to something I know I’m going to
commit to, not just because Violet has informed me this is the way it’s going to be, but because
Sloane is Liam’s sister, which means she’s now my responsibility.

A wave of grief at the thought of Liam bowls over me. Just like grief over my dad, it hits me at
unexpected moments. I think of his final words, what he asked of me. It’s damn near my undoing,
but I push it away, promise him, just in case he’s listening, that I’ll follow through, and give my
full attention back to Violet.

Fine.

I wouldn’t say she’s agreeing because it’s a done deal, but she knows the truth of it – there is a
chance Sloane won’t bond with a dragon.

As for the scribes, I start.

We need to know what Chester knows and what he’s hiding, Violet finishes.

We dissolve into a debate over what to do with Chester and how to continue our quest to find out
what, exactly, the scribes have covered up. It’s a cacophony of noise as Violet and I try our best to
keep our respective parties in the loop while also feeding thoughts and ideas from our sides back
and forth to one another.

Wait.

A silence falls on Violet’s side as that brilliant mind of hers starts to put things together that would
take the rest of us ages to connect. Garrick and Brennan are both talking. I have no idea what
they’re saying, but I hold up a hand to silence them.

Liam’s dad. Isaac Mairi. Was he a scribe?

He was….

He’s not on the death rolls, Violet rushes out. He was killed at home, the same day as General
Mairi was executed. He was killed by my mother’s army.

Holy shit.
I knew he was killed at home. I didn’t know his death wasn’t recorded.

They killed scribes to keep them quiet, I realize. Chester – he’s likely the one who told who was
giving information. I’d bet he brokered a deal of his own.

Navarre literally killed scribes to silence them, Violet says. My dad… I wonder… But it was years
later… And his heart really was weak…

I can’t bring myself to share Brennan’s theory on their father’s death with her. That’s something
that needs to come from him. Instead, I relay what she’s saying to Garrick and Brennan and watch
as they react the same way I did, the same way I imagine Bohdi and Imogen are.

You’re going to hate it, but I have to sneak into the Scribes Quadrant and try to talk to him.

No, I say. Absolutely not, Violet.

Give me one good reason…

I have several, I cut her off. Starting with the fact that I can guarantee his quarters are monitored.
You’re not even able to access the heart of the Archives as a rider, so how would you explain
getting down there if you did manage it? You get caught, Violet, and I wouldn’t put it past them to
execute you on the spot.

Her growl says she knows I’m right.

Garrick and Brennan reach the same conclusion on my side of the conversation. I don’t know
what’s going on on Violet’s side because she’s not interpreting it for me and I’m still sharing my
point of view through our bond.

Violence?

Bohdi agrees with you. Imogen is with me. We need to know more.

Garrick and Brennan agree with me. Majority wins. You’re not sneaking down there. She curses
and I feel like she’s going to do it anyway, so I rush ahead. Having said that, I suggested just this
morning that we try to kidnap Chester.

You just said…

She’s getting worked up again.

I stand by that, I cut her off once more. However, that doesn’t mean we can’t come up with a
better plan than bursting into the highly secured archives and trying to talk to someone who clearly
doesn’t want to be talked to.

There’s silence. I pick up on the sudden heightened tension and frown.

Violence?

Brennan notices.

“Everything okay?”

“I don’t think so,” I shake my head, worry growing. “She went quiet, but the bond is full of
tension.”
“You can feel her?” Garrick clarifies. I nod, listening.

Violet!

There’s a situation, Sgaeyl says. She’s okay. They all are.

My stomach clenches.

What do you mean, there’s a situation? What’s happening?

She doesn’t answer me.

Tairn! What’s going on?

Nothing.

I start pacing.

“Riorson?” Brennan’s worry is evident in his tone.

“Sgaeyl says there’s a situation, but that they’re fine. That’s all I know. Violet and Tairn aren’t
responding.”

“Wait, you can talk to Tairn, too?” Garrick asks. “This is…” He shakes his head in bewilderment. I
ignore him. I have no time for his amusement at my party trick.

Dammit, Violet! Answer me!

Switch with me.

What the hell is going on? I demand again. I just told you earlier that I hate it when…

Switch with me!

I know what she means. I drop the connected vision and almost immediately, I’m seeing her’s. I
blink my eyes, trying to adjust to the sudden shift from the lamp light in my office to the dark night
of the flight field.

Then I see him.

“Fuck.”

“What?” Brennan and Garrick bellow together.

“Marcum Cole is there,” I report. “He’s losing his shit. Shut up for a minute, let me concentrate.”

I tap into the scene fully. Marcum – still infinitely tall, still rake thin – looks like a wild animal as
he perhaps stupidly stands between the dragons and the humans.

“I knew it!” he screams. “I knew you were up to something!” His wild eyes dart around like he’s
unsure of where to look. Logic tells me I don’t need to be worried. It’s three against one, and there
are five dragons ready and willing to scorch him with one false move. The rest of me is freaking
the fuck out. All I can do is watch.

Sgaeyl.

She’s fine. They all are.

Don’t let…

Nothing is going to happen to her, boy.

I scoff at Tairn calling me boy, but that’s a later problem.

“You’re traitors! All three of you!”

“Marcum, it’s not what you think,” Violet tries. She takes a step towards him.

Stay put, Violence.

She ignores me and takes another step.

Sorrengails never fucking listen.

“Stay back!” he cries out. “I heard you! You’re planning to kidnap my father!”

“Your father may have some very important information.” Violet takes still another step towards
him, and I let a string of curse words fly.

Calm down or I’m kicking you out.

You know I don’t like feeling helpless.

I can wield lightning and Tairn is right there. So are Andarna and Sgaeyl and Bohdi and Imogen’s
dragons. I’m fine, Xaden.

I clench my jaw, but her calling me by my first name does simmer the flames a little.

“He’s still alive, isn’t he?” Marcum takes a couple of steps backwards. “Riorson. He’s still alive.”

“Marcum, I need you to calm down,” Violet tries. “There is a significant threat to Navarre.
Something tells me you already know that.”

“The venin aren’t a threat to us,” he insists. Fucking fool. “The wards keep us safe!” His wild eyes
flash around the space again. He’s breathing hard, reminds me of a caged animal about to make a
last ditch effort for freedom.

Step back, girl, Sgaeyl warns Violet.

Violet ignores her and takes another fucking step forward.

Violet! I snap. Listen to Sgaeyl!

“Innocent people are dying.” How the fuck is she so calm? “It’s not right, Marcum, to do nothing
when we can help. And the venin are a threat. The wards falter a little more every day. We’ll only
be able to repair them so many times before they fail all together. I’ve seen the venin in action.
They will destroy anything in their path to get what they want.” She considers him with so much
compassion I feel bad for the guy. “What happened, Marcum? Why were you fostered instead of
allowed to remain with your father?”

“He did the right thing,” he says. “My traitor mother got what she deserved. All of them did!” I
watch Bohdi step forward. His hand is on his dagger, ready at a moment’s notice. Whether to
protect Violet or repay Marcum for his insult against our parents, I’m unclear. I prefer he protects
Violet, but I support either effort. “He made a deal that I’d be spared in exchange for his devotion
to Navarre. Then fucking Riorson went and ruined it all!”

That’s why his relic is small, I realize. His father was unwaveringly loyal.

“Xaden saved the lives of a hundred and seven innocent children,” she says and I feel weird inside
that she thinks that about me, the guy who can’t seem to not mess things up between us. “You
included. I’m sorry this happened to you…”

“Your mother killed mine!”

He lunges for Violet. Instinct has me reach for my own dagger even though I can’t help her. Bohdi
is at her side, Imogen right behind him, in an instant, but Violet doesn’t need them. She uses her
lightning to shock Marcum, sends him stumbling backwards several steps. She looks unfazed,
powerful, in command.

Gods, I love her.

“There’s no need for that,” she says. “We’re not the bad guys here, Marcum. Neither is Riorson.
We’re trying to do the right thing. You could help us. You could join us.”

“I would never – ever – side with the likes of you and him,” he snarls.

She needs to move, Sgaeyl warns. Tairn isn’t going to hold back much longer.

Violet, step back, I try in vain.

“Let’s talk…”

I see the moment Marcum makes his decision.

“I’m turning you in,” he declares. “All of you! And Riorson too!”

He runs and I know what’s about to happen.

“No!” I cry out as Tairn opens his large jaw.

“Tairn, no!” Violet screams and takes off after Marcum.

Everything happens at once.

Sgaeyl whips her tail around to block Violet’s path. Violet is slammed back by the force of it and
rolls several feet. Tairn’s fire travels across the field and in moments, there is nothing but ash left in
Marcum’s place.

Violet! Violet, are you okay?

She’s fine, Sgaeyl says. No sense of self-preservation, but fine.

She’s not fine.

She’s livid, and if I had to guess, there are at least some bruised ribs, if not broken ones, based
purely on the way she staggers to her feat.

“Tairn!”

It had to be done, Silver One. He was never going to flip sides. He was a threat that had to be dealt
with.

You didn’t have to kill him!

She’s near tears and I’m not sure if it’s Marcum or her ribs.

He did, Sgaeyl says. And if he hadn’t, I would have.

Violet doesn’t fight back. There’s nothing she can do anyway.

Do you need a healer? I ask Violet.

No. I think I’m just bruised.

Are you sure? I press. I’m not there, Violence. I can’t check…

Xaden, I’m fine.

She uses my first name, and her voice is gentle, soothing. I try to subdue the panic, but it’s trying to
build. She’s hurt and I’m not there. I don’t care if it’s a relatively minor injury. This is exactly what
I was afraid of. Her being hurt. And I’m not there.

Sgaeyl hit you with force. You rolled at least ten feet…

Technically I ran into Sgaeyl, she corrects, and I roll my eyes. I’m going to be bruised, but I’m fine.
I promise.

She’s fine, Sgaeyl echoes, just to me.

Tairn could have killed her.

He would do no such thing. He knew I had her. She pauses. We’re bonded, too, you know.

I frown, try to work out what she means. Brennan demands to know what’s going on, but I ignore
him for the moment.

I know you and Tairn are bonded…

The density of humans never ceases to amaze me.

I don’t know what the hell she means, but I can’t bring myself to care right now. Violet is my only
focus.

Talk to me, Violence. What do you need?

Not that I can actually do anything for her, but I’ll also try my damndest.

I’ll wrap my ribs when I get back to my room, she says. But the scribes…

They are a problem for another day, I decide. It’s late, and you’ve been at it all damn day. Get
back to your quarters, take care of your ribs, try to get some sleep. We’ll try to work out another
plan tomorrow. Maybe pack a bag, too, in case you need to make a quick exit. Tell the others to do
the same.

She agrees and it’s a fucking miracle.

“Come on,” I hear Bohdi say through the vision she’s still somehow sharing with me despite
everything. He puts a brotherly hand on her mid-back. “Let’s get back so you take care of whatever
is hurt or maybe broken. Xaden will kill me if I let you stay out here much longer.”

I might have to promote him.

Wait.

His signet didn’t work.

Violet’s soft gasp of surprise fills my head. Brennan demands to know if Violet is okay, and I hold
up a hand to silence him.

Either it didn’t work, or he was shielding, I continue. Ask him if he was shielding.

If he was, I might actually kill him, so much for that promotion from fifteen seconds ago.

“Bohdi, were you shielding when Marcum showed up?” I both hear and see her ask him.

He stops, looks at her, surprise registering in his own features. I know him as well as I know
myself. He absolutely was not shielding. His signet just didn’t work.

“No,” he shakes his head. “I would never shield when we’re in a situation like this. Anyone could
have come…” His mind is racing. “I didn’t hear him. Marcum. But just him. I heard everything
else. Every animal moving in the woods, every snap of a twig, right down to our own heartbeats. I
just didn’t hear Marcum.”

His relic, Violet and I say at the same time. It has to be connected to Marcum’s relic or whatever
deal Chester made. Yet Violet’s lightning worked on him.

The hell.

It’s all connected, I say. The rewriting history, the apparent under the radar murder of scribes to
protect their secrets, whatever deal Chester made, Marcum’s protection. It’s all connected.

The lengths they’re going through to keep the venin under wraps is astonishing, Violet says.

Desperate people do desperate things, I say. You’re breathing like crap. Let Bohdi help you back to
your quarters, and then take care of yourself. Please.

She agrees and after a few more rounds of assurance that she’s okay, I give up access to her and
I’m fully back in my own head. Garrick looks expectant, Brennan looks one beat away from
ripping my head off if I don’t give an update on his sister soon.

“They’re fine,” I report. “Marcum is dead.” I relay what happened and we uselessly debate on what
to do next. It’s well into the wee morning hours and we’re all exhausted. I do the responsible thing
and pull the plug on today, directing them to get some sleep even though I know there is next to no
chance that I’ll sleep. I’ll fret over Violet and try to find a way to get to Chester while I stare at the
ceiling.

I check in with Violet one more time before I give up and slip into bed. She swears she’s fine, tells
me she’s used to it, and I can’t express how much I hate that. I know it’s her normal, that she’s
used to brittle bones and joints that decide to slip out of socket or tear just because it’s Tuesday or
raining or whatever, as she casually puts it. I know that she’s used to living in a certain amount of
pain. That doesn’t mean that I can’t hate the situation or want to do something to make it better.
I’m careful in how I approach it though. Violet has spent her whole life being coddled and told
 she’s weak, fragile. She is neither of those things and I won’t treat her as such. I will not be another
person in her life that tries to hold her back.

Thank you, I say to Sgaeyl.

I know what she means to you, she says in response. I know what she means to Tairn.

Get her back to me safely, I ask in a raw moment.

You know we will.

Chapter End Notes

WHEW. A lot happened. Xaden apologized. Violet forgave him. They met. They put
together a few more puzzle pieces. Marcum figured them out. Tairn scorched him
which won't have any ramifications at all...

Up next? Threshing.

That's all I'll say about that.

Thank you a million times over for reading! I appreciate you and your comments so
very much. ❤️
 Chapter 15
Chapter Notes

May I recommend settling in with your favorite beverage, maybe a blanket and some
fuzzy socks? It's a lengthy one - and I ~think~ you will enjoy the end...

See the end of the chapter for more notes

It’s Threshing.

I’m nervous.

So much hinges on today.

I need Sloane to bond. I want my entire squad to bond, but I have realized as long as Sloane bonds,
I’ll be okay with the outcome. I have to be. There is a very good chance I’m leaving Basgiath
within the next few days. I’m bringing her with me. I just need her to have a dragon.

Yesterday was spent managing situations.

Marcum has not been declared dead. No one saw anything. Those of us who did absolutely are not
talking and Imogen did just enough mind voodoo to protect our memories if inquiring hands decide
to cop a feel. I reported him as missing and that’s the story we’re going with.

Marcum Cole is missing.

The rumors that he went AWOL are rampant and I’m fueling them. It’s not a far stretch to believe
that Marcum would skip out before Threshing. The likelihood that he would bond with a dragon is
slim to none, but I suppose they said that about me, too, and now I have two, both of which are
waiting with varying degrees of patience to ‘get this production over with’ as Tairn put it.

Infiltrating the Scribes Quadrant to get to Chester is, at least for now, a dead end. In the heat of the
moment, I was ready to go in, daggers out, and see what I could find out. Xaden is right though.
The Archives is deeply warded and protected and we’re not going to just walk in. We are definitely
not going to get to Chester without setting off alarms. The scribes seem to be the key to everything,
though, and it’s frustrating that we can’t crack the code.

Mira is still prowling around. She’s well-aware that something is going on and she’s spent a lot of
time trying to weasel into rooms she’s promptly kicked out of. Her and Mom had quite the
showdown last night from what I’m told, with her demanding answers and Mom threatening to
arrest her. General Melgren himself had to step in, so goes the rumor. I haven’t seen Mira this
morning to confirm. I can only hope Mom didn’t throw her in a cell.

And of course, Xaden has drove me right up to insane. I have tried to keep the shield down since
the flight field. His eruption of feelings on how hard it is for him to be in Aretia while I’m here hit
its mark and naturally, the fates dictated I get hurt right in front of him while he can’t get to me.
My ribs aren’t broken but they are definitely bruised, and they hurt like hell. He’s checked on me a
dozen times in the last twenty-four hours and I finally had to tell him I was putting up the shield to
focus on Threshing. I left out the part where he was driving me crazy. Figured that wouldn’t do me
any favors with him.

There will be a lot of riders left unbonded today, Tairn says.

The fewest dragons willing to bond ever, I echo. Why is that?

Dragons have their reasons.

I roll my eyes. Dragons might be more cryptic than the scribes hiding the truth.

Where is Sgaeyl?

She and Andarna are watching from afar. Andarna will join us after the dragons have made their
selections. Sgaeyl is laying low, should someone else try to get her to bond.

Are they still looking for Marcum?

They are. A fresh riot was dispatched at sunrise. Seems like a lot of trouble for a missing Cadet.

He’s valuable, I say. Or rather, his father is.

Speaking of fathers…

“Morning, Violet.”

Dain.

Excellent.

“Morning,” I reply as I pour a cup of coffee. I have adopted a cool attitude of indifference towards
Dain. It’s an excellent cover up for the pure disdain I feel for him. I can’t outright refuse to speak
to him, and I can’t strike him with my lightning, so indifference will have to do.

“Big day today.”

Is he serious right now? Big day today? I don’t have time for small talk. He shouldn’t, either.

“Threshing is generally a big deal,” I say.

“You made quite the splash a year ago,” he continues. “Bonding with two dragons.”

“You mean I caused chaos,” I correct.

“You sure did.” He smiles at me. “We also kissed a year ago.”

I stop and stare.

He’s smiling at me, and he looks hopeful. Has he missed the fact that I have said next to nothing to
him for three months? Did he forget that I ripped him a new one and informed him we weren’t
friends anymore? Is he really suggesting that we might want to rekindle something?

If I get bored today, I’m going to tell the commandant about this, Tairn says. I bet he would throw
quite the temper tantrum.

Don’t you dare, I hiss.

I think back to that kiss. It wasn’t a bad kiss. It was just – a kiss. It wasn’t like when Xaden kissed
me. It wasn’t full-body encompassing, skin tingling, lightning erupting. I think, too, to Xaden’s
later admission that he was jealous of Dain that day. I make a note to dig more into that nugget of
info.

No need to poke the bear, Tairn warns.

But it’s so fun, I say. We’ve flipped roles, me telling him not to tell Xaden about Dain implying we
should pick things back up, him, telling me not to press Xaden’s jealousy button.

It’s not about jealousy, he says. It’s about worth.

Worth? What the hell is he talking about now?

I thought you were intelligent.

I don’t have time to unravel one of Tairn’s riddles right now.

“That kiss meant nothing,” I tell Dain. “You made certain it couldn’t with your actions.”

“Violet,” he sighs. “Let’s start over. Let’s go back to square one and try to be friends again, see
where that takes us.” He offers me a little smile. “You have always been it for me. You know that.
And I think I’ve always been it for you, too.”

His audacity is astounding.

“If you think I’m it for you, you need to do some serious self-reflection,” I inform him. “You and I
are oil and water, Aetos. We want very different things.”

“You and Riorson were oil and water and you seemed to get along just fine,” he snaps back. “At
least until he tried to kill you.”

“Riorson and I were shadows and light,” I counter. “And I assure you, kissing him was nothing like
kissing you.”

Nothing at all.

Good. Now I’m thinking about kissing Xaden.

“Is that why you spend so much time with his cousin?” Dain asks. He’s angry now. The way his
emotions flipped is concerning. “Does Bohdi remind you of him?”

I’d be happy to torch him, Tairn offers.

One dead rider at your hands is enough for the week.

“Bodhi is my friend,” I say. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you this morning, but I don’t
appreciate it. You and I will never be together. We will never even be friends again.”

I intend to storm off in a fit of fury, but he speaks before I can make it far enough to make my
point.

“We could have been great together, Violet. Think about that next year, when I’m on the front
lines and you’re here, without me.”

I won’t be here next year, and I most certainly will not be lamenting a missed opportunity.
“I suppose it’s a good thing you’ll have your codex to keep you warm then, isn’t it?” I ask him.

“This place has changed you,” Dain says. “I hope you remember who you are supposed to be
before it’s too late.”

His words are loaded. I hold his eyes with mine.

“I’m exactly who I’m supposed to be,” I inform him. “Perhaps you’re the one who needs to do
some soul searching.”

I do walk away this time. I’m seething by the time I join Rhiannon and Ridoc at the breakfast table
and I’m not remotely hungry.

“Everything okay?” Rhiannon asks.

“You look like you could wield nails,” Ridoc adds.

“I hate Dain Aetos,” I declare. I stab the eggs I don’t want. Today is going to be a long day and I’ll
regret not eating if I skip this meal, never mind that I would have to listen to Tairn telling me I
should have eaten something which will mean Sgaeyl will know I didn’t eat and she will tell
Xaden who will go all mother hen on me, so I force myself to chew to avoid that particular game
of he-said, she-said and a growling stomach later.

“What is it with you and wingleaders?” Ridoc asks. “Might be something to explore in that psyche
of yours.”

He’s not wrong.

I change the topic to the dragons that have stepped forth for bonding this year and that, along with
a spirited debate on who will or won’t bond, takes us to the flight field. I’m on patrol which is
perfect. We’re given strict instructions not to interfere and I think of Xaden and that one single step
he took when my life was threatened. When I think back on all those little moments between us
that added up to one big explosion, that one stands out a little brighter. We weren’t bonded by our
dragons then. I was no more than a pain his ass that – at least I thought – he wanted to kill. I know
now that Brennan asked him to look out for me when he learned our mother had forced me into the
Riders Quadrant, but that was his chance. He could have let them kill me and told Brennan “sorry,
I tried.” But he didn’t.

He took a step.

I think that step is what changed everything.

Not as dense as you seem, Tairn says as I strap into the saddle Xaden had made for me. Another
act of affection he didn’t have to make. Affection, Tairn scoffs. Not what I’d call it.

And then we’re in the sky,

I let myself enjoy it for a few minutes. This is truly my favorite part of being a rider – being in the
sky, soaring through the clouds. I understand why Xaden takes flight when he needs to think. My
mind is clearer up here, too.

Flying over Threshing is a thing to behold. From this vantage point, it’s like a game. A dragon
here, a rider there, the occasional burst of flame to interrupt the game board. I catch sight of the
first cadet to bond. They are too far away for me to know if it is one of my own, but the green
dragon is in the sky, and the rider stays on.
The next rider does not.

Time passes. Tairn and I circle around and around, eyes peeled for what, I don’t know. They tell us
to patrol, but they also tell us not to interfere. The dragons will take care of any disruption.

The sun has peaked in the sky and is starting to travel down the other side when I can’t take the
suspense any long.

Let’s try to find Sloane, I say.

We can’t interfere, Silver One.

I know. I just want to make sure she isn’t a pile of ash.

It’s a needle in the haystack as Tairn swoops as low as he dares. I keep my eyes peeled, searching.
And then I see her.

On the back of a red dragon and flying right towards me.

The smile on her face is huge. She throws her arms back in glee when she sees me and I nearly
burst into happy tears. She’s bonded. We can get her out of Basgiath with us.

That’s Deigh’s son.

If I weren’t strapped in, I would have fallen off.

Seriously?

Seriously.

I have to tell Xaden.

I drop the shield.

Riorson!

Any chance you’re going to tell me you’re on your way to Aretia? he greets. He’s about to be a real
pain in the ass about me getting back to Aretia.

Sloane bonded.

Thank gods.

He was worried. I knew he was, but he wouldn’t admit it. The ratios weren’t favorable this year.
She’s bonded though, and that’s one thing he can take off his long list of things to worry about.

She bonded with Deign’s son.

Xaden, for once in his life, is speechless.

Damn, he finally manages.

It feels right.

It does, he agrees. It really does.

We’re both quiet for a beat and I know he’s thinking about Liam. I am, too.
Any trouble? he asks.

None so far. I’ll check in later.

I close the shield and we fly another couple of hours before the dragons who are willing to bond
have either done so or given up hope. There were forty-one unbonded cadets last year. There are
fifty-three this year.

We land and Tairn takes his place with the other dragons while I meander, searching the group for
my friends or Sloane or any other one of my squad members.

Mira finds me first.

“We have to go.”

Her voice is so low I don’t hear her. I turn towards her.

“What?”

“Control your features,” she warns. I frown. “We have to go.”

“Go where?”

“I don’t know.” She puts a hand on my arm and turns me so I’m looking forward at where the
dragons and riders are gathering for the formal address from our mother. “Look normal.” I give
one single nod and then wait, my eyes trained on what’s happening in front of me. I search, find
our mother. She’s deep in conversation with Dain’s father. “They’re planning a raid tonight, Violet.
The Cole boy – his disappearance has set off all kinds of alarms. Leadership has a list of people
they intend to pull out of bed and question.” She looks at me. “Your name is at the top of the list.
Your friends Bohdi and Imogen are right behind you.”

Well shit.

“How do you know all of this?” I ask urgently. My heartrate picks up.

“I broke into Mom’s office once I knew she was clear of it. I don’t know what the hell is going on
or why this Cole guy is so damned important, but their plans – signed off on by her – are all there.
Among other things.”

“Such as?” I question. Mira shakes her.

“No time. We have to go. I’m risking everything, but I know in my gut that something very bad is
going to happen if I allow you to stay. I don’t know where we’re going, but it will be far away from
here.”

You’re getting all of this? I ask Tairn.

Every word. We fly in an hour.

Looks like Xaden won’t have a chance to be a pain in my ass about returning to Aretia.

I watch as my mom, Melgren, Panchek, the others all file onto the dais to a round of applause. I
clap politely, nudge Mira to do the same. I take a deep breath and commit to the plan I’ve cobbled
together in the span of a half minute.

“I know where we can go.” I chance a glance at Mira as another cheer goes up from the crowd. Our
mother stands tall and proud and smug as Kaori addresses the group. Mira and I are no more to her
than two riders, standing at attention. “Mira, I need you to trust me more than you have ever
trusted me before.”

Mira’s eyes narrow.

“I was right,” she says. “You know things.”

“There’s no time,” I say. “I’ll explain everything. But I need you to trust me right now.”

She studies me. I hold her gaze. This is the moment I realize that if Mira denies me, I’ll leave her. I
can’t stay and I can’t risk the others by staying either because they won’t leave me here alone. If I
have to choose between my sister and the rebellion, I’m choosing the rebellion.

I have to.

“Okay,” she decides with a single nod. I sag with relief.

“We leave in an hour,” I direct. “Meet me at the top of the south turret. Your dragon will be there.”
I start to move away. She catches my hand. I raise an eyebrow.

“What’s going on, Violet?”

“Later,” I promise. “An hour isn’t much time.” I make another decision in the moment. “Get your
things, then go to the second-year floor. When you see Rhiannon, Ridoc, and Sawyer, make it your
job to get them to the turret. They’re going with us.”

You can’t save everyone, Tairn reminds me.

But I can save a few, I counter.

“See you in an hour,” Mira nods and if it wouldn't draw attention, I’d throw my arms around her
and hug her for trusting me. She slips away and I weave through the crowd towards Bohdi. I stop
several feet away.

“Bohdi,” I whisper, hoping he has his shield down. He moves his head in my direction a fraction of
an inch, indicating he’s heard me. Gods bless the war-minded nature of the Riorsons DNA. His
instinct is to be discreet which is exactly what I need. “We have to go. Leadership is planning a
raid tonight to question us about Marcum’s disappearance. Get Imogen and whomever else needs
to return. South turret. One hour.”

One subtle nod and I know he has it under control.

I keep moving. Rhiannon, Ridoc, and Sawyer are near the far edge of the crowd, perfectly out of
my mother’s line of sight as she steps to the podium. I have to time all of this just right. I feel
Xaden’s shadows brush against my shield, and I’m certain the message of my impending return has
made it to him via Sgaeyl. He will have to wait a few minutes.

“Our girl did it,” Ridoc greets me. He slings an arm over my shoulder. “A badass dragon, just for
her.”

“It looks like Deigh,” Rhiannon says. “Wild, isn’t it?”

“He’s Deign’s son,” I tell them and they gape at me. Sawyer opens his mouth to comment, but I
don’t have time for small talk. “Listen to me. Something is happening tonight. I don’t have time to
fully explain, but I have to leave Basgiath. It’s not safe here and it’s going to be even more unsafe
in the coming days and weeks. I want you three to come with me.”

They stare.

“Go where?” Rhiannon asks.

“Why isn’t it safe?” Sawyer follows.

“Do I have time to pack?” Ridoc wonders. I feel Xaden again. I keep the shield up.

“There isn’t time,” I shake my head. “I’m asking you to blindly trust me. I’m asking – begging –
you to slip back to your rooms unnoticed, pack a bag, and meet me on the south turret in an hour.
My sister will be waiting. Don’t bother questioning her. She doesn’t know what’s going on
either.”

Rhiannon studies me. If I can convince her, the others will follow. I know it in my bones.

“You have been hiding something for months,” she says. “Since the final challenge of War Games.
Whatever it is, this is it, isn’t it?”

“I’ll explain it all,” I nod. “Please, Rhi. Please. Come with me. I can’t stand the thought of you
being here when things fall apart.” I don’t dare look away, even as my mom’s speech draws a
cheer from the crowd. I can see Rhiannon wavering. “Please, Rhi.” Xaden’s shadows again. He’s
persistent. “Come with me.”

She inhales, blows out a big breath.

“Okay.”

I blow out a breath of my own and squeeze her hands.

“Thank you.”

“If she’s going, I’m going,” Ridoc says, like I knew he would. “I could use a bit of adventure.”

“I’m not staying if they’re going,” Sawyer shrugs.

“I’ll explain everything,” I say one more time. “You have to be discreet. Don’t draw attention to
yourselves. Pack what you need, including anything sentimental because I can’t guarantee you will
come back here. Find Mira. Your dragons will be waiting.”

Just Sloane left to go. I edge towards where she’s lined up to receive her relic from her dragon. I
have no choice but to wait.

Answer the commandant, Sgaeyl orders. He needs to know what’s going on.

I’ll get to him, I counter. I need to get Sloane first.

Precious minutes pass. I use the remainder of my mother’s speech to gather intel. Dain is front and
center, standing at attention, ever the perfect wingleader. I see Rhiannon’s braids sliding through
the crowd, make out Ridoc and Sawyer navigating their way out as well. I pray to the gods that
they don’t get caught. Bohdi and Imogen are nowhere to be seen. They may not have Xaden’s
shadows here, but they can still slip through them.

Our timing should be perfect. I’ve lost about fifteen minutes standing here, recruiting my friends
and waiting for my mother to wrap it up. The rest of the evening and well into the night will be
celebratory. Even leadership will let their metaphorical hair down for a bit. The sky will be full of
dragons when we depart, giving us some cover to get out of Basgiath. With luck, we will get
several hours of flight time before they realize we’re missing.

Finally – finally – the dragons mark their riders and reverie breaks out. I launch myself at Sloane,
my happiness for her not entirely faked.

“I can’t believe it!” she says as she hugs me hard. “He said his brother was Liam’s dragon!”

“It’s true,” I say as I hug her back. I don’t let her go when she tried to pull away. “I need you to
listen to me. Act normal.”

“What’s up?” she asks.

“We have to go.”

“To Aretia?”

I’m so stunned that I pull back and stare.

“You know?”

“I know enough,” she nods. “Xaden got a few letters from Liam to me. My brother and I had our
own secret language, something we made up as kids when we thought we were being clever and
hiding mischief from our parents. I don’t know everything, but I know enough.” She smiles a bit.
“I’ve been waiting for my chance to get involved. I had a feeling it would have to wait until I had
my dragon.”

“I could kiss you,” I tell her. I send a silent thank you to Liam for being clever enough to leave
breadcrumbs for her. “But we don’t have time. We’re leaving in less than an hour. Pack your bag,
and go to the second year floor. My sister is there. She doesn’t know what’s going on – neither do
Rhiannon, Ridoc, or Sawyer – so don’t say anything. She will get you to your dragon, and then we
fly.” I let her go, but I catch her hand, continue to ignore Xaden and his shadows. “I know we’re
asking a lot of you. You literally just bonded. I can’t leave you here, though. I promised Liam.”

“I can handle myself,” she assures me. “My brother died for this. I won’t let him down by doing
the same.” I squeeze her hand, hard. “Be careful, Violet,” she says as she lets go of my hand. “I
don’t know everything, but I know enough to know you’re target zero.”

She slips off and I’m left to do the same. I check on my mother’s whereabouts. She’s absorbed in a
conversation with second wing’s wingleader who has stars in her eyes as she basks in the undivided
attention of General Lilith Sorrengail. I hope she keeps it as long as possible.

Dain, however, is watching me.

Fucking fuck.

And Xaden’s shadows again.

I hate men.

Always in the way when I need to get shit done.

Throw the snake off your scent, Tairn orders. Unless you want more trouble. Or another dead
rider. I want nothing more than to torch him.

You’re developing a disturbing taste for torching people.

Only the ones who deserve it.

I blow out a breath. I don’t have time for Dain, but it looks like I’m going to have to make time for
him. I hold my ground, make a show out of congratulating nearby first years like a good squad
leader. It looks like all of my squad did bond and I’m pretty damn pleased. And more than a little
sad I won’t be there to see what they become.

“Nearly all of our wing bonded,” comes Dain’s voice.

“Of course they did,” I say with genuine certainty. “They deserve it.” I make myself turn to face
him. I can see it in his features. He wants to say something. I have no idea if it’s to my detriment or
benefit because he looks downright torn. “You okay? You look constipated.”

He sighs at my crass observation.

“It’s not always as black and white as it appears, Violet.” His eyes bore into mine. I want to look
away just in case his signet has somehow evolved to a place where he can read thoughts through
eye contact, but I don’t. This feels important. This feels like he’s trying to tell me something.
“Right and wrong aren’t always separate.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask.

“Right and wrong aren’t always separate,” he repeats. “My right and your right doesn’t make the
other wrong.”

“What in the hell…”

“Be smart, Violet. Stay safe.”

With that, he deliberately turns and walks away.

I stand there in stunned silence for a moment, and then another. I have no idea what he meant or
what he was trying to say. I do know he was trying to deliver a message, and that he’s not nearly
adept enough at skirting authority to manage it. Yet his intentional turn and walk away feels
major.

Whether major in a good way or bad way, I don’t know.

Xaden’s shadows brush yet again and I snap back to reality. I have a half hour, at most. I find my
mom again. She’s humoring a group of enamored first years along with Melgren. Panchek and
Dain’s father are absorbed in conversation with the same second wing wingleader who I would bet
anything would be a great match for Dain if she’s as ambitious and power hungry as she appears to
be. They would either ascend to the top together or kill each other on the climb. This is as clear as
the coast will get. I turn towards the Riders Quadrant.

Melgren’s dragon, Codagh, catches my eye and I freeze on instinct. He holds my eyes for a beat
and then blinks, one time, and gives a nod of his head so infinitely small that I wonder if I
imagined it.

What. The. Hell. Is. Happening.

Move, comes Tairn’s voice. Time is running short.

Is Codagh…

That’s for the dragons to know. Get a move on, Silver One. And answer the commandant.

I’ve put Xaden off long enough. I drop the shield as I cross the field.

Fucking finally, Violence.

I had to round up the others. Then I got caught up by Dain and I swear I think Codagh just gave
me permission to take off.

The fuck did Dain want?

He rambled about right and wrong and black and white. Then he walked away. I think he was
trying to tell me something, but I don’t have time for interpretation.

He’s not watching you, is he? Did he touch you?

No to both. But Codagh – he caught my eye, blinked once, and then nodded, barely, but enough for
me to note it.

There’s more to that dragon than Melgren knows, Xaden says in an elusive way.

You know something.

Codagh marked us, he reminds me. I told you, Violence, he gave us a gift.

You’re not telling me something.

I can’t confirm it and gods forbid a dragon confirm it for me, but I think Codagh is on our side.
And always has been.

You’re being elusive.

Which is what got us in this not together but not apart state we’re in in the first place.

My theories on Codagh can wait until you’re safely in this fortress, he informs me. You’re in
charge, Violence. And I’ll not have you arrive here in anything less than one piece.

I’m in charge. He has told me repeatedly that I’m his equal. I’m not sure I’m ready for this though.

But Bohdi…

Bohdi takes orders from you, he cuts me off. He will be a resource, and he will protect you with
his life. But his orders come from you. This is your command.

I don’t know…

It’s been a while since I’ve felt a lack of confidence, but commanding a riot, one that is escaping a
war college and flying to join a rebellion at that, feels so very far out of my league. I’m not Xaden
or even Bohdi. I come from a family of riders, but I was raised to be a scribe. Xaden was born to be
a warrior.
You’re a fucking lightning wielder, Violence, he says. You have Tairn, with Andarna and Sgaeyl
flanking him. You’re smart and you’re brave. Put your riders into formation and lead them to
Aretia.

His confidence in me is overwhelming. I take a deep breath and try to draw on some of it for
myself.

Okay, I agree. I’ll get us there safely.

There is no other option, he informs me. You don’t fail.

You have an awful lot of confidence in me, Riorson.

It’s not misguided, he replies. The shield stays down. I told you I won’t give you orders, but this is
as close as I’ll get. Don’t block me out during this, Violet. I’ll lose my fucking mind if I can’t reach
you while you’re in flight.

Shield stays down, I agree. I think I was always going to keep it down. Not just because Xaden is a
valuable resource if I need him. Because Xaden is safety. That realization makes me swallow down
a breath. He’s no longer the literal shadowy figure I can’t trust. He’s the place I know I’m safe.

He makes me feel safe.

I hesitate in the courtyard. Straight ahead takes me to my room, my half-packed pack I need to toss
more things into before I mount my dragon and fly away. Left takes me to the Scribes Quadrant
where Jesinia may be in danger, where Chester may hold all the answers. A significant part of me
is pulled that way, but I know there isn’t time. Tairn’s words about not being able to save everyone
echo through my mind.

I can’t go to the archives, but there is somewhere else I can go. Somewhere that is, for perhaps the
first time in a long time, unguarded. I’m playing with fire, but I take off at a run.

What are you doing? Xaden half asks, half demands.

Taking a chance on something, I answer. I’ll keep the shield down, but I need to concentrate. I’ll
check in once we’re in the air.

I’m fast on a good day, but I move at record speed now. I fumble a few times, searching, but it’s all
still there which tells me what I thought all along. I find what I’m looking for in under a minute,
block out all the emotions that try to overtake me as I gather as much as I can carry. The weight of
my new load threatens to slow me down, but I don’t let it. I can’t. I’m breathing hard by the time I
arrive at my room. Mira is in the hallway with Rhiannon and Sloane who is the only one who
looks perfectly calm. Ridoc and Sawyer are in their rooms, doors open, finishing up packing.

“Take this,” I pass my collection to Mira. “It comes with us. Rhi, can you throw a few things in my
pack for me? I’ll be right back.”

“Violet, we don’t have…”

I’m on the move again before Mira can finish her sentence. The quadrant is blissfully empty thanks
to Threshing and the celebrations already raging outside. I practically collide with Bohdi who is
carrying far too much in several bags for it to merely be his belongings.

“Violet, we have to…”

“The files from Jesinia,” I rasp out, still moving towards Xaden’s room. “We can’t leave without
them.”

“Fuck, right.”

Imogen appears from her room. She has a pack on her back, another thrown over her shoulder.

“Do you have an extra bag?” Bohdi asks her.

“I do…”

“Get it and meet us in Xaden’s room. Fast.”

I don’t question it. I let us in and go for his armoire where I hid the files. Bohdi goes for the
weapons.

“We’ll need these,” he says as he starts to systematically take them off the wall. “You’re armed?”

“To the teeth,” I confirm. “You have a venin dagger?”

“Two,” he confirms. “You?”

“Same.”

Imogen walks through the open door.

“Fuck, I forgot how loaded he was,” she says as she starts stashing daggers in her empty bag.
Bohdi straps a crossbow to his back. It’s his weapon of choice and his accuracy rivals mine with
my daggers.

“Violet, the bottom drawer of his desk. There’s a false…”

“Bottom, I know,” I say, already moving towards it. “Brennan’s letters are there.” I remove them
all, look around the room for anything else I think Xaden might want.

“Go pack,” Imogen barks. “We’ll finish up here and meet you on the turret.”

I don’t stick around to debate. I’m down to mere minutes. I race back down the stairs and find Mira
and Rhiannon stuffing clothing into my pack. I grab the bag I passed Mira and dump the papers
from Xaden’s room into it.

“What the actual fuck is going on?” Mira demands.

“I told you, I’ll tell you everything. We have to move though. Just trust me, Mira. Please.” I let
them keep packing the things they think I need. I go for the things I know I’ll need. The last of my
daggers. The book of fables.

Xaden’s copy of An Prionsa Beag.

I check to make sure the sketch of him and his dad is in there before I stuff it into my pack. I grab
his flight jacket at the last second. Rhiannon notices.

“Is that…”

“Later,” I say. “We have to go.”

I take my second pack from them, collect Sloane, Ridoc, and Sawyer, ignore their questions about
our destination, and head to the turret. Imogen and Bohdi are already there.

“Truly, someone, anyone, tell me literally anything,” Mira demands.

“There’s no time,” I say yet again. “I swear I’ll tell you everything, but we need to get in the air
while we have an advantage.” I meet Bohdi’s eye and he gives me a nod of confidence, just as
Tairn speaks in my mind.

Your move, Silver One.

Here goes something.

“I know I’m asking a lot of you,” I say to my sister, my friends. “I’m asking you to trust me
blindly. I’m also asking you to trust Bohdi and Imogen. We have a long flight ahead of us. We fly
in a diamond formation. Mira, as an experienced rider, you will bring up the rear. Imogen, Bohdi,
you fly flank. Rhi, Sawyer, Ridoc, you’re center. Surround Sloane. She’s only just bonded and
we’re asking a lot of her and her dragon.”

“We’re up for the challenge,” she says with steel in her tone. I nod once.

“Sgaeyl and Andarna will protect from above and below.” I stand tall, draw my shoulders back.
“Tairn and I will lead.”

Bohdi gives me the faintest of grins. “Yes, General.”

“General?” Mira questions. I ignore her. I’m also not a general, at least not in my opinion. Another
problem for later.

Tairn, call the dragons.

Teine is approaching now.

I find Mira.

“Mira,” I say, “you’re up.”

One by one, my friends mount their dragons and fly off to formation. I don’t think I take a full
breath until every last one of them is in the air. Tairn approaches for me to mount, but so do
Andarna and Sgaeyl.

I’m here to catch if you fall, Andarna says with something akin to glee. Tairn is battle worn, but
Andarna and I are experiencing all of this for the first time together. There’s something poetic
about that.

I promised the commandant I would see you back to Aretia safely, says Sgaeyl. So I am.

It’s the nicest thing she’s ever said to me.

I mount Tairn with an ease I didn’t possess even three months ago and then we’re in the air. He
soars into position, and I release a big breath as we settle in.

We will take an alternate route, he tells me once we’re clear of Basgiath and certain our exit was
hidden by both night and the celebratory flights of dragons dotting the sky. It will add time to our
flight, but it will make us infinitely harder to track. I’ve coordinated with a few gryphon drifts and
other dragons. They will help us cover our tracks. It will be like we disappeared into thin air.
He says no more. I make good on my promise to Xaden.

We’re in the air and clear of Basgiath.

No problems? he asks.

Not so far. I purse my lips. There are several of us.

So I’ve heard.

I couldn’t leave them.

If they side with us, they’re welcomed here.

I hear what he doesn’t say. If they don’t side with us, we’ll have to, at minimum, toss them into a
cell. I pray to the gods that they will.

Tairn is taking us on an alternate flight path. It’s going to add several hours to our flight time, but
he says we’ll be harder to track. He’s been coordinating with gryphon and other dragons to help
cover us.

I know the route. It’s an almost two day flight. Are you up for that, Violence?

I will be fine, I assure him. Someone made me a saddle that makes flying infinitely more
comfortable.

I couldn’t care less about how comfortable it is so long as it's safe, he says. He exhales a long
breath. I need you to get here safely, Violence. He pauses. I need you to get here safely for me.

I promise him I will.

It’s a grueling flight. We fly for hours and hours, finally pausing for a respite near a body of water
somewhere along the west coast. The others are tired, rest while Bohdi, Imogen, and I work out a
watch schedule. Mira insists on keeping watch as well, but only so she can question me. I remain
steadfast in not telling her much. She needs to see to believe, and if I tell her I’m taking her to
Aretia, to Xaden, to our brother, to a revolution, she won’t believe me. She may even panic and
blow all of this to hell. I manage a few hours of sleep, curled up beside Andarna, Sgaeyl
suspiciously nearby at all times, and then we’re in the air again.

Something shifts around me hours into the next day of flight. It’s hard to explain, but it feels like
something slides into place in my chest and settles with a resounding click.

We’re near Aretia, aren’t we? I ask Tairn just as the Cliffs of Dralor come into view.

We’ll be there in under an hour, he confirms. You felt it, didn’t you?

What was that? I reply.

If dragons could smile – if Tairn could smile – he would be smiling now.

Like calls to like.

You and your fucking riddles.

He only chuckles.
Except I think I get it. I still can’t put it into words, but as the first lights of Aretia – which I realize
quickly are from the fortress which looks stunning against the last slivers of fading daylight –
come into view, my very soul seems to settle. The wind rushing around us keeps me from knowing
what the others are saying, if they’re saying anything at all, but I find myself leaning forward,
willing Tairn to go just a little faster. He banks wide around the fortress and then we are beginning
our descent into a dragon rotunda that puts the one at Basgiath to shame. I didn’t see this during my
few days here. I didn’t see much of the fortress at all, come to think of it. I was too busy healing,
dealing with the shock of Xaden’s betrayal, the fact that my brother is alive, and making my case
for returning to Basgiath to take a house tour.

Tairn lands and I’m unbuckling my straps before he’s fully settled on the ground. Because across
the sweeping rotunda, a set of heavy double doors bang open and several figures walk through
them with purpose, Xaden in the lead. He’s too far away for me to make out his features, but the
knowing its him is soul deep. I slide down Tairn’s leg and my tired, aching limbs seem to have a
second life as the others land around me. I can make out Xaden now. Garrick is on his right,
Brennan his left, both a couple of paces behind him as he commands the room by his presence
alone. A few other rides make up the group.

I stop, wait. Bohdi and Imogen fall in on either side of me. Sloane, brave, young Sloane, steps up
to Imogen’s other side.

“Wait…”

I am absolutely not surprised that Ridoc is the first to speak as Xaden and company come to a stop
several yards away from us. I can’t take my eyes off Xaden. His features are sharper than I
remember. There’s a new hardness there, a new maturity. He is every bit the commanding general
as his eyes scan the crowd before him.

Until those eyes land on mine.

Everything about him softens and sheer relief rakes through him as his eyes do an appraisal to
make sure I’m not hurt. My whole body pulls towards him, like a magnet that found its match. It’s
an actual fight to remain in place and not throw myself at him.

“Hold on,” Rhiannon says. “Are we… Is this…”

Xaden takes a shaky breath like he can’t believe what’s before him and then the commanding
general mask falls back in place. He rips his eyes away from mine with what looks like
considerable effort and turns them back to the collective.

“Welcome to Aretia,” he greets the group. “I’m sure each of you has a number of questions, and we
will answer them all. It’s been a long journey, however, so for now, my staff will show you to your
quarters. Get cleaned up, have something to eat, get some well-deserved rest. We will talk in the
morning.” He surveys them, takes the time to meet the eyes of Rhiannon, Ridoc, Sawyer, Sloane,
even Mira. “You’re safe here. Even if you don’t trust me, you know you can trust Violet.” He nods
once. “If you need anything, let me, Violet, or one of the staff know.”

Let me know? I don’t even know where the bathroom is in this place.

There’s a flurry of activity as people start to move. Imogen takes Sloane by the elbow and steers
her towards a woman in a black uniform and I take a moment to baffle at the fact that Xaden has
staff. Garrick, I notice, tracks Imogen’s every move while she pretends she’s not hyper aware of
him. Bohdi squeezes my shoulder.
“You did good, Sorrengail.”

I flush at the compliment, and he heads for Xaden who embraces him in a rare open show of how
much he cares for other people. My heart squeezes at the sight and I think of them separated for
four years and then for another three months, feel immense gratitude that they are back together
now. Rhiannon comes to stand next to me.

“I can’t… What the hell is happening?”

“That’s Riorson,” Sawyer says in disbelief. “And Garrick. I think I saw Ciaran…”

“There are a substantial number of people here who are supposed to dead,” Ridoc states. He his
wide-eyed and confused. I hardly hear him though because Xaden has crossed the space to Sgaeyl.
She bows her head and greets him with an affection I didn’t know she possessed. Some of the
tension Xaden carries in his shoulders falls away with the reunion. They exchange a few words and
then she takes flight.

It’s been a long flight, Tairn says. We’ll be resting nearby.

Thank you, Tairn….

You did well, Silver One. Be proud of yourself.

Andarna nudges my shoulder, forcing Ridoc and Sawyer aside. She is still adjusting to her much
larger size, doesn’t realize how big she is now.

I’m proud of you, she says.

I’m proud of you, I counter while I stroke her nose. That was your longest flight.

Yours too, she says. We’re growing stronger together. She nudges me one more time, then takes
off in Tairn and Sgaeyl’s wake.

“So many not so dead people,” Ridoc repeats.

I remember myself then.

“Let them show you to your quarters,” I encourage. I take Rhiannon’s hand and give it a reassuring
squeeze. “Have some food, get some rest. I’ll find you in a bit.”

“I don’t want to leave you,” Rhiannon hedges, her eyes darting to Xaden.

“I’m fine,” I assure her. If I’m honest with myself, this is the most fine I’ve been in three months.
“I’ll find you in a little while and fill you in. On everything.”

It takes a little more coaxing, but I manage to send the three of them with a kind looking woman
and a gentlemanly man who promise them hot showers, a warm meal, and a soft bed. My scalp
tingles and I find Xaden. His eyes are on me and only me.

I can’t look away.

Everything else falls away. It’s just me and him and dammit, I have missed him. Right now, in this
moment, the past doesn’t matter. I don’t care that he kept secrets. I don’t care that he lied or
omitted the truth, or whatever angle he wants to take. I don’t care that he withheld himself from
me, that he kept walls around himself to keep me out. I don’t even care that I’m pretty sure he is
still keeping things from me. All I know is he’s here and I’m here and I have missed him and he’s
 looking at me like I’m the last available breath of air.

“Fuck it,” he breathes.

I don’t know if he moves or I move or we both move, but I’m in his arms and I don’t know if I’m
ever leaving them. He has one arm locked around me, a hand buried in my hair, holding me tight to
his chest. My hands have fisted in the jacket he wears and I’m using it to pull him still closer as I
try to fold myself into him. He takes a ragged, emotion-filled breath and dips his head to rest
against mine.

“Welcome home, Violet,” he whispers. I close my eyes and try to pull myself even closer, don’t
register, fully, what he just said. All I can think of is that this feels right, like this is where I’m
supposed to be. With him. In Aretia.

His hold on me doesn’t let up. I cling to him in return. I don’t know how long we stand like this,
but I also don’t care. Nothing else matters other than being held by this man who has refused to
give my heart back.

But then his grip loosens, only slightly, but enough to notice.

“Oh shit,” he breathes.

“What?” I pull back as much as I can in his embrace and look over my shoulder, searching.

Mira.

She hasn’t moved. She’s standing in the same spot she has been in since dismounting Tiene. She is
staring at Brennan with a look of disbelief mingled with anger. He gazes right back, full of
trepidation, waiting. I exhale and reflexively tighten my grip on Xaden’s jacket.

“Oh shit.”

Chapter End Notes

What a ride. Threshing. The threat of a raid. The escape from Basgiath where they are
actively looking for an AWOL Marcum. And a reunion. A much awaited, much
needed reunion. That Mira interrupted. And Brennan. He's 2-2 in interrupting
VIolet/Xaden in pivotal moments.

Next update, Mira gets some answers and so does Violet who also learns about a new
skill (or two) of Xaden's.

I know I'm an absolute broken record, but seriously, THANK YOU. This fanfic is a
passion project I write on during downtime at work, when I need a mental break from
the demands of being in a leadership role, or when I need a break from the last edits of
my book. Every single comment you leave is just - everything. It inspires me to keep
writing, keep posting. So thank you. Thank you for commenting, leaving kudos,
bookmarking, following, even finding me on social media or talking about this fic on
Reddit. I love you as much as I love Taylor dating Travis which is A LOT. I might
even love you as much as I love my Volunteers...

If you're interested in following along on social media, you can find me on Instagram:
@SarahWylandWrites
 Chapter 16
Chapter Notes

Um, FRIENDS. I have never, not once, received so many comments on a chapter as I
did last update. WOW. My mind is blown. I reply to every comment and you have
kept me BUSY. Thank you thank you thank you thank you.

Shall Violet and Xaden spend some time together IN PERSON? I think so...

See the end of the chapter for more notes

I shouldn’t be here.

This is a Sorrengail family problem. I led them to my office to talk, intended to leave them to it no
matter how badly I wanted to have Violet to myself, but as I slipped towards the door, Mira said
“where do you think you’re going?” and informed me I would not be leaving. I wasn’t sure about
it, but Violet gave me an approving nod and so here I am, arms crossed, leaning against said door
in case I need to make a quick exit. Brennan and Mira are in the armchairs, and Violet is perched
on my desk.

Violet is on my desk.

It’s hard enough for me to wrap my head around the fact that Violet is here despite waiting on a
knife’s edge for two days for her arrival. She is actually here, and I keep waiting to wake up and
realize I dreamed it all, that I didn’t actually have her in my arms and pulled in tight to my chest,
that I didn’t get to hold her, rest my head against hers, whisper a ‘welcome home’ because it was
the most all-encompassing thing I could think to say at the time. Except she is here, and I did throw
caution to the wind and pull her to me. Dammit, it felt good to have her in my arms again. It felt
right.

Her perched on my desk is a whole other level of torture. We couldn’t figure out how to make the
desk work our first time. I have since figured out a way to take her on my desk or her desk or any
desk if I can just get her to give me another chance. The primal part of me that knows what it’s like
to be like her is fighting the urge to kick her siblings out, stride across the room, and have her. The
rest of me that loves and respects her is leaning against this door and trying to think pure thoughts.

“What in the fuck is going on?” Mira demands, eyes blazing as she takes in her siblings. I wonder
if she has ever been the only one in the room who doesn’t know what’s going on before. She
narrows in on Brennan. “How long have you been alive?”

“Well, I turned thirty this year, so – three decades, and counting.”

I snort at his cheeky response. Violet cuts her eyes at me though and I put on a straight face. Not a
laughing matter, then.

“Don’t be cute with me, Brennan,” Mira warns. “What the hell happened? We have been grieving
your death for six years! Were you even hurt?”

“I did nearly die,” he confirms. “Although it was not at Fen Riorson’s hands. It was another rider,
one who had realized I was working for the rebellion. Naolin did channel too much power in an
effort to save me. He brought me back from death, but I was still on the brink of death when he
passed away.” He looks at me. “You want to take this next part, Riorson?”

Not really, but I know what he’s doing. He’s giving me the chance to be the one to tell Violet the
truth about what happened that day because he knows hearing it from me will matter to her. And,
maybe, I need to be the one to tell her for me, too. Between her healing and Brennan being not dead
and the upheaval of trying to figure out what to do next, we hadn’t fully gotten to this part of
Brennan’s not quite resurrection story before she was off to Basgiath.

And it’s a very big part.

“My dad mended Brennan.”

Silence fills the room. I hold my breath, wait for Violet, for someone, to react. I wait longer than I
thought I would in a room full of Sorrengails.

“Your dad was a mender,” Violet finally speaks.

“He was,” I nod. “He also thought highly of Brennan. He wasn’t going to let him die.”

“All things considered, Mira, you owe two Riorsons for not being an only child. Fen saved me.”
Brennan nods in my direction. “Xaden saved Violet.”

“You saved Violet,” I counter. “I damn near got her killed.”

“You got her here,” he reminds me.

I avert my gaze. I have a hard time with the memories of that night. It’s not just in my dreams
where I see Violet falling from Tairn, see the gash in her side, the black of her blood. I was a breath
away from losing her and I’m not sure I’m over that. I don’t know that I will ever be over that. I
have never felt fear like that before and I never want to feel it again.

“We can get to that part later,” Violet says. Her eyes are on me, and I dare to look at her. I see
understanding there. She knows I have a tremendous amount of guilt around that night. She is
graciously letting me out of answering Mira’s questions about it, at least for now.

One more reason I don’t deserve her.

“When did you join the rebellion?” Mira demands. “How did you join it? How the hell are we in
Aretia? What does that Riorson,” she points at me, “have to do with any of it?”

“I encountered the venin,” Brennan tells her. “That’s all it took. One encounter and the realization
that Navarre has been trying to cover them up for gods knows how long. I went to Fen and he
welcomed me with open arms. I was working as a double agent before my supposed death. The
Barrens aren’t so barren, Mira. The venin have an entire kingdom set up there. It’s small, but it
exists. They have a government, a school, everything. Poromiel did a good job of keeping them at
bay for a long time, but they have been overwhelmed and left to fight with Navarre for resources
Navarre could readily provide, except Navarre is too busy sticking their head in the sand and
pretending like nothing is wrong and the venin doesn’t exist.”

“We think they want the material that powers the wards,” Violet supplies. “The venin are deathly
powerful, Mira, and their magic powers the wyvern. They are damn near impossible to kill. You
need a special weapon.”
“Or lightning,” I say, eyes on her.

“Or lightning,” she echoes, and I know she’s remembering that night, too. “I fought them at
Athebyne. I was gravely wounded by a poisoned dagger and nearly died. Xaden got me here and
Brennan was able to reverse the poison. It’s not right, Mira, what Navarre is doing. They are
literally rewriting history.”

I stay quiet as they bring Mira up to speed on what we know about the scribes and their
involvement in all of this. I can’t help but watch Violet, mesmerized by her, grateful she’s here,
amazed by the fact that she is here. I’m also sure she’s sore. She has to be. She has been on the
back of a dragon for two straight days, and that’s taxing on any rider, let alone one with her
condition. I will guess her ribs are still sore from Sgaeyl’s interference, too. I have to push down
my urge to intervene, to tell Mira and Brennan they can talk all they want, but Violet is going to
rest. She will sit here with her siblings as long as it takes to hash this out, rest be damned. It would
be wasting my breath to even suggest it.

“No one has explained his role in it.” Mira points to me. “What, exactly, is Riorson doing?”

All eyes look to me. Violet gives me another encouraging nod.

“I’m the commanding general,” I tell her, and her eyes blow big in disbelief. “I might have been a
kid when all of this started with Navarre and Tyrrendor, but I understood right and wrong all the
same. My dad died and I took up his metaphorical shield. I’m not going to let innocent people
suffer because Navarre doesn’t want to fight back.” I push off the wall, stand tall. “I’ll be frank,
Mira. You have a choice to make. You can join us and fight, or you can spend your days as a
prisoner of war. Those are your choices now. We have come too far and we have done too much to
let your allegiances to Navarre ruin it. You’re here because your sister and your brother trust you
and I trust them. I hope you will join us. Not just for your signet or your talent in battle, but
because it would devastate your brother and sister to have to turn their backs on you.”

She glares at me. She has learned I’m not the bad guy here, but her conditioning to think I am isn’t
easily overcome. She grinds her jaw, looks like she might throw a dagger at me. I let my shadows
form around me, reminding her of who I am. Mira doesn’t like me and I can’t say I’m crazy about
her, either.

“Do you honestly think that I’m going to allow my brother and sister to fight these things without
me?” she asks. “Even if I have to report to you, I’m not turning my back on this. I’m not going back
to Navarre. Our mother might be soulless, but I’m not. Despite what you might think.”

If I had to choose a Sorrengail sibling with no soul, she would be my pick, but I’m smart enough
not to voice that observation.

“If you’re with us, I’m happy to have you,” I say. I push off the wall. I don’t want to be in a room
Violet isn’t in, not so soon after I got her back here, but the Sorrengails need some time alone. “I’ll
leave you three to reunite. Brennan, show Mira to her quarters when you’re done.”

I purposefully say nothing about where Violet is sleeping and exit the office.

“Also, Riorson and Violet are fucking,” I hear Brennan say as the door closes behind me.

“We are not!” Violet protests. “Anymore,” she adds and here’s to hoping that changes soon
because I have already had to tell my lower half to get it together. My stretch of celibacy isn’t going
to end tonight.
I wind through the halls and find Bohdi’s room. I knock on the door.

“It’s open,” he calls out and I let myself in. He’s propped up in his bed, freshly showered, working
on something in his sketchbook. It’s good to see he still does that, that he held on to something
from a simpler time. He closes it but not before I can see a silhouette of Aretia forming under his
skilled hand and tosses it aside with my arrival. “Figured that was you.”

I drop onto the bed next to him and lean against the wall. It’s just like when we were kids and we
would hang out in each other’s rooms, plot our next adventure, at least until we were old enough to
understand that our parents were doing a hell of a lot more than run of the mill rider missions. Then
we would worry and speculate and plot how to learn more and, eventually, how to help.

“Mira is in,” I report. “I left the Sorrengails in my office to debate the finer points of Brennan not
being dead and Violet getting involved in all of this.”

“Was she easy to convince?” he asks.

“Easier than I thought it would be,” I admit. “It helps tremendously that she saw the venin for
herself. I also threatened to make her a prisoner of war, so there’s that.”

“That would have gone over well with Violet.”

“I think she would have understood,” I say. “She wouldn’t have liked it, but she would have
understood.” I give him a once over. “You good?”

“I’m good,” he nods. “Fucking glad to be back though. I hate that place.” I reach over and ruffle his
hair. He smacks my hand away and I chuckle. We settle down again and he looks at me.

“You got Violet back,” he comments. I shake my head.

“I have her back in Aretia, but I don’t have her back, not yet.” I let my guard down some because
it’s Bohdi and he has had a front row seat to me falling in love with her. “I hope we can change that
now that she’s here.”

“I like her,” he tells me. “A lot.” He elbows me. “She’s good for you.”

“She’s too good for me,” I counter. “But I’m going to try to deserve her anyway.”

“You do deserve her, Xaden. I reckon if anyone deserves to be happy, it’s you. You have been
through hell.”

“We all have,” I remind him.

“Yeah, but you’re the one with a hundred and seven scars on your back.”

I let that hang between us.

“What about you?” I ask, changing the subject. “Any potential life-altering partners in play?”

“Not at present,” he shakes his head. “Maybe one of these days. I hope so, anyway. Dad died when
I was really young, but I remember what he and Mom had. I want that.”

I remember my uncle, too, probably better than even Bohdi does. He died during a training
exercise when Bohdi was five and I was six. He loved my aunt with all he had, and he was my
dad’s best friend. Bohdi wanted to be just like him, and I daresay he is, even if he looks like his
mom.
“Word of warning?” I tell him. “Relationships are fucking hard.”

“You would have been proud of her,” Bohdi says. “Violet took charge, got us all out of Basgiath,
commanded the riot all the way here, never mind what she managed to do with infiltrating the
scribes.”

“I’m always proud of her,” I say. “She’s a force of nature, and I don’t mean because she can wield
lightning.”

I hang out with Bohdi for a while, just enjoying being reunited with my cousin. I start to grow
antsy though, something in me calling out to be near Violet, to check on Violet, to make sure
Violet is okay. It has been like this since day one, the pull towards her, the need to be around her.
It’s been hell to be apart from her and now that she’s here, it’s like something in me has said
“enough” and I can’t resist that draw the way I could and did before. I have to be careful though,
mindful of any boundaries she has. Still, if I can be in the same room as her, at least for a while…

I leave Bohdi and it’s like the fates finally throw me a fucking bone because Violet steps out of a
room at the end of the corridor that has been assigned to Rhiannon and I feel a familiar tingling
work down my spine. It’s like an old friend and I’m so damn glad to have the sensation back. She
spots me and I stay put, waiting for her to reach me.

“How is she?” I greet her. “The others?”

“Confused, freaked out, but otherwise okay,” she answers. “I gave them a very high level overview,
but we have a lot to answer for tomorrow morning.”

“We will,” I promise her. “How about Mira?”

“She’s reeling,” Violet shrugs. “I get it. I’ve been there.” I can’t stop the way I flinch at that.
“She’s furious at Brennan, not happy with me, and blames you for everything because you’re the
easiest one to blame, but she’s on our side. She wants to fight.”

“I’m an easy scapegoat,” I shrug. She frowns, but I don’t want to dig into that. “Where is she
now?”

“Brennan showed her to her quarters. She’s either taking the very long, very hot bath she said she
damn well deserved, or she’s ending Brennan’s life on principal.”

“I’m hoping for the bath option,” I quip.

“Me too,” she says, and I chuckle. A shy smile graces her lips, and I can’t decide if it's awkward to
be around her in person again, or if it's okay. Regardless, I’m not going to push her away.

“You haven’t eaten, have you?”

“I missed dinner while we were talking to Mira. I have some food left in my pack that will get me
through to breakfast.”

“Come on.” I reach for her but think better of it and shove my hands in my pockets. I broke my own
rules once tonight when I pulled her into my arms. It’s back to keeping my hands to myself until
she asks for me to touch her or indicates that it’s okay for me to touch her. “Let’s get you
something to eat.”

“You don’t have to…”

“Violet,” I cut her off gently, “I’m feeding you. Besides, I haven’t eaten either. If I’m going to
make a mess of Ms. Jade’s kitchen, I may as well feed us both.”

I want to take care of her. I might even need to take care of her. I can do that right now by making
sure she eats and has everything she needs to be comfortable. I can also use this time to help
reestablish her trust in me.

I lead her through the fortress. She’s quiet, taking in everything she can as we walk. I let her,
refrain from filling the space with mindless commentary about her surroundings as I guide her into
the sprawling kitchen. I have always liked this part of the castle, mostly because I found safety
from my mom within its walls. Having Violet here gives it a warmth it hasn’t had in years. I pull
out a stool at the large island.

“Sit,” I direct Violet. I half expect her to protest, but she slips onto the stool, further proving to me
that I can never predict how Violet is going to react. I start searching for inspiration on what the
hell to make us. She watches me as I open drawers and doors.

“Do you know how to cook?” she wonders.

“I can make a few things,” I confirm. “Ms. Jade got tired of Bohdi and I always asking for food
when we were teenagers, so she taught us how to fend for ourselves. Bohdi still can’t scramble
eggs, but I can do enough.” I survey what’s available to me, then look over my shoulder at Violet.
“Trust me?”

A loaded question I didn’t mean to ask, but it’s out there. She considers me, then nods with some
hesitation. I double down on my determination to take that hesitation away.

“What are you making?” she asks.

“It’s a sandwich Ms. Jade makes,” I say. “It’s a hot ham and cheese sandwich with a sauce. There is
leftover tomato soup, too.” This is one meal I know I can get right every time. It seems so juvenile
to want to impress Violet with my cooking skills given that we’re weeks, if not days, from going to
battle, but that’s exactly what I want to do. I want to cook for her and I want to impress her. I drop
some butter into a pan, then heat the oven.

“I can bake,” Violet offers up. “I’m not much of a cook. I can definitely scramble eggs, but I prefer
to bake.” She gives a wistful smile. “I haven’t baked in well over a year.”

“You have this kitchen at your disposal,” I tell her. “If you get the urge to bake, it’s all yours.”

I wish she knew how thoroughly I mean that. If I have it my way, this entire place will be hers.

Ours.

I start working on the rest of our meal, slicing bread and lining it up on a pan. I search for
something to say. I don’t want to talk about war and battles and Basgiath. I want to talk to Violet
about – anything else. Like we would if our lives were normal and I was trying to get the girl I like
to like me back.

“You should soak in the tub after you eat,” I say. Like it helps to think about Violet naked in my
home and not naked with me. “I’ll get you some salts. They will help with the muscle soreness.”

“That would be incredible,” she nods. “I want a bath and I want to sleep for a week.” She considers
me as I check on the butter and move on to slicing the ham. “You’re still not sleeping well, are
you?”
She phrases it as a question, but it’s rhetorical. She knows the answer.

“It’s probably going to be a while before I sleep well again,” I hedge. I think, maybe, if she was
next to me, I might sleep okay. At the very least, if I woke up from a nightmare and she was next to
me, I think I could go back to sleep. I don’t propose that, though. “If you want something to drink,
help yourself.”

“Some water would actually be great,” she determines. She slips off the stool and I watch her,
direct her to where she can find the glasses. She gets two out of the cabinet, pours me a glass as
well even though I didn’t ask for one, like she can sense that I’m thirsty, too. She puts it within my
reach, then leans on the counter while I stir flour into my melted butter. “Can I help?”

“You have done enough today, Violence,” I say, gentle in my delivery. “Let me take care of you.”

I hold my breath and wait for her reply. That shy smile is back, and she nods, the faintest blush
coloring her cheeks. I fucking soar. I feel like I’m falling for her all over again. I hope like hell the
feeling is mutual.

“You didn’t tell me your dad mended Brenan,” she hedges. “That he was a mender.”

“I didn’t have a lot of time when you were here last,” I say. “It wasn’t something I wanted to tell
you over our bond, and it was something Brennan wanted me to be the one that told you.
Something I wanted to be the one that told you.”

“I guess it makes sense that he was a mender,” she continues. “If our signets are reflective of who
we are, he wanted to fix things, make them right. Mending makes sense.”

My chest is heavy. It’s been so long since someone talked about my dad in a positive light. Bohdi,
Garrick, even Brennan don’t bring him up around me, never quite sure how I’m going to react.
Some days I’m fine, able to share memories of him. Other days, it hurts too damn much and since
I’m not great with emotions, I get short and irritable and everyone gives me a wide berth. Hearing
Violet mention him is – okay.

“He was gifted.” I will her to understand how big it is, that I’m sharing this with her. “When you
said you hoped you would get mending as a signet, I understood. I had a similar hope.”

“We ended up with the right signets for us,” she says. I raise an eyebrow at that. “I’m fully aware
that I wasn’t thrilled about the lightning at first.” I chuckle as I work. She taps her fingers on the
counter. “Brennan thinks our mom killed our dad.”

So Brennan told her his theory then.

“What do you think?” I hedge.

“I think he may be right.” I have to continue to stir the mixture so it doesn’t burn and that’s all that
stops me from reaching out to her this time. “My dad knew things. I’m sure of that. You saw the
note he left in my book.” I nod. “His theory is that she was slowly poisoning him. It makes sense.
A little here, a little there, until there is finally enough to stop his heart. Done right, there won’t be
even a trace of it. Burn the body, and all evidence is gone.”

“How do you feel about that theory?” I ask carefully.

“Like I don’t dismiss anything these days,” she replies. A fucking fact if I ever heard one. “That
thing I had to do when I told you I needed to concentrate?” she continues. “I broke into his old
office and stole his files.”
I stare.

“You did what?” I choke out.

“He had a hidden room off his home office. I had a hunch that Mom didn’t know about it.
Everything he had been working on in his time outside of the archives was still there, so she didn’t
burn it. I don’t know if anything will be helpful – there wasn’t time to read any of it – but I grabbed
everything I could and brought it with me.”

“You are as brave as you are headstrong,” I say with a shake of my head. “We will go through it
all. Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” she echoes. “Something else?” She’s in a talking mood and I’m all for it. “I think
Mom sent that storm when I was crossing the parapet.”

“I have thought about that,” I admit. “That storm whipped up right before you crossed and
dissipated soon after. If she did cause it, the question is why.”

“To kill me.” I raise an eyebrow to indicate I’m listening as I stir in the milk for my sauce. “We can
assume my dad knew about the venin. He and I were close, and he was training me. She would
know I would uncover the truth sooner or later. So why not push me into the Rider’s Quadrant and
assume it would kill me so she didn’t have to?” She’s deep in thought. “What I’m not entirely clear
on is if she is actually a villain in this story. All signs point toyes, but she’s done just enough – like
saying things to MIra in my defense and objecting to the children of the rebels having to watch
their parents die – to make me question it. A little.”

My sauce is ready. I take it off the heat and set to adding in a few last seasonings.

“I think there are people in Basgaith who are working for our side,” I say. “They just don’t know
it. They don’t know there’s a rebellion brewing.” I taste the sauce and yep, nailed it. “Regardless,
your mom is the villain in my story.”

I watch Violet for her reaction. There is only understanding.

“I know,” she nods.

We fall into a quiet coexistence for a few minutes. She makes her way back to her stool and I
assemble our sandwiches. I put them in the oven to bake, then grab an apple before I sit down
across from her. I unsheathe a dagger and use it to cut a wedge out the apple. I offer it to her, and
she accepts it. I cut another wedge for myself, then brace for what I’m about to reveal.

“Know how you were asking about Codagh?”

“Yeah…” Her radar is on and she’s suspicious.

“I need to tell you something. And I need you to know I have only intentionally used it on you
twice, and that the reason I haven’t told you yet is because I wanted to do this in person.”

“What is it?” she demands.

I send up a quick prayer to the gods that she won’t hate me for this and cut her another wedge of
apple.

“I told you our relics were a gift.” She nods. “I would guess you thought I meant the fact that
Melgren can’t see us if we’re moving in groups of three of more.” She nods again, eyes on me.
There is no going back now. “Every marked one has a second signet.” Her eyes blow wide. “Some
of us manifest it before we ever bond with a dragon. Others don’t until later. We are very careful
with which signet we show leadership.”

“Rare abilities, when kept secret, are the most valuable currency we possess,” she repeats my
words from months ago when Andarna’s time stopping ability manifested itself. Her beautiful
hazel eyes bore into me. “What’s your second signet, Riorson?”

That fucking last name again.

“I can sense the truth.” Her jaw drops. “I recognize the irony,” I hurry on. “I have been able to do it
since almost the exact day that Codagh marked us. I didn’t know what was happening to me for a
while. I thought I was going insane. If I had been at Basgiath when it manifested, I would have
probably been executed. It’s a form of inntinnsicism, and I had to learn to lock it down on my own.
I was freaking the fuck out about how I was going to pass it off once I bonded Sgaeyl and she
started channeling, but she held back at first, helped me get my first signet under control before my
shadows manifested which is when we figured out the marked ones have two signets. I was the
first to show both. If I had to guess, the reason Bohdi didn’t hear Marcum approaching had to do
with whatever signet Marcum had manifested.”

She’s staring at me, and I can’t figure out which way this conversation is going to go.

“You said you knowingly used it on me twice.”

“The first time I met you,” I tell her without hesitation. Only honesty will suffice right now. “You
were on that parapet and you weren’t supposed to be. I had a thousand thoughts at once, Violence.
Everything from wondering if Brennan knew to wondering if your mom had sent you as a spy. All I
got that day was your pure hatred of me, a low hum of fear, and a determination not to die.” I
chance a small smile. “You did find me attractive, though.”

She is not impressed with my attempt at flirting.

“When was the second time?” she presses.

“When you were in the trees while the marked ones met, once it was just you and I. I needed to
know if you meant it when you said you would keep our secret. I didn’t know you then, and there
were too many lives at stake for me to trust you blindly.”

I shut up then, let her sort through yet another bombshell I’ve dropped on her.

“How does it work?” she eventually asks. “You said it was a form of being inntinnsic. Are you
reading minds?”

“It’s hard to explain. I’m not hearing every thought a person has. It’s more like I can weed out their
thoughts that aren’t trustworthy if I look for them. Something pings in me and says ‘that’s a lie’ or
‘they’re telling the truth.’ I shield against it almost always, only use it when it’s necessary. There
have been times with you when my guard has been down, always when my emotions are high, and
a thought or two has come to me past our usual bond. I swear it wasn’t on purpose.”

“Such as?” she pushes.

“The night you were attacked,” I say without hesitation. “You were repeating ‘I’m alive, I’m alive,
I’m alive’ in your mind and I was so frantic from fear of how close I came to losing you and
confusion about what the hell had happened that I wasn’t shielding. Those thoughts came through
to me as the truth. The night we were together, and you thought ‘I’ll going to die in this bed’ while
I was, well…” I don’t want to say the words.

“Fucking me,” she says for me.

“I wouldn’t put it so casually, but yeah,” I confirm. Violet is insane if she thinks anything between
us was just fucking. “I was so lost in you that I dropped the shield.” She purses her lips as she
thinks. I chance a glance at the time. I only have a couple of minutes before the sandwiches need to
come out of the oven. I decide to hell with it and reach across the table to take her hand – lightly –
in mine. “I rarely use that ability. I don’t think it’s right to sift through people’s thoughts, determine
who is trustworthy and who isn’t. I have only ever used it when lives were on the line. I swear it.
The occasional slip up is unavoidable, but I promise I will always tell you if and when that
happens.” I squeeze her hand and her eyes meet mine. I hold her gaze. “I’m not Dain, Violet. I
won’t do that to you. I will carve another scar into my body if that’s the promise you need from
me.”

She blanches. Literally loses color in her cheeks.

“That’s not necessary,” she rushes out. “I don’t like you saying things like that, Xaden.”

I nod, appropriately admonished, noting that she used my first name this time. She’s sensitive
about my scars. Duly noted. That does something to me, warms me in a way that reminds me she
cares about me. At least… She did. I think she still does. I refuse to use my second signet to find
out. “No scars,” I say. “And no fast and loose comments about them, either.”

She gives a nod of approval. “As weird as it might be – maybe even as foolish as it might be – I
believe you when you say you don’t use your ability freely, and that you will tell me if you read
my thoughts on accident.”

Thank the fucking gods.

“If you ever read me without my permission though…”

“You have my full permission to punish me however you see fit,” I tell her. “I needed you to know
about this, though. Especially now that you’re here and I will likely be using it more as we move
into the open with this whole revolution thing.”

“I can certainly see how it would be of value,” she says and there’s a hint of a smirk on her lips. I
dare to think we’ve made it through this relatively unscathed.

“No more secrets,” I say. “No more omitted truths. I mean that, Violet. I’m done with that.”

“I need that to be true,” she says in a vulnerable moment. I’m still holding her hand. I squeeze it
again in promise.

“You said you think Codagh is on our side?” she asks.

“I do.” I have to let go of her hand to stand up. I find an oven mit and remove the sandwiches. I set
them aside to cool and work to warm the soup. “He marked us in a way that keeps his rider from
seeing us, and he gave us additional signets, all of which are useful as hell. You said he essentially
gave you his blessing today. Melgren is fully and completely against us, however. It goes against
everything I know about dragon law for a bonded dragon and rider to be on opposing sides, but
nothing else has made sense, so why not?”

“Literally nothing makes sense,” she agrees. I plate her sandwich and then ladle soup into a bowl. I
do the same for myself and then sit down across from her once more. “Thank you for making
dinner.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” I smile at her. “You haven’t tried it. You could hate it.” She holds my eyes
as she picks up half of her sandwich. She bites into it and groans which of course goes right to my
crotch.

“That’s so good,” she says. “Like, so good.”

I want to puff out my chest and strut around like a peacock. What the hell kind of pull does this
woman have over me? I take a bit out of my sandwich and she’s right. This is, by far, my best
work. Mission Impress Violet with My Cooking was a success.

“Glad you like it,” I say as casually as I can.

“What second signets do the others have?” she asks as she continues to eat.

“Bet you can guess what Imogen’s is,” I counter.

“The ability to be a pain in my ass?” she asks. I snort into my water glass. “I’m going to guess
leadership doesn’t know about the memory changing thing?”

“Correct,” I nod. I hope she sees that for what it is – that we as a collective trusted her with that
before she ever knew about the rebellion. Her eyes get big.

“Wait. They do know. War Games. When we were stealing the map from my mom’s office. I said
it to the group…” And then she understands. “She wiped their memories.” I nod, my smile
growing. I will never get used to how smart she is. It’s disarming and it is sexy as hell. “She’s
fast,” she continues. “That’s her second signet. That’s what leadership knows about.”

“You are, once again, the smartest woman I know.” Is that another blush coloring Violet’s cheeks?
Gods I hope so. “You – and Command – know about Bohdi’s hearing. He can also change the
feeling of a room. He doesn’t use it much, but when tensions escalate or when he feels like the
mood is too heavy, you might feel a wave of something I can only describe as lightness wash over
you. It’s like he takes away a layer of whatever the bad is and makes it better.”

“Your second signet is also something that directly reflects who you are as a person,” she notes.
“Bohdi is always trying to cheer people up or lighten the mood, signet or no.”

“Exactly,” I nod. Brilliant. Fucking. Woman.

“So of course your second signet has to do with you being honorable.”

It’s a strange contradiction.

At my core, I want to believe I am honorable. My dad distilled a strong sense of right and wrong in
me. Violet has seen it on display probably more than anyone else in recent months. That first kiss,
fueled by dragon lust, I pulled on that honor to make sure I didn’t take her against the wall when
our minds were so addled. In her room that first time, I asked her, over and over, if she was sure
because I didn’t want to take advantage of her. I kept my distance for months, trying to be
honorable in not getting her tangled up in this mess. But I wield literal shadows and I’ve done a lot
of underhanded shit in the name of the greater good. I want to believe I’m honorable. Yet I know
I’m not.

“How about Garrick?” she wonders, and we spend the rest of dinner with me telling her the various
second signets of the others, some useful, some less so.
I realize as we eat that this is the first time we’ve ever done this – eat a meal together. I kept to the
leadership table at Basgiath as much because that’s where I was expected to eat as I couldn’t risk
what it would do to Violet’s reputation or the target on her back if I were seen treating her as
anything other than a subordinate. I like it, the intimacy of sitting across from her, eating and
talking. I want to do this more often. Or forever, if we’re being honest. “How about Liam?” she
asks, her plate empty now. “What was his?”

“Languages,” I smile. “He could understand absolutely anything anyone said in any language.
Duke Lindell would speak with the king or his representatives in various languages and Liam
would interpret for me.”

That’s the first time I’ve talked about fostering in a long time, too. It wasn’t a terrible experience.
The Duke was mostly indifferent to us. It just wasn’t great. It wasn't home.

Duke Lindell wasn’t my dad.

“That’s how he could sign to Jesinia,” she realizes and I nod. She stifles a yawn and I have to do
the right thing here – the honorable thing – even though I want to sit at this kitchen island with her
until we’re old and gray and die of old age. Let the rest of them fight this war.

“It’s late and you have had a long couple of days,” I say. “You should get some rest.”

She agrees and we quickly clean after ourselves, lest Ms. Jade get a hold of me for messing up her
kitchen in the morning. Venin are one thing. Ms. Jade angry is a whole other. I let Violet know
that’s the rule – use the kitchen all you want, just make sure it’s clean or Ms. Jade will have your
ass. I have a feeling Ms. Jade is going to be a hell of a lot softer to Violet than she is with me,
though.

“I need to find my pack,” she says as we make our way back through the halls. “Oh, and where am
I sleeping? I just realized I have no idea.”

“You’re in my room.”

She snaps her head to look at me.

“Xaden, no. I don’t think…”

“Relax,” I say, holding up a hand to stop her protest. “I had a cot brought to my office. I’m going to
sleep there. May as well. I spend most of my time there anyway.”

“I’m not kicking you out of your room,” she says. “I can share with Mira or Rhi…”

“Violet, I have what feels like an unlimited selection of rooms I could put you in,” I say. “I want
you in my room. It’s familiar to you and, well, I want you there.”

I leave it there and pray she will let it stay there, because I don’t know how well “I want you there
so there is less logistics to take care of when you finally agree to let me back into your bed and we
start sharing a room” will go over. Because I have every intention of moving back into my
bedroom soon.

“You shouldn’t be sleeping on a cot…”

“It will save me a trip in the mornings.” I’m not wrong. I do spend most of my time in my office. “I
already had your things brought up. It’s not up for discussion.” She blissfully lets it go and I escort
her to my door. I open it for her and follow her inside. She raises an eyebrow. “I need to get a few
 things. I won’t be long.”

I go to my armoire and find a change of clothes, then slip into the bathing chambers. I need a
shower, but I don’t risk taking one here. I’ll use Bohdi or Garrick’s shower. Or Brennan’s. He’s got
a big ass room and I feel like annoying him but also finding out more about how things went with
Mira. I brush my teeth, gather what I’ll need for the foreseeable future, and step into the rest of the
room.

Fuck.

Me.

Violet is sitting in the middle of my bed. She’s still fully clothed, but she’s let down her hair and it
still makes me want to abandon all propriety and fuck her senseless. I have no idea why her hair
affects me like it does, I just know my declaration that she could win any argument or get her point
across by letting down her hair is the absolute truth.

“I um, am gonna go…”

Cool.

I have lost my ability to form sentences.

She fights back a smirk and part of me thinks she knows exactly what she’s doing right now. I have
got to figure out if there’s anything I do that makes her just as crazy so I can retaliate.

“My office,” I say in a piss poor effort to recover. “I’m going to my office. There are towels and
stuff in the bathing chambers and I had fresh linens put on the bed earlier. If you need anything…”

“I know where – and how – to find you,” she nods, still smirking.

I have to get out of here. If I don’t, I’m going to make a move I shouldn’t make right now.

“Goodnight, Violet.”

“Night, Xaden.”

I practically flee from the room, and I change my mind about using Brennan’s shower. I bypass
Bohdi and Garrick’s chambers, too, and go straight for a room I know is empty. I need to take care
of myself and no one – especially her brother – needs to overhear that.

I pray to the gods I get back into Violet’s bed soon.

Because otherwise, my hand is going to be rather busy.

Chapter End Notes

Collective squeal for the idea of Xaden knowing how to cook? I made up this Ms. Jade
character and I love her. She is kind of Xaden's grandmother figure and I could so see
her being like "ENOUGH, TIME TO LEARN TO COOK" to a teenage Xaden and
Bohdi.
Xaden revealed a lot while cooking, eating. His father was a mender, they have a
second signet, he can discern the truth... I'm in the camp that thinks Xaden has some
other ability. I hope we will find out in IF...

Next update, Violet meets his aunts...

Truly - THANK YOU for reading. Such a huge influx of readers and I love you so
much. Thank you for commenting and loving this story! We're about haflway through
give or take a few chapters. :)
 Chapter 17
Chapter Notes

Badass Violet and "not great at dealign with feelings" Xaden ahead, folks. ❤️

See the end of the chapter for more notes

“I can’t believe you have been keeping this to yourself for three months,” Rhiannon says for what
has to be the twentieth time since we arrived at Aretia. Yesterday was spent bringing everyone up
to speed on all things venin, Aretia, and the fact that a lot of people they thought to be dead are
alive and well.

Except Liam.

A heavy moment came when Ridoc asked if Liam was around and Xaden had to break the news
that Liam was, in fact, dead. He had looked so heartbroken by it and the guilt that I know he
shoulders even though I blame myself, not him, that I had almost reached out to him. I had
remembered myself though and folded my arms across my chest instead.

They believe us and they are with us.

It had taken a lot less convincing that venin and wyvern exist than I expected, and the majority of
their questions revolved around how and why it had been kept secret for so long. We had shared
everything we could, and Xaden had given them a crash course on where we stand in the
revolution.

Basgiath is looking for us. The dragons have been relaying information to Sgaeyl and Tairn and
confirmed they have been scouring the area around Basgiath for us. They are also very much off
course, thanks to Tairn’s clever disguise of our flight pattern and some help from other dragons and
even gryphons. This reprieve won’t last forever, but I’ll take it for now. For now, I can focus on
making sure my friends are okay, help then adjust to their rocked worlds, and figuring out where
things stand with Xaden.

I can also spend some time with my not dead brother and my confused but all in sister.

“It has not been easy,” I say. “I have been dying to talk about it with you.”

The “it” in question is Xaden. We have abandoned war talk and switched to my relationship and it
has been infinitely freeing for me to be able to complain about him, talk about him, ask for advice
about him.

“He kept all of this,” she twirls her finger to indicate Aretia, the revolution, Brennan, all of it,
“from you? You had no idea?”

“I knew he wasn’t forthcoming,” I say. “I thought that had something to do with who my mom is
and being afraid to be in a relationship which, arguably, it did. I was blindsided by all of this.” I use
my arms to lift myself up out of Xaden’s desk chair – which is massive, leather, and extremely
comfortable – and fold my legs under me before I settle back down. “Except I get why he kept me
in the dark. I’m not even mad about that anymore. Any residual anger I had over that has faded
with having to make similar decisions on who to tell what. There are lives – so many lives – at
stake if the wrong person finds out.”

“You’re mad he didn’t let you in,” she says, recapping what we have talked about ad nauseum.

“Mad doesn’t feel like the right word,” I muse. “I’m hurt. I was honest with him from the start. I
told him how I felt about him, tried to get to know him. He kept me at arm’s distance and
ultimately didn’t trust me enough to keep any of his secrets, let alone to know him.” I pick up a
quill on Xaden’s desk and start to doodle on the corner of a piece of paper I hope isn’t important. “I
can remember bits and pieces of the flight from Athebyne to Aretia. He begged me not to die, kept
telling me to fight. He didn’t leave my side while I was recovering, and he said some things I can’t
forget when I woke up.”

Mostly his determination to prove to me that I can trust him.

His insistence that still love him.

That broken “stay” when I was preparing to leave.

“You’re trying to work out if you believe him,” Rhiannon deciphers.

“That’s the thing,” I hedge. “I do believe him. Now, at least. He’s been forthcoming and honest
with me since then.” I don’t tell her how he’s used our bond – that she doesn’t know about – to tell
me everything that’s been going on here, but also to tell me things about himself. Things I won’t
share, but deeply personal things, things I think about when I’m trying to fall asleep. “It’s just…
Putting my heart on the line again is terrifying. I trust him with my life, Rhi. He would do anything
to keep me safe. Trusting him with my heart… I want to. I want to so badly. It’s just – how?”

“That’s something you have to answer,” she says. “For what it’s worth, though? I think anyone
who has seen the two of you together – even in the last twenty-four hours – knows that he is crazy
about you. Everyone talked about it as Basgiath…”

“No, they didn’t,” I cut in. “I mean, maybe here and there they speculated we were sleeping
together, but…”

She gives me a disbelieving look and shakes her head.

“Everyone talked about it,” she says again. “Xaden Riorson was sparring with you, giving you
flight lessons, watching your every move from across the room with pure lust in his eyes. It was so
obvious he was into you, and then there you are, flipping him off every chance you got. Until you
apparently had sex with him.”

“Twice,” I say. “Multiple times the second time.”

“He has to be great in bed,” Rhiannon muses. “I mean, you said you broke a window?”

“Shattered it into sand,” I confirm. “Absolutely destroyed my room the first time. It’s unreal,
Rhiannon. Un. Real. Something about being with Xaden is different. I can’t describe it.” I purse
my lips. “I miss it.”

I miss him.

“Violet, I’m going to ask you something and I want you to give me an honest answer.” I nod,
listening. “Do you want to get back together with Xaden?”
I sigh.

“I do,” I admit. “I’m just – scared.”

There it is. The truth. I want to be with Xaden. I want him more than I want literally anything else.
Seeing him again, being in the same place as him, only proves it. I want him. If he’s willing to give
me all of him – and I think he might be – I want him. I want us. We just have to talk first. About a
lot of things.

“Being scared can be a good thing,” Rhiannon reminds me. “It means the risk is worth the reward.”
I open my mouth to ask her how she got so smart, but before I can, noise from the hall interrupts us.
It sounds like a group of people – and not all of them are happy. “What’s that?”

“No idea.”

They’re growing louder.

“I told you!” a voice cries out. “The Commandant…”

I spring to my feet and unsheathe my dagger in one fluid motion. Rhiannon does the same, battle
position assumed. The door bangs open.

“Riorson!”

The woman stops in the doorway and the group behind her crashes into one another at the sudden
halt in motion. I know exactly who she is, and she was not expecting me. I do not sheathe my
dagger.

“Syrena,” I greet.

“Sorrengail.”

“I tried to stop them,” breathes one of the house staff. “They were too fast.”

I hear the cacophony of guards running down the hall and take assessment of who is standing
before me. Syrena. A woman I assume is her sister. Two of our – wait, our? I’ll come back to that
– house staff. And now, two guards, weapons raised. Fucking great time for Xaden to decide to go
out flying. I mean, I can’t blame him. He’s been grounded for three months and he’s technically
training with some of our riders, but still.

Syrena is here, I tell him.

Fuck. We’re already on our way back. Be there in ten.

“General?” one of the guards asks. I wait for the general to reply. There is no answer.

“Um, Vi, I think he means you,” Rhiannon prompts.

Shit. Right. Xaden is gone. I’m in charge.

Or something.

Another thing to come back to later.

“Stand down,” I decide. “But don’t go far.” I search my mind for the names of the staff. I’ve met
so many people over the last twenty-four hours that it’s hard to keep them straight. And they all
treat me like, well, like they treat Xaden. Like they work for me. “Estelle, Milton, thank you. I’ll
let you know if we need you.”

Whether I have their names right or not, they slink away.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” Syrena says with something akin to malice.

“I can say the same about you,” I counter. “One wouldn’t call it wise to barge into the fortress of
their commanding general without an appointment or at least a heads up.”

“I need to speak to Riorson,” she half demands, half states.

“He’s unavailable,” I inform her. No way in hell am I telling her he isn’t here right now. “Any
business you have can be taken up with me.”

“I’ll wait.”

We engage in a standoff. I note her sister still hasn’t said a word, but the look she gives me is one
of absolute loathing. I’m certain the one I’m wearing is similar. My disdain of them has nothing to
do with the fact that they are fliers from Poromiel and everything to do with the fact that they are
Xaden’s mother’s sisters, the same sisters who tried to take him from his father when he was a
child.

It’s my hatred of them for them that causes me to be the one to break our standoff.

“You could be waiting a while.” They don’t know that Xaden is minutes away. “I’m in command
in his absence. What brought you storming our walls?”

“No offense, Sorrengail, but I’d rather not discuss these matters with you.”

“I don’t think Commandant Riorson will approve of that,” I challenge. Gods it's weird to call him
Commandant. It’s also kind of – hot. “Now tell me why you’re here or leave on your own accord.”

“And if I do neither of those things?” she pushes back.

“Then I’ll have my guards remove you,” I shrug. “If you give them any trouble, I’ll assist.”

“A threat from the littlest Sorrengail doesn’t carry much weight.” Syrena draws herself up to her
full height. She’s taller than me, nowhere near as tall as Xaden, but not many people are six-foot-
four either. “I’m not afraid of you.”

My dagger zings through the air with deadly accuracy and sticks in the stone a hair from her ear, a
reminder in and of itself as to how sharp it is. She smirks at me.

“You missed.”

“I hit my mark,” I say. “I don’t miss. Not with my daggers, not with my lightning.”

“We didn’t come here to fight,” Sylvia says. I don’t think she’s talking to me. “We came for our
people.”

So she’s the reasonable one then.

“We want the same things,” I remind them. “You can hate me. I don’t like you either. We do have
to work together, however. And in this case, it means you asking me for whatever it is you came
here to ask your nephew for.”
I want them to know I know. I want them to know I know they aren’t just fliers from the bordering
kingdom.

“I see he’s shared our family tree,” Syrena says. “Of course you took his side.”

“There was no other side to take.”

“A boy should be with his mother,” she states, and I see Rhiannon raise an eyebrow. “Or at least
with his mother’s family.”

“Xaden was – and is – exactly where he needs to be.” My power sizzles just under my skin,
begging to lash out. I take a deep breath and ground myself. I don’t like these women, but I can’t
kill them. We need their fliers, and I’m not that person. I don’t kill without a very real threat and
even then, I don’t want to. “Now, what do you need?”

The Commandant has landed, comes Tairn’s voice. Try not to strike them dead until he’s there?

I don’t think he would mind that much.

Don’t strike them, Train says again. Feel free to scare them a little though.

“We have come to request back up,” Syrena says. Each word grits out with the effort it requires for
her to ask me for help. “The venin attacks are increasing, and our resources are limited.”

“Tell me more,” I request.

“That’s more than we would get from Riorson,” Sylvia mutters.

“There is not much more to tell,” Syrena says, ignoring her sister. “The venin are attacking our
borders with increasing frequency. People are dying and our resources are dwindling. We are
reaching a point of no longer being able to hold them back. Even if you could spare someone to
erect stronger wards, that would be helpful.”

“Where are they attacking?” I question.

“Mostly near Resson,” she says. “You’ll be aware that the quarterly trade with Navarre is in three
weeks. There will be a lot of traffic in the area.”

I purse my lips, considering. We could spare a small riot, station them near Resson. However, the
quarterly trade is a problem. We’re still operating off the radar. It would take some work to keep
our riot under cover. Yet we could be there, in the shadows, ready to help. Perhaps offering help
would show Navarre we don’t want to fight with them. Because we don’t. Not really. We want to
fight the venin – and they want to pretend they don’t exist.

“Well?” Syrena prods.

Xaden chooses then to make his entrance.

The heavy double doors to his office are thrown open by his shadows. Sylvia, who had been
holding one of the doors with her bodyweight as she and Syrena stood in the doorway, stumbles
sideway. Xaden himself strides in, rippling power and shadows. Garrick, Bohdi, and Brennan all
flank him. It’s impressive or intimidating, depending on who’s side you are on.

Unless you’re me, that is. If you’re me, you find it sexy as hell.

“Syrena,” he greets. “Sylvia.” His eyes fall on my dagger. He reaches out, plucks it from the wall.
“Care to share why my girlfriend is throwing daggers at your head?”

He strides towards me, and I raise an eyebrow.

Girlfriend? I ask through the bond.

Later, he replies as he holds the dagger out to me. I take it, sheathe it. If I need a weapon again, it
won’t be my dagger.

“They have requested assistance at their border,” I say. “The venin attacks have increased near
Resson and the quarterly trade is a few weeks away. Their resources are depleted.”

“What’s your opinion, General?” he asks me.

Okay, I kind of like when he calls me general.

“We send a small riot, station them under cover near Resson, only to deploy in case the fliers are
overwhelmed and or the venin attack during the trade. They are meant for backup and backup
only.”

Xaden studies me for a moment, then gives an approving nod.

“I agree with General Sorrengail,” he says. “We’ll send a small riot until after the trade takes place.
A short deployment. They are backup only.” He stares down Syrena and she stares right back.
“They will return to Aretia the moment the skies clear from Trade Day.”

“I suppose that’s better than nothing,” Syrena states.

“It’s the best we’re willing to do right now,” I say.

“Let the record show that if you ever storm my walls again, there will be consequences,” Xaden
informs them. “A thrown dagger will be the least of your worries.”

“She missed,” Syrena taunts. Xaden holds her eyes.

“I assure you, she did not.” He pushes off the desk he had leaned against. “You will not want to
taunt her, and you damn sure don’t want to disrespect her. Consider this a warning.”

“Admirable, really, the way you stand up for your little girlfriend.”

Scare her.

I waste no time. I whip out my hand and strike, send a shock of lightning to her right shoulder. She
gasps and stumbles back a couple steps. Xaden smirks.

Good girl.

That makes me smirk.

It also makes me flush. I think I might like him calling me “good girl” in another scenario.

“Don’t fuck with her,” he says. “You’ll regret it.” He gives them a single nod. “The unit will
deploy in the morning. We’ll escort you out.” The guards move. “Stand down,” Xaden orders
them. “Violet and I will see them to the gate.”

Rhiannon raises an eyebrow at me. I shrug a shoulder and follow Xaden out. I hear Garrick, Bohdi,
and Brennan step out of the office several paces behind us. I sense Xaden send a shadow back to
them, knowing he’s telling them to stand down. None of us speak as we wind through the castle.
Xaden walks with purpose and the rest of us are left to keep up with his long strides. We walk them
to the gate, and he issues one more warning about showing up unannounced again before he
dismisses them. He stands in the gateway to watch them go, and I take up a spot at his side. Once
they disappear around a bend, he turns to me.

“The first time I leave you alone, you throw daggers at my aunts’ heads?” he questions.

“Aunt, singular,” I correct. “I was only aiming for Syrena.” I can’t tell if he’s about to lecture me
for throwing daggers or not. If he is, he’ll regret it.

“Next time, make sure I’m there to see it?” he requests, letting his smirk unfurl and I feel
something akin to relief that we’re not about to go toe-to-toe over my dagger flinging.

“I make no promises, but I’ll do my best,” I say, and he chuckles. I look in the direction they
disappeared in. “Sending a riot is the right thing.”

“It is,” he agreed. “Don’t second guess your decisions, Violence. You know the right thing to do.
You also know the smart thing to do.” He purses his lips. “And I think you know who has to
command the riot we send.”

I sigh because he’s right. I do know. And I don’t like it.

“Mira,” I say. “Other than Brennan, she has the most experience. This is our first true deployment,
and its high stakes. We need that experience.”

“Exactly,” he nods. “I think we also send Dose and Druin. Dose’s signet is invisibility and Dose’s
is silence. You can see how those would be of benefit.” He looks to me. “Two more. Who else?”

I feel an odd sort of push-pull as I think about it. Part of me feels entirely out of my league. In no
world should I, Violet Sorrengail, be a general in any war, let alone a rebellion against my home. I
feel like I have done next to nothing to deserve such a title, not when there is my brother and sister
who have seen action, not when there is Garrick and Bohdi and Imogen who have been neck deep
in this for years. Yet another part of me, a part that was lit on fire by becoming a rider and bonding
with Tairn and Andarna, can’t see it any other way. Xaden’s confidence in me – and his consistent
reinforcement of that confidence because he knows I’m battling imposter syndrome – bolsters me,
reminds me I can do this.

“Ciaran,” I decide. “He needs to learn to take command from a woman and Mira will see to it that
he does.” Xaden smirks and nods his agreement. I run through the list of riders I know. There are
still so many I don’t know yet. I’m trusting that Xaden will correct me if I choose wrong as he
knows each of them by both name and signet and probably at least where they call home. “How
about Sawyer? His ability to manipulate metal could come in handy if there is action at Resson.”

“I want him here,” Xaden disagrees. “He was on the training flight with us, and I saw his signet in
action. He would be of better use for us right now with weapon production.”

He’s right. Our arsenal is still on the smaller side, and Sawyer can help with that. I revisit my
options. Garrick and Bohdi are out. They are too valuable as leaders, and we may need them to
head up another riot at any point. I also don’t want to pull Bohdi away from Xaden or from his
home, not yet. Neither of them will ever, ever, admit it, but I think they need each other’s presence,
at least for a little while. We have only been in Aretia thirty-six hours. I won’t send Bohdi out so
soon if I don’t have to. Besides, he did enough at Basgiath. He deserves a respite.
I think through the signets we have. Mira’s wards. Invisibility. Silence. Whatever the hell Ciaran’s
is, I forget, he just needs to get over his wounded male ego anytime a woman tells him what to do.
Imogen’s signet wouldn’t be particularly useful, and she’s taken up training Sloane who is
definitely not going to battle for as long as we can avoid it. I come to my decision.

“Ridoc. He’s an ice wielder, for one, and with the abundance of water around Resson, he’ll be
useful in battle. He also needs experience and while this has the potential to be high stakes, there is
a good chance they will also sit back and do little as long as the venin stay away. We make sure
they are all armed to the teeth with weapons that can kill venin.”

“Ridoc it is,” he agrees. “We’ll strap them down with weapons. There’s been some work on a
crossbow with arrows that should be able to at least slow down a venin, if not kill them. Ciaran and
Dose are both deadly accurate with them.”

“Good,” I nod. I exhale a breath. “It’s starting, isn’t it?”

“We knew it would,” he agrees. “I think we’re still at least a few weeks out from a full on coming
out party, but sending a riot is our first true move into the open.” He lets me see the brief moment
of worry he allows himself before that commandant mask is back on. “Go ahead and give Mira and
the others their orders. Then meet me back in my office. We’ll talk about the whole ‘girlfriend’
thing.”

He turns on his heel and walks away.

I scowl after him for his abrupt exit, but then carry on with my task because I want to hear what he
has to say on the whole ‘girlfriend thing.’ It will give me excellent insight into where his mind is
right now. I hope.

I give myself a pep talk as I walk towards the training facilities where I suspect I’ll find Mira.
She’s been working with Sloane and a few of the other riders as well, and she took Brennan down
sparring last night. I want a go at him, but so far, he’s refused. Part of me thinks he still sees me as
his fragile little sister. Most of me thinks he’s scared. Of me and of Xaden should I get hurt.
Andarna helps out with my pep talk as I walk, filling me with positive affirmations and ignoring
Tairn’s grumblings that amount to “she’s got this, shut up.”

I find Mira easily enough, call together the rest of her riot, and issue their orders. Ciaran is as surly
as Ridoc is ecstatic to “be in on the action,” and Mira wastes no time in informing Ciaran he will
shut up and fall in line and reminding Ridoc this isn’t War Games.

She will be just fine.

Then I turn my attention to Xaden. I enter the office without knocking, but he’s not there.

Where are you?

Find me.

I roll my eyes but concentrate. He’s in the courtyard. I don’t tell him I know where he is. Instead, I
weave my way back through the sprawling fortress, cursing him just a little for not letting me
know his change of location because I was infinitely closer to the courtyard when I was in the
training quarters ten minutes ago. I find him leaning against the wall near the gate with another
smirk on his face.

“You found me.”

“I didn’t know I signed up for a game of hide and go seek,” I counter.

“Thought it might be worthwhile to practice this whole ability to find one another we have.” He
jerks his head towards the gate. “Take a walk with me.”

“Where are we going?” I ask even as I fall into step next to him.

“I want to show you something,” he says.

“Are we going to your hill?” I ask hopefully. I’m dying to see it, to see the Xaden in it.

“Not today,” he shakes his head, but there’s a small smile on his lips. “I’ll take you there soon,
promise.” A couple of guards just beyond the gate step forward in anticipation. “Stand down,” he
says in a casual, less demanding manner. “We’ll be fine.”

I wait until we’re out of earshot of them to speak again.

“I’m not sure I’m ever going to get used to this,” I say as we walk the path that will lead us down
the mountain the fortress is settled on and into the heart of the rebuilding town. I’m anxious to see
it. I wanted to get down there yesterday, but bringing the others up to speed and getting a debrief
myself took precedence. “You, commanding everyone and everything in that big fortress of yours.”
I bite my lip and decide to just say it. “Or the way they seem to defer to me in your absence. It’s
jarring.”

Xaden takes his time replying and I know whatever he has to say has weight to it. I’ve noticed that
about him – he weighs his words more now.

“Violet, I’m going to be blunt.”

“Aren’t you always?” I ask.

“No,” he shakes his head. “You would be surprised at how much I’ve softened things for you in
the past, even when my words have still come out sounding every bit the asshole. This will cover
the whole girlfriend thing, and it’s also going to show pretty much all of my hand when it comes to
you. I’m just going to say it, and you make of it what you will.”

“Go on,” I hedge.

“They – the house staff, guards, our riders, all of them – defer to you because I told them to. You
will find, as you spend more time here, that the people in Aretia will also defer to you. You are my
equal in this. I might have the Commanding General title and your title might rank you directly
below me, but that’s not how this works. You and I are equal partners. We make these decisions
together, and we trust the other to make the right decision if the other is unavailable. Like you did
today.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready for a role like this, Xaden,” I admit. I see it, the way something softens
in him minutely when I say his name. He’s told me he doesn’t like when I use his last name, but I
mark it as something to inquire about more. “I’ve been a rider for a year and some change. I don’t
know what I’m doing.”

“You think I do?” he counters. “Hell, Violet, I make it up as I go every moment of every day and
pray to any of the gods that I don’t think are listening that I made the right choices. No one, not a
single soul, knows what they’re doing in all of this. The best we can do is try to make what we
think is the right decision, and hope that in the end, we chose well.”
“It helps to hear you say that,” I say. “You seem so confident most of the time.”

“I’m anything but,” he shakes his head. “Especially when it comes to you.” I wait. He takes a
breath. “The whole girlfriend thing… Part of it was the need to present a united front to Poromiel.
Like them or not, Syrena and Silvia are their leadership. I don’t want nor need them to know that
you and I aren’t together right now.” His use of ‘right now’ is intentional. “The rest of it? I’ll admit
it. I want us to be together. I don’t think that’s a surprise to you.”

“No,” I agree. “You have made that abundantly clear.” The urge to reach over and take his hand is
sudden and swift. I refrain, but I’m not sure how much longer that willpower will last. “I want us to
work this out,” I admit. He looks at me with so much hope I almost toss aside any need to talk
about things and inform him we’re back together. That will only end poorly though. “It hurt,
Xaden, that you didn’t trust me enough to let me in.”

“I couldn’t, Violet,” he says with an edge of desperation to his tone. “I wanted to, and I planned to.
That night, after you got me off the parapet, I knew I had to tell you. You loved me and I…” He
stops himself and I try not to let my disappointment show. “I wanted to tell you, and I would have
told you. I didn’t get the chance.”

“You had every chance and I’m not talking about the venin,” I tell him. “Or even Brennan. I don’t
like that you didn’t tell me about them, but I get it. What hurts is that you didn’t let me know you. I
didn’t hold back, but you did. You didn’t let me know you, and that’s all I wanted. You hide all of
this rebellion stuff from me, but you also don’t let me behind those walls you have built so high
and strong around you. What was I supposed to think, Xaden? I hardly knew you, and then I find
out this huge secret you have been keeping. Of course I’m going to be skeptical that what we had
was real.”

He goes quiet.

And stays quiet.

So quiet that I grow concerned.

We keep walking and I find myself debating on the best course of action. Do I stay? Do I turn
around and go back to the castle? Do I ask him what he’s thinking? Do I remain quiet? I have no
idea. So I do the thing that shocks the hell out of me.

What does he need, Sgaeyl?

I wait. I don’t expect her to answer. I’m shocked as hell when she does.

He needs you to stay.

That’s all she says. He needs me to stay. It’s vague and yet, I think I get it. He needs me to remain
at his side, let him work through whatever he’s working through. I have no idea what’s happening
or why he’s shutting down, but all I can do is stay. So, I do.

I take in the town as we walk. It’s early afternoon and there are signs of life everywhere, mingled
with the signs of destruction left behind. There is a group of people framing up a home. Two
women chat on the street corner. A vendor is selling late summer vegetables. The smell of fresh-
baked bread fills the air.

And people look.

They look at Xaden who nods and greets them politely. They look at me with curiosity or else
skepticism and I’m not sure how to respond. For maybe the first time ever, I’m tempted to tuck the
end of my braid into my flight jacket so they don’t see it, so they don’t know I’m Violet
Sorrengail, daughter of the woman who cost them so much. How am I ever going to win these
people over if they hate me so much?

They don’t hate you, Tairn assures me. They just don’t know you.

He says nothing more. Neither he nor Sgaeyl are particularly helpful today.

They will love you, Andarna assures me, and she is, currently, per usual, my favorite dragon. Just
give them some time.

Got any insight into stone cold silence next to me? I ask her.

He needs some time, too.

I sigh, chance a look at Xaden. He’s physically here, but his mind is somewhere else. I consider
reaching out through the bond, see if mind to mind makes it easier for him to communicate, but I
don’t. My shield is down. If he wanted to talk right now, he would, through whichever means
works best for him. So I stay quiet and walk with him through the streets. We round a corner and I
see it then. My eyes widen.

“We’re here,” he says, his first words in more than fifteen minutes.

“It’s a school.”

A school – an actual school – sits among the still burned out remains of what used to be. It’s full of
life Children of all ages run around the schoolyard playing games of tag or kicking around a ball or
climbing on a makeshift playground. They are laughing, full of life and excited shouts.

They’re happy.

I can’t look away.

In the middle of so much adversity, there is hope.

“Commandant Riorson.” A middle-aged man approaches Xaden, holds out his hand. “I didn’t
expect to see you today.”

“Mr. Ballagh,” Xaden shakes his hand. “We were out for a walk, thought we’d stop by.” He
motions at me, doesn’t quite meet my eye. “This is General Violet Sorrengail. She just returned to
Aretia a couple of days ago from assignment.”

Xaden’s casual introduction hurts. I don’t expect him to say “this is my girlfriend” or any other
qualifier that might indicate I’m more than his second but given what just transpired – or is it the
lack of what just transpired? – it still feels like salt in an open wound. I mask that hurt as much as I
can. Now is not the time.

“General Sorrengail.” He’s careful, unsure. He still offers me his hand. “A pleasure.”

If Xaden can slip into his commandant role so easily, so can I.

“The pleasure is all mine,” I reply. I make sure my handshake is firm and I hold his eyes. “This is
incredible. How long have you been open?”

He delves into the story of how the school came to be, on why it was prioritized, on how they –
how Xaden with a lot of help from Brennan – made it happen. I hang on his every word, my heart
filling with pride and hope and joy and a dozen other feelings as I interact with him and Mrs.
Fraher, the assistant teacher he had to bring in when enrollment reached a point where he couldn’t
adequately teach them all. I learn the kids are split between a younger age group and an older age
group, that they are doing the best they can with the materials they have. I make it my personal
mission to do what I can to help them, to get them supplies. Maybe I can even tutor or volunteer. I
could do that. I could help that way.

I meet some of the kids, too. They largely don’t know who I am, what role my mother played in
burning down their home. Some of the older ones do and they give me a wide berth. That stings as
much as Xaden’s sudden silence. The younger ones don’t. They come up to me, shy at first, then
more open, curious about this new person in their midst. I notice none of them are marked. None of
them are the children of the separatists. Those children are either in Basgaith or still being
fostered.

They absolutely flock to Xaden. The boys – and some of the girls – hero worship him. The
Commandant General himself, visiting their schoolyard. He kicks the ball around with a few of
them, shows off his shadows. I can’t help but watch him. The stress and worry that weigh him
down have floated away and for a few minutes, he’s free.

“He comes by a few times a month,” Mr. Ballagh supplies, catching me watching him. “The kids
love him.”

My heart does something weird and my stomach gets all butterfly-like as I watch him stoop down
to talk to a little boy and girl who look to be twins. His shadows dance around them and they giggle
at whatever he’s saying, his own smile big. Why can’t he be like this with me? Why can’t he let
me have this part of him?

I expect one of the dragons to chime in with their opinion. None of them do. They are a lot quieter
in Aretia.

We’re giving you space to figure it out, Andarna helpfully supplies. I almost smile. Sooner or later,
she’ll get better at regulating what she shares. For now, her still adolescent personality blurts out
whatever comes to mind and sometimes, like now, I really appreciate it.

Recess comes to an end and the kids are called back inside. I find out we’re heading back to the
fortress secondhand, when Xaden tells Mr. Ballagh we have to get back. I thank Mr. Ballagh
profusely, ask him to share my thanks with Mrs. Fraher who has ushered the younger kids inside,
promise to be back soon. I fall in with Xaden and we start back to the fortress. I open my mouth to
thank him for showing me the school, but the closed off expression on his features stops me short.
I stuff down the words bubbling up and remain quiet at his side.

I get more annoyed as we walk.

I was honest. I told him I want to work things out. I told him my hang ups, tried to explain that it
hurt that he kept me at a distance, that he wouldn’t let me know him the way I’d let him know me.
I told him how I felt – that I couldn’t help but doubt us when he wouldn’t let me know him. I
expected a dialogue, for him to continue to explain his side.

Instead, he hasn't said one word to me in over an hour. Not exactly the right move for someone
who just called me his girlfriend and told me he wanted to be together.

Still recommend that I stay? I ask Sgaeyl. Frankly, he’s being an ass right now.
He is, she agrees. For once, I’m on your side.

There’s hell frozen over.

I break once we pass through the fortress gates.

“Enough of this, Riorson,” I start. “You do not get to freeze me out…”

“Violet!” It’s Mira. Her timing is terrible. “There you are. I have a few thoughts about where to
station our riot. I’d also like to discuss just how far I can take it with Ciaran because he is an
absolute nightmare.”

I look to Xaden. He’s still stony and deep into whatever mood has taken over.

“Handle it,” he nods to me. “I have a meeting.”

He walks away. I watch him go in disbelief. Meeting my ass.

“Asshole,” I mutter under my breath.

“Lover’s quarrel?” Mira guesses.

“I have no fucking idea,” I shake my head. “Distract me with war talk?”

I don’t see Xaden again the entire afternoon. I don’t try to reach down the bond, either. This one is
on him. If he wants to talk to me, he can find me.

He’s not in the obnoxiously large dining room when we gather for dinner. I help myself to the
buffet-style meal Ms. Jade has laid out tonight. I’m mad, but I’m starving. I didn’t eat lunch and
after Mira and I worked through her thoughts and questions, she and I had sparred and against all
odds, and very much to her surprise, I’d beaten her. My frustration with Xaden probably has a lot
to do with it. I join Sloane, Imogen, and Rhiannon and am more than happy to hear about their day
of training to distract me from mine.

“Who the hell pissed Riorson off?” Garrick questions as he drops his tray next to Imogen. He’s
looking at me and assumes it's my fault. A fair assumption however inaccurate.

“This one isn’t on me,” I report. “We were talking – calmly, might I add – and he iced me out. He
hasn’t spoken to me all afternoon. I haven’t even seen him.” I watch Bohdi, Brennan, and Garrick
exchange a look. “What?”

“I did it last time,” Brennan says. “Bohdi, you and me.”

I watch – we all watch – as Brennan and Bohdi do a best-of-three game of Rock, Paper, Scissors.
Bohdi loses. Brennan fist pumps to celebrate his victory. Garrick squares up with Bohdi who has
taken the seat next to me and they go through the best-of-three again. Bohdi once again loses.

“Thank the gods,” Garrick says as he settles in to eat the mountain of food on his plate. “You
should have to take a few turns anyway. Make up for lost time or whatever.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bohdi grumbles.

“Anyone want to tell me what’s going on?” I ask.

“Xaden duty,” Garrick explains. “He’s been in a shit mood all afternoon. When he gets like this,
someone has to check in on him, make sure he eats something. Brennan and I have more than did
 our time. It’s only fair, really, that Bohdi is shit at Rock, Paper, Scissors.”

I let them fall into conversation with the rest of the group before I turn to Bohdi.

“I threw the games,” he says in a low voice. “Brennan shows his hand a half second early, and
Garrick always chooses rock. I’m better at dealing with Xaden than they are. Garrick brings him
food and sits quiet to see if he’ll talk. Brennan tries to coax it out of him which more often than not,
only irritates him more. Sometimes, he needs someone to knock the shit out of him. That’s me and
that’s tonight.”

“You’re going to go challenge him to a fist fight?” I ask.

“I’ll get him to spar with me,” Bohdi says. “Whatever is bothering him will work its way out of
him one way or another.” He cuts his eye at me. “What is bothering him?”

“I have no idea,” I shake my head. “I thought we were having an honest conversation about both of
us wanting to get back together. I told him it hurt that he kept me at arm’s length, and that it was
hard for me to reconcile that what we had was real when he had kept so much from me. He didn’t
say another word to me, even after we visited the school and walked back.”

“Fucking idiot,” Bohdi grumbles. “All he had to do…” he trails off and I don’t ask him to finish his
thought.

Despite the way things look, I continue to hope Xaden will show up for dinner. He doesn’t. I spend
the evening with Mira and Brennan, none of us saying it, all of us recognizing this is the last night
we will be together for a few weeks, even after so many years of us being apart. We play card
games and talk and Mira promises she won’t die.

It’s late when I return to my – Xaden’s – room. His office is at the far end of the hallway and the
light is still on. I hesitate in the hall, debate on going to him, see if he’s cooled off or if he’s in a
fighting mood, maybe we’ll just have it out.

I don’t go to him.

Instead, I go through the motions of getting ready for bed. I snuff out the mage lights and slide
between the sheets. I lay there for a few minutes before I can’t take it anymore. I reach down the
bond.

He’s the one with a shield up this time.

Chapter End Notes

Violet slinging daggers at Syrena and making big war decisions is just so badass. So is
Xaden being such a supporter. Until he shuts it all down. He'll explain himself - he's
got a good reason, promise!

Also, a moment for the school and all it represents? I really wanted to get Violet out
into the community. She needs to mix and mingle with the good people of Aretia. Who
may or may not be her biggest fan.

Buckle up, folks. There is a LOT ahead and things may just be turning spicy in another
couple of chapters...
Thank you so much for reading and commenting. I love you all dearly. ❤️
 Chapter 18
Chapter Notes

Weirdly nervous about posting this one... Enjoy. ❤️

See the end of the chapter for more notes

I’m a fucking mess.

I can’t breathe.

My chest hurts.

There just isn’t enough air.

I try to gulp in breaths, try to calm, but I can’t. I sit on the edge of my uncomfortable cot, head in
my hands, falling apart. I tug at my hair, try again to breathe, try again to ground, but I just can’t.
Nothing is working.

My office door cracks open.

No.

Not right now.

Whoever it is needs to leave.

I try to gather my shadows to make them do just that, but I can’t focus enough to make them do
anything more than pool around me.

“Xaden?”

Shit.

“Go away, Violet,” I manage. She’s the last person I want to see me like this.

Of course she doesn’t go away.

Sorrengails never fucking listen.

“Xaden, what happened?” She’s in front of me now and I squeeze my eyes closed, will her not to
see how red-rimmed they are. She issues a single mage light and it’s enough to illuminate the
wreckage that is me. She kneels and reaches out. Her gentle hands pull mine away from my face
and I keep my head hung low. “Xaden, what’s wrong?”

“Go…”

“No,” she shakes her head. One of her hands moves to my jaw and she lifts my gaze. I can’t help
but open my eyes and look at her and all I see is her. The kindness and compassion that make up
who she is at her core. “What is it?” she presses. “What happened?” Her other hand brushes
through my hair and I lean into her touch because I’m weak and I need it. “Talk to me.”
“A dream,” I manage.

“A nightmare,” she corrects. I watch her eyes as she puts the pieces together. “You’ve been having
them for a while, haven’t you? That’s why you haven’t been sleeping.”

I could try to lie, but what’s the point? I promised her no secrets and I know this dream, the worst
one I’ve had by far, was brought on by how I shut down and shut her out earlier. She’s here and
she deserves the truth.

“Since you fell.”

She studies me, thinking.

“That’s what Bohdi meant,” she says to herself, and I don’t have it in me to question what she
means because I still can’t fucking breathe. She runs her hand through my hair again. “Let’s get
your breathing under control,” she directs. “Come on. Breathe with me. In through the nose, out
through the mouth.” She pulls in a breath, and I try to copy her. “Good,” she nods. “Again.”

Slowly, slowly, I start to come back to myself. I’m wrecked though. I can’t function, can’t even
move from this spot. She moves though, and sits next to me, close, so close our thighs touch. My
hands are grasped between my knees, and I just don’t know what to do now. Everything feels
stripped away and raw and the only thing I want to do is lean into Violet and let her take it all
away.

Except I was an absolute asshole earlier and probably set us back several steps.

Gracious woman that she is, she starts to rub small circles on my back. I close my eyes again
because her kindness feels like more than I deserve.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks in that same soft voice. I shake my head. It’s too terrible to
put into words what I see when I dream. “It might help,” she coaxes. “You don’t have to, but it
might help.”

I hear Sgaeyl then, prompting me gently to talk to Violet, to tell her what happens when I close my
eyes. If I do that, it might help her understand, too, what caused me to get locked inside my mind
earlier today.

“It changes,” I rasp out. “It’s always you though. You’re falling or you’re dying in my arms or
you’re calling me a traitor.” I have to stop to take a half breath. “Tonight, it was all of it, but we
were in that closet from when I was a kid. The walls were closing in, the floor was floating up, and
the ceiling was coming down. I could hear my dad’s voice telling me to let you die because I don’t
deserve you. There were other faces, other people, all dead, all saying the same thing…”

I close my eyes as the panic I felt in and immediately after the dream starts to come back. This was,
by far, the worst of the dreams I’ve had. It was everything I’m afraid of in one dream. The loss, the
tight spaces, my dad not being proud of me, Violet hating me, the faces of the people I’ve lost or
else killed. Everything I try to keep buried in my waking life haunts me when I close my eyes and
tonight my inner demons came to drag me under.

I make myself pull it back together.

“You should go back to bed,” I tell her. “I’m okay now.”

She gives me the look of disbelief I deserve.

“You’re not,” she shakes her head. “I don’t know what happened earlier today, but you’re not
doing this right now. You’re not shutting me out.” Fuck it. I rest my head on her shoulder, and I’m
rewarded by a soft press of her lips to my hair. “You need sleep, Xaden. You can’t keep this up.”

“I can’t stop the dreams,” I admit. “They keep coming and they’re getting worse.”

She’s quiet, searching for a solution. Then she’s pulling away and I’m reaching for her, desperate
to keep her near me for just a few more minutes. Except she’s trying to pull me to my feet and I’m
all but dead weight at the moment.

“Come on,” she coaxes. “You’re going to sleep in your room tonight.”

“No, I can’t…”

“Come on,” she says again. “On your feet. Let’s go.”

I don’t have anything left in me to fight. I stand and let her guide me out of my office and down the
hall. She has my hand in hers and right now, in this moment, I’ll go anywhere or do anything she
tells me to do. She lets us into my bedroom and leads me to the bed. The blankets are all tousled
from where she had been asleep, and I add waking her up to the list of things I feel bad about. I’m
not even sure how she knew I was awake, how she knew I was struggling.

“In bed,” she directs as she pulls the covers back. I feel like I’m on autopilot, like something that is
not me is telling me where to go, what to do. Which, I guess, Violet is telling me where to go and
what to do, so of course I’m going to do it. She pulls the blankets around me and then leaves my
side. I push up to my forearms, my senses coming back to me a little.

“Violet, where are you going…”

She’s on the other side of the bed and she’s slipping between the sheets.

With me.

Okay.

Okay.

This is…

Okay.

“What are you doing?” I ask her. “I thought… We’re not…”

“You need to sleep,” she says again. She turns onto her side so she can see me and fuck, I just
noticed her hair is down. “I have a feeling you’ll sleep better in your own bed.” She reaches out and
brushes my hair off my forehead. “With me.”

“Are you sure?” I ask. “I don’t want… Earlier… I was…” I’m still half in that place of waking
from a nightmare and trying to shake it. My words don’t form as easily as I’d like them to.

“I’m sure,” she nods. “Lay down, Xaden.”

Slowly, I lower myself to the bed. I turn onto my side so we’re face to face. She’s gazing at me
with no walls up, no shields around her, and I really really don’t deserve her, not after everything
I’ve put her through, not after the way I acted earlier.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “Today, or yesterday, I guess it is now, I was…”

“We can talk about it in the morning,” she says in a way that promises we will. “We can sleep a
few more hours. You need that more right now.”

She’s right, of course. I’m exhausted, all the time. I don’t know if sleeping in my own bed, with
Violet, will help, but I’m willing to roll the dice that it will. I dare to reach out and pick up a lock
of her hair. I let the thick silver and amber strands fall between my fingers, then pick them up
again. She lets me, doesn’t say anything, just keeps a watchful eye on me. I need to tell her how I
feel about her, but I can’t, not yet, not until I apologize for not just yesterday, but all of it, and I tell
her what keeps me up at night.

Still, I need her. I clear my throat and risk it.

“Violet?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I… Could I…”

The words clog in my throat.

Ask for what you need, Commandant, Sgaeyl reminds me, just as she has countless times before.
This time, I follow her instructions.

“Can I hold you? Please? I think… It might help.”

I know it will. I know, if I can feel Violet’s warm body against mine, if I can feel her pulse, watch
her chest rise and fall with life, I might be able to get back to sleep. She nods and moves towards
me. I move too, and I arrange us so her back is against my chest, her small body cocooned against
my much bigger one. I feel like I can protect her like this, like I can shield her, keep all the bad
things that happen in my dreams from her. I abandon all sense of boundaries and bury my nose in
her hair, breathe her in. She moves closer and I tighten my arm around her waist to hold her there,
tangle my legs with hers. I wrap myself all the way around her.

“Thank you,” I breathe.

She turns her head and places a feather light kiss on my jaw.

“Sleep,” she says one more time. “We’ll figure it all out in the morning.”

She says it like a promise, and I decide to take it to the bank. I stop fighting whatever it is I’m
fighting and slowly, the tension starts to melt out of my body as Violet drifts off, soundly tucked
against me. I manage to fall back asleep and this time, it is a deep, dreamless sleep, the kind I’ve
needed for months and haven’t been able to come by.

It’s Violet’s movement that causes me to flutter my eyelids open a few hours later. She’s doing her
best not to wake me as she slips out of my embrace and to the edge of the bed.

“Where are you going?” I ask groggily. The heavy curtains are closed to keep the light out from
the wall of windows across from us, but I can tell it's the early morning, that the first rays of light
are starting to peek up over the mountaintops.

“I want to see Mira off,” she says, her voice quiet like she’s still trying to keep from waking me.
“Go back to sleep, try to get a couple of more hours.”
Like hell.

I toss the blankets back and stagger to my feet as she slips into the bathing chamber. I’m still sleep-
addled, but it’s incredible what a few hours of decent sleep will do for you. No way in hell am I
letting her tell her sister goodbye without being there to support her. Never mind that it’s our first
true riot deploying in all of this. I keep the soft pants I slept in on but find a long sleeve shirt to pull
on. I’m lacing up a pair of old boots when Violet returns wearing a similar outfit.

“You should have stayed in bed,” she says. “You need the rest.”

“I need to do this more,” I tell her, eyes on her as I pull on my other sock and then reach for my
boot. She only nods and sets to putting on her own boots. I can’t look away, can’t get over the
intimacy of the moment, waking up together, getting dressed. Someday, I vow, we will get to wake
up slowly, nowhere to go, nowhere to be, no riots to deploy, no sisters to say goodbye to, no war to
fight.

I stand and go to the armoire. It’s that time of year where the days are comfortable, but the nights
are cold. I open it in search of a flight jacket or something to avoid a pit stop at my office. My eyes
fall on a flight jacket, but it’s not the one I’m expecting. It’s the one I draped around Violet’s
shoulders that night, the one I used to tell her, to tell everyone, that she’s mine. It’s hanging there,
next to two others, and a couple that belong to her and I know she bought it with her from Basgiath.
Her clothes and mine, mixed together, like it should be. I reach for it.

She’s braiding that hair of hers into a quick plait. I hold her eyes in the mirror as I approach. I
unfurl the jacket and drape it over her shoulders just as she fastens the braid closed. I let my hands
linger on her shoulders, then slide them down her arms. I lean in close, all intentions of not
touching her until she asks me to out the window now that she’s let me sleep beside her.

“I still can’t stand the thought of you being cold.” I press a kiss to her hair, feel the shiver that runs
through her. Good. I still have that effect on her. “We should go. They’ll be leaving soon.”

She lets me put a hand on the small of her back and guide her out the room. My hand falls away
when we’re in the hallway, but we walk a little closer to one another than strictly necessary, our
arms brushing, my shadows stretching to reach out to her. I keep them reined in.

We’re not the only ones who have woken up early to say goodbye. Brennan is there. Rhiannon and
Sawyer. Bohdi and Garrick. Even Imogen and Sloane. Their packs are packed, and their dragons
stand at the ready. I debate on giving some sort of speech or something, but that’s not my style and
I don’t think Mira would appreciate it, either. Instead, I say a quick goodbye to each of them, warn
Ciaran to yield to Mira’s orders, drop a couple of words of wisdom on Ridoc who is buzzing with
excitement. Violet has already spent time hugging him long and hard and she’s with her sister now.
I speak with Dose and wait until Brennan wraps an arm around Violet and pulls her into his side
before I approach Mira. She draws up to her full height, but it’s not in challenge. It’s out of respect
for me, her commanding officer.

It’s too early for me to work out the fact that I am Mira’s commanding officer.

“Don’t make me tell Violet you’re dead,” I warn her.

“I won’t,” she promises. “Look after her.” I know it costs Mira a lot to ask that of me. She doesn’t
like me. I don’t especially like her. But we have Violet, Brennan, and this war in common, so we
have to co-exist. Our lives our too intricately linked at this point. “Get your shit together as far
she’s concerned.”
“I will,” I return the promise. “On both accounts.”

I step back, join Violet and Brennan because that’s where I feel like I’m supposed to be. Brennan’s
arm is around Violet’s shoulder and her’s is around his waist, her head resting on her brother’s
shoulder. The desire to reach for her, be the one to comfort her when her sister takes flight, is
intense. I fight it down. Brennan is her brother. This is hard for him, too. They need one another
more.

The riot takes flight, and we watch until they are no more than specs in the sky.

“Breakfast, then,” Brennan determines.

“It’s too early for breakfast,” Bohdi points out. “Ms. Jade is still cooking.”

“There will at least be coffee.”

He lets go of Violet and the group breaks off to go their separate ways. She stays though, keeps
watching those specs until she can’t see them any longer. I stay, too, with her, both to let her know
I’m there, and because at the end of the day, it’s on me if the riders we just sent out don’t make it
home. The least I can do is watch them until they disappear entirely.

“She’ll be okay,” I say to Violet, drawing her out of her reverie.

“I know,” she nods, like she’s trying to convince herself that’s the only possible outcome. I take a
deep breath. I made a decision as we walked here and I’m going to commit to it now.

“Think we can try that whole talking thing again?” I chance.

“Think you can actually talk this time?” she counters, an edge to her tone. Fair. I was an absolute
asshole yesterday and she should be a lot more edgy than she is.

“I do,” I nod. “Go put on your flight leathers and something warm. I’ll call the dragons. Meet me
back here in thirty minutes.”

For a moment, I think she’s going to disagree. Then she nods and walks off. I summon the dragons,
much to Sgaeyl’s complaints because it’s early and it’s cold and pay Ms. Jade a visit for supplies
before I stop in my office and change into my own leathers. I try to tame my bed hair into
something respectable, then head out to meet Violet. I’m waiting with the dragons when she walks
in, her hair now in her usual crown, her leathers on, and my gods when do I stop being blown over
by how beautiful she is every time she walks into a room?

“Where are we going?” she asks.

“I want to show you something,” I say, just as I did yesterday. The look she gives me is
questioning, but she mounts Tairn all the same. I wait until she’s safely strapped into the saddle
before I mount Sgaeyl, and then we fly.

I take her to my hill.

I want her to see it, mostly, but it’s also a safe place for me, and we need to have a hard
conversation. I shut down yesterday. I can’t do that today. I can keep my walls up, but I have to
haul Violet over them. I have to let her be in the muck and the mire with me if I want us to move
forward.

“Wow,” she breathes as she takes in the view. “This is stunning.”

It is. We can see for miles in every direction from this hill, the ocean on one side, the mountains
stretching out around us, Aretia tucked safely at the foot of them. I like that I can see both the
sunrise and the sunset in stunning clarity, that this place is removed and to itself, my own reprieve
from – all of it. And now Violet is here, making the scene complete.

“This is, obviously, my hill.” I come to stand next to her. She’s gazing out over the ocean where a
spectacular sunrise is erupting. “This is what my archive looks like. Sgaeyl is there.” I point to the
trees. “She shows up as shadows snaking through the forest.” I move my finger to the sky. “You’re
there. The sky used to be a clear, bright, perfect blue. It still is, but better. Because now it’s full of
your lightning.”

I put a hand on her low back and guide her towards a large rock I long ago rolled into place to sit on
when I’m here. I wait until she’s settled to sit next to her. I open my pack, take out the coffee and
mugs I secured from Ms. Jade. I pour us each a share, then take out the cream I also made sure to
pack because I know Violet likes her coffee with cream.

“Thank you,” she mutters when I pass it to her.

Okay.

Now or never.

“I was an asshole yesterday.”

“You just stopped talking,” she says. She’s on the defensive, guard up. I can’t blame her. “I was
honest and you just – went silent.”

I take a deep breath. I intuitively know whatever happens on this hill will determine if we move
forward together or if she issues a time of death on our relationship. I’m leading a revolution, but
this is where the stakes feel highest.

“I have lost almost everyone I’ve ever cared about, Violet,” I tell her. “My dad, Liam, my aunt, so
many people that mattered to me. Bohdi and Garrick, they are almost grandfathered in to me
caring about them because I knew them before. Same with Imogen. Losing people hurts. So, I
figured, why bother? Why let someone get close when you’re just going to lose them? Then you
came along. Brennan had told me about you. I felt like I knew you, even though I’d never met you.
I definitely knew you weren’t supposed to be on that parapet and my heart damn sure wasn’t
supposed to beat wildly against my chest at the first sight of you, but you were there, and it was
like my heart recognized yours.”

I look at her and she’s looking right back at me, listening, waiting. It’s overwhelming, how much I
love her. I will go to the ends of the earth and back for her. And she has no idea, not really. That’s
my fault.

It changes now.

“I did not want to fall for you, Violet. You were beautiful and smart and challenging in all the right
ways. It was like you were hand-picked for me. But I kept you at a distance. I didn’t want to let
someone else in, only to lose them. Besides that, there was the rebellion I was reassembling, the
leadership I was undermining. I didn’t want you involved in that. Telling you not only meant
risking the lives of a significant number of people. It meant risking yours, and I couldn’t do it.”

“I would have liked the choice to decide,” she says softly. “And I know, without a doubt, I would
have chosen you.”
I lose my next breath. I know now, with every fiber of my being, that Violet would have chosen
me, this rebellion, if I had just told her the truth. I didn’t know it then, and even still, I’ve had those
brief moments of doubt, not because I don’t trust her or believe she’s all in, but because I’ve been
wrong or double crossed enough that I look at everything through the lens of “is this real?”

“Doing this, living this double life where I appeared loyal to Navarre but was actually running
weapons and building my own forces, it makes me skeptical, Violet. I told you I’ve only used my
second signet on you twice, and that’s the absolute truth. I have never looked in your mind to see if
you mean it, if you’re really all in. I’ll admit that I have had a moment, here and there, where I find
myself doubting. Sometimes it all seems too good to be true, that you’re here, that you’re on my
side, by my side, that you love me. I have lost a lot. I thought I had everything to lose.” I hold her
eyes. “And then I met you.”

Her eyes widen as she takes in my admission.

“You can,” she whispers after a moment. “Look into my mind, if you need to.”

I don’t look away.

“I don’t need to. I trust you. Entirely.” She’s absurd if she thinks I need to look into her mind to
trust her. She nods, waits for me to continue. “You terrify me, Violence. I can face venin and build
a rebellion without blinking an eye. Letting myself love you? I can’t adequately put into words
how scary that is for me. Because loving you means I have something to lose. These last few
months, with you, but without you? They have been absolute hell. It has been hell to have you in
my head, but not here, with me, to have you as a partner in this war, but not have you as a partner in
my life. I can’t do it anymore. I need all of you. I told you before I don’t need anyone, and that I
didn’t know what to do with needing you. That feeling hasn’t changed. I don’t know how to do
this. All I know is that I can’t not do this. Because you are as integral to my well-being as
breathing.”

“I don’t want to be apart, Xaden,” she says. She’s softer than usual, nervous. My girl isn’t the
nervous type, not anymore, never really has been. It both breaks my heart and strokes my ego that I
can make her nervous. “But I can’t have only a part of you. You gave everything physically. The
rest of it…”

She’s right, of course. I was confident in what I could do for her in the physical sense. It was ‘the
rest of it’ that threw me.

“When I told you you had all I have to give that night you dragged me off the parapet, I meant that.
I still do. Yesterday, when you said you questioned if what we had was real, it crushed me.”

“You kept secrets…”

“I know,” I nod. “I’m not saying it was the logical reaction. I get it. Of course you questioned
everything. Still, I know what I felt for you then, and I know what I feel for you now. I know how
hard it has been for me to give myself permission to love you. I shut down yesterday trying to
process all of it. It wasn’t the right move, but it was the best I could do. I’m sorry, violet. You were
patient and you stayed and you did everything you could to wait me out, but I just – couldn’t. Not
in the moment.”

I pause, wait to see if she wants to say something. She stays quiet, contemplating my words, so I
continue.

“I’m sorry that I hid things from you, and I’m sorry that I shut you out, at Basgiath and yesterday
both. I did what I thought I had to do to protect not just this rebellion, but to protect myself. You
broke through those barriers anyway. I’ll never not have walls up around me after everything I’ve
been through, but I’d like it if you would let me bring you inside those walls. It’s pretty messy and
broken on this side of them, but maybe, if you’re there, it won’t be so dark anymore.”

Her eyes fill with tears she blinks away.

“Can you bring me over those walls?” she asks. “You have flown solo for a long time, Xaden. You
have dealt with a lot on your own. I believe you when you say you want to let me in, but can you?
Can you let go of whatever fear you have of me seeing what’s on the other side of those walls and
let me in?”

Another fair – tough – question. I take my time answering, and when I do, it’s the truest thing I’ve
ever said. To anyone.

“I forgot what it was like to be loved,” I confess. “My dad was gone, my aunt. I was with this
strange man in a strange place, reeling from loss and this newfound responsibility literally carved
into my back. I shut down that part of me, swore I wouldn’t feel that kind of pain again. It spiraled
into a battle with self-worth. I don’t believe I deserve good things, Violet, and you are the best
thing.” My heart actually hurts as I force myself to share this truth with her. “My own mother
couldn’t love me, so surely there’s something wrong with me. That’s what I told myself as I got
deeper into all of this lying and scheming and skirting authority. I told myself I was the perfect
person for it – no one to love me, no one to suffer should I die. Then you show up. You were a
light for me long before you ever started wielding lightning.”

I can’t take not touching her anymore. I take her hand and hold it between both of mine. She’s rapt
with attention and her features are nothing but compassion.

I do not deserve her.

“I can’t promise that I won’t mess up. I can’t promise that I won’t shut you out again. I will
promise to always let you back in as long as you’re willing to bang on the door to remind me
you’re there because I’m going to need you to do that from time to time. I’m going to need you to
beat against those walls until I let you in.” I move one hand to brush back the lock of hair that has
escaped her braid. I love that lock of hair. It’s just a little shorter than the rest, never manages to
stay put an entire day. The flight here was all it took to shake it out of the twines of her braid.
“Please, Violet, give me one last chance. I won’t need another one.”

“No secrets,” she says. “None, Xaden. I can’t do that again.”

“No secrets,” I agree. “You know everything, Violet. More than that, you know me.”

I still haven’t said those three words though. They are on the tip of my tongue, but I sense her
hesitation, her fear of giving her heart to me again. It’s a good thing my dad prepared me for such a
time.

Then I remember something.

“Shit. Actually, there is one more thing…”

“What?” she’s weary, withdraws a few inches. I hold her hand, don’t let her get too far.

“There is one thing I planned to let die with me.” Her guards are going up fast. I rush on. “Brennan
unearthed it doing some research into this bond you and I share.”
“Go on,” she hedges.

Gods, this is awkward.

“I am, technically – but absolutely not officially – royalty.”

She stares.

“Say that again?”

I sigh. Saying it again doesn’t take away the awkwardness. Nor, unfortunately, make it any less
true.

“The Riorson family ruled what is now Tyrrendor as a monarchy,” I tell her. “Some however many
great grandfathers of mine ceded the kingdom to what is now Navarre when the war ended six
hundred years ago, and with it, our monarchy, for all intents and purposes, died. My family has
kept a book of genealogy for hundreds of years though, and my dad wrote my name in it when I
was born. Bohdi’s mom did the same. Brennan found it. Both Bohdi and I would, in theory, carry a
title. He has no idea and I hate every part of it, but I promised you no secrets, so there you go. The
Riorson family is royal, by bloodline.”

She is stunned.

“That’s not… There are no books…”

“History wasn’t recorded – supposedly – for two hundred years after that,” I remind her. “And
what has been recorded has been written to serve an agenda.”

“Bohdi doesn’t know?” she confirms.

“He has no idea,” I shake my head.

“You should tell him,” she encourages. “I got to know him better over the last few months. He
really misses his mom.” She gives me a small, sad smile. “He misses your dad, too.” She squeezes
my hand. “Family means a lot to him, and you’re all he has. Share this with him, Xaden. You don’t
have to tell anyone else, but I think he would like to know.”

“I’ll tell him,” I promise. I lace our hands together. “Can we try this again, Violence? Me and you,
together, no secrets, no omissions, same side of the wall?”

It feels like eternity rather than the couple of moments it actually is before she nods, the smallest of
smiles playing on her lips. That’s all it takes for the heaviness I’ve been carrying to fall away. My
world has been righted, and it’s all thanks to this woman next to me.

“Only honesty though, Xaden,” she says. “You can’t keep things from me. I won’t keep things
from you. And I promise to demand you let me in when you try to shut me out.” She leans in and I
think she’s going to kiss me, but instead, she drops her head to my shoulder and that’s somehow
better. “We’re in this – all of this – t together.”

I kiss her hair, wrap an arm around her to pull her into my side.

“We’re going to get this right this time,” I promise. “I can’t go through losing you again.”

She nuzzles into me and I’m content to just hold her for a while.

“Thank you for showing me the school yesterday,” she says after a bit. “It was incredible. There’s
so much hope in the middle of all of this.”

“That’s why I wanted you to see it,” I say. “That’s also why I stop by when I can. It reminds me of
what we’re fighting for when it all gets too heavy.”

She lifts her head to look at me.

“It’s been really heavy lately, hasn’t it?”

No secrets. Same side of the wall.

“It’s been a lot,” I admit. “I meant it when I said I have no idea what I’m doing. Everyone looks to
me. Everyone needs me. Everyone has an opinion. I was worried sick over you, Bohdi, and
Imogen, trying to make sense of everything we’ve been finding out.” I pause. “Not sleeping.”

“You said the dreams started after I fell from Tairn?” she asks.

“I didn’t sleep the entire three days you were unconscious,” I admit. “I tried, once, sitting up by
your bed, holding your hand so I would be there if you woke up. As soon as I closed my eyes, it all
played out again. They have evolved since then. Last night’s was especially bad. All my worst
fears, all the worst things I think about myself, all at once.” I kiss her hair, driven by the need for
comfort. “How were you there last night? How did you know to come to me? The dragons?”

“In part,” she nods. “I startled awake and didn’t know what woke me. Then Sgaeyl said ‘he needs
you’ and I came.”

Thank you, I send down the bond to Sgaeyl as I pull Violet even closer.

Someone had to help you two along.

I smile into Violet’s hair.

“Sleeping next to you did help,” I say. “I didn’t sleep long, but I slept better than I have in
months.”

“We’ll go to bed early tonight,” she decides. “You need to rest.”

“Does that mean we’re sharing a bed tonight?” I try not to look or sound too hopeful

“I don’t see why not,” she shrugs a shoulder and it’s all I can do not to fist pump like a fool.
“Especially if it's going to help you sleep.”

“It will,” I nod, failing miserably to hide my enthusiasm at being let back into her bed in any
capacity.

“As for the rest of it, you’re not alone in this, Xaden. You never have been, but you are definitely
not now. I’m here. I can shoulder this with you.”

A wave of warmth washes through me. She’s here. She’s with me. She wants to be with me.

“We’re going to win this war, Violence. And then you and I are going to disappear for a while and
have the break we already deserve but will desperately need by then.”

“That sounds like heaven,” she sighs in contentment. “Speaking of heaven…” She lifts her head
and looks at me. “You mentioned a library?”
I full on grin. Only my girl would equate heaven to a library.

“Our library was largely burned, as you know.” She nods. “Some of it survived, and we have been
working to restore what we can.” I reach out, tuck that loose hair behind her ear again. “Want to
see it?”

“Very much,” she admits, and I laugh. I kiss her forehead. I want to kiss her, but it feels like I’m
supposed to wait, like we need to ease into this. We went into things hard and fast the first time
around and it was a disaster. If I play my cards right, we will have all the time in the world for
kissing and wrecking bedsheets and maybe entire bedrooms. I stand and offer her my hand. I pull
her to her feet and directly into my arms. She curls into my chest and yeah, this will work.

“We can call the dragons back, but it’s not a long walk, twenty or so minutes.”

“Let’s walk,” she determines. “It’s not as cold now.” I hold her hand and lead her down the hill.
“Andarna is thrilled,” she reports as we walk. “She’s been your biggest fan during all of this.”

“Tell Andarna I appreciate her support.” My smile is real, genuine, easy. I hope and pray to the
gods that we will be offered at least a few days like this, some time to reconnect and just be
together. War will come soon, and it will be brutal. We need these pockets of good. I squeeze her
hand. “We’ve never done this, have we?”

“Never done what?” she wonders.

“Held hands.”

The look she gives me is curious.

“We have held hands…” I know she’s thinking about the times at Basgiath when my hand found
hers or hers found mine, likely how she dragged me through the halls to my bedroom that night or
when I pulled her through the tunnel to the flight field.

“Not like this,” I shake my head. “Not intentionally.” I squeeze her hand again. “I’m going to be
holding it a lot.”

She smiles at me, and I feel like we’ve already won the war.

“You don’t like it when I call you by your last name.”

The observation comes out of, not nowhere, exactly, but it catches me off guard all the same. I
move behind her to navigate a narrow part of the trail – naturally keeping my hand in hers and the
other hovering near her waist just in case, but she navigates the terrain with ease because of course
she does.

“No,” I admit, “I don’t.” The path widens and I’m resume my spot by her side. “You have almost
always called me ‘Xaden.’ Nearly everyone else calls me ‘Riorson.’ Garrick, Bohdi, Brennan, they
call me Xaden often enough, but even they pepper in my last name. My last name is a constant
reminder of what people believe my dad did, or else they want or need something from me. Be the
squad leader, the wingleader, the weapons runner, the commanding general. You though… It was
always Xaden. Like you saw through all my bullshit right from the jump. So, it hurt, when you
stopped saying my first name.”

I’m confessing an awful lot of things that hurt today.

“It was a way to distance myself,” she explains. “I think of you like that, too. You’re ‘Xaden’ to
me, but you’re ‘Riorson’ to everyone else. You wear a different hat when you’re ‘Riorson.’ You’re
in charge, built for battle. When you’re ‘Xaden,’ you’re, well,” she pauses to search for the word
she wants, “mine.”

Mine.

I lose all good sense.

I stop and tug her to me. She comes willingly, eyes shining. I cup her cheek, brush my thumb along
her cheekbone while I check for any sign that she doesn’t want this, and then lean in.

Our lips meet and something explodes inside me. I pull her flush against me, slide my hand into her
hair, the other arm wrapped firmly around her. She sighs into the kiss as she melds against me,
giving me access to taste her. I decide as I deepen the kiss that I am never going to stop kissing her.
I’m going to stand right here on this mountainside and kiss her senseless until I suffocate to death
because taking the time to breathe when I’m kissing her seems senseless.

“Xaden,” she sighs when she does pull back for a breath. It’s only for a moment though and then
she’s throwing herself back into the kiss and her tongue is sliding against mine and yep, never,
ever, going to stop kissing her.

“Fuck, Violet,” I breathe. “I thought I remembered what it was like to kiss you, but I was so very
wrong.”

“Shut up and get back to it,” she orders, and I work for her so I do.

I don’t know how long we stand there, making out like fools, but finally she has the foresight to be
the one to pull away and actually step back. Her cheeks are flush, and her lips are swollen. Good.
That means she has been properly and thoroughly kissed.

“You said something about a library?” she prompts with that cute little grin of hers on the lips I
was just ravaging.

“I did,” I nod.

I do something then that I have never done before. I offer her my arm and she fucking giggles as
she slips her hand around my bicep. This is the way it should have been from the start. We should
have never been in a place where I thought I had to resist my attraction to her, cut off my feelings
for her. We should have always been in a place where I could court her the way she deserves, the
way my dad taught me to despite his own failed romance. We’re still not in that place with a war
looming over our heads, but I can make room for it. I will make room for it.

And then Violet does something that shocks me to my very core.

“Tell me about your dad.”

I look at her as we walk.

“You, of all people, know more about Fen Riorson than anyone,” I tell her. She shakes her head.

“I know about Fen Riorson, the so-called Great Betrayer, and even what I know about that is
probably wrong given all the editing of history. Tell me about Fen, your dad.”

She wants to know about my dad. Not the general, not the rider, not the man who stepped up and
vowed to help those who couldn't help themselves. She wants to know about the man I called
‘Dad.’ I take a breath.

“I haven’t talked about him in a really long time.”

“I know.” Her grip on my bicep tightens in a show of support. “Bohdi mentioned you might want
to talk about him. I think he’s right. So, I’m asking. If you want to talk about him, I want to
listen.”

“Bohdi?” I question

“He made quite the case for you, Xaden.” She smiles up at me. “I know he’s your cousin, but I
also think he’s a very good friend.”

I don’t know what the fuck Bohdi told her, but I find I don’t care, and that I’m going to thank him
later. Right after I make him tell me what he told her, of course.

“You two got pretty close, didn’t you?” I ask.

“He has become a good friend to me, too,” she nods. “You should be proud of how he handled
himself at Basgiath. He took his position seriously.”

“I’m proud of all of you,” I say, but I add that to my list of things to talk to Bohdi about. He’s
always been there, my sidekick, ready for action, no hesitation to follow me into mischief as a kid,
battle as an adult. I suppose he’s always existed in both my literal and metaphorical shadows,
deferring to me as the older, debatably wiser one. Without me, he had a chance to step up. It
sounds like he delivered. I glance at her as we walk. “You really want to know about my dad?”

“I do,” she nods. “It sounds like he was a great dad.”

“He was,” I nod, remembering. “He was never too busy for me. He was this high-ranking general,
had all these responsibilities, but as long as he was home, he made sure we had dinner together
every night, and that he read me a bedtime story. Sometimes he would tuck me in and read to me
then. Other times we would read in his office. But if he was home, he read to me.” I smile at the
memory. “I think that’s why I like reading now. I don’t get to read nearly as much as I’d like, but it
reminds me of my dad.”

“Our dads had that in common,” she says, and there is melancholy to her tone. I pull her a fraction
closer. The library looms ahead, so I slow our pace slightly, dragging out this time with her before I
lose her to books.

“When I outgrew bedtime stories, we would talk about our days. He always asked me what I
learned that day, so I always made sure I had an answer. He was honest, too. He never tried to hide
what he was doing. He talked a lot about right and wrong and what that looked like. He instilled
that in me, a moral compass, the understanding that sometimes, my right isn’t going to look like
someone else’s. When he left Aretia to declare the succession, he made sure I knew he loved me. I
think he knew, deep down, that he probably wouldn’t make it back. He promised me he would,
though, because what else do you tell an almost seventeen-year-old kid trying to convince his dad
not to essentially declare war? Not because I didn’t think it was the right thing to do, but because I
selfishly knew what it would cost me if he left. It’s the only promise he made me that he didn’t
keep.”

Violet is rapt. She is hanging on my every word and gods it feels good to talk about him, really talk
about him, remember him. I’ve had to keep those memories locked inside for so long. I needed
this. She’s right. Bohdi is right. I needed to talk about my dad.
“Remember when I told you chocolate cake is my favorite food?”

“I do,” she nods.

“The night my dad kicked my mom out, he had Ms. Jade bring us slices of chocolate cake to his
office. He told me how sorry he was for how I’d been treated, made sure I knew I didn’t deserve it
and that I was safe and would never have to suffer like that again. I went through a patch of acting
out right after she left. I was little and didn’t know how to regulate my emotions.” I manage a
rueful smile. “Guess that hasn’t changed all that much.”

Violet snorts back a laugh. I continue.

“Instead of getting upset with me, Dad would request chocolate cake, and we would sit down and
talk about it. Whenever I would have panic attacks about being in small spaces, before we figured
out that it was claustrophobia, we would have chocolate cake. I started asking Ms. Jade to make
him chocolate cake on his birthdays, too.” I shake my head. “The kicker? He didn’t really like
chocolate cake.”

“Really?” Violet asks.

“He knew I liked it, so he would humor me. I learned later that he preferred pie to cake. He did that
for me.” I give a little half shrug of my shoulder. “I think that’s the best way I can explain who my
dad was. The guy who ate chocolate cake with his kid even though he didn’t like it.”

Violet looks like I’ve given her everything she could ever want. Which is, of course, what I plan to
do.

“I would have liked him,” she says in that gentle way of hers and I swear actual tears threaten my
eyes before I blink them away. I haven’t cried since before my dad died. I don’t intend to start
now.

“He would have loved you,” I tell her. It is one of the few things in life I’m certain about. My dad
would have absolutely loved Violet Sorrengail. “He would have loved us together.” I lean over and
press a kiss to her hair. “He would have loved what you do for me.”

She only smiles at me and steals a quick kiss from my lips. Not that it’s actually stealing. She can
have whatever she wants from me.

We reach the library.

“Be mindful of your steps,” I warn as I push open the heavy door. “We’ve done a lot, but there is
still so much to be done.” Rinse and repeat for the rest of Aretia.

I let Violet pass in front of me and stand back to watch her as her jaw falls open in awe.

The library, even in ruin, is impressive. There is still debris piled high along one side and I’d swear
to anyone listening that the smell of burned paper still hangs in the air six years later, but it is awe-
inspiring all the same.

“This is… Wow,” she breathes as she turns on the spot, taking in the restored mixed with the ruin.
I guess, if you think about it, it’s kind of like us. “Xaden, it’s incredible.”

“I knew you’d love it.”

I come behind her, wrap my arms around her, pull her back against me.
“Can I explore?” she asks.

“Whatever you want, whenever you want,” I promise her. “There isn’t any rhyme or reason to the
filing system. We only finished sifting through what we could salvage a few months ago, so it’s
mostly just stacks upon stacks of books that need to be categorized and shelved at some point.
Brennan has been mending it here and there, but his efforts have been needed elsewhere.”

“I’ll work on it,” she says. I can feel her crackling with excitement. Then her shoulders slump.
Minutely, but I notice all the same because I’m that in tune with Violet. “We should probably get
back to the fortress though. Morning debrief…”

“You stay,” I decide, as much as I don’t want to not have her by my side. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Xaden, no, we’re a team…”

I smile at that.

“We are,” I agree. “And I’m saying stay here.” I turn her to face me. She’s worrying her lip. She
wants to stay, but she feels obligated to her role, to me. “In the last few days, you have escaped
Basgiath, flown for two days, revealed the revolution to your friends and your sister, never mind
introduced them to a not dead brother, got into an argument with me, pulled me out of a panic
attack, sent your sister and your friend on a deployment, and gotten back together with me. All
after months of sleuthing around Basgiath. I think you deserve to stay here and get lost in rows and
stacks of books as long as you want.”

She keeps chewing on that lip. I’m giving her five seconds before I’m going to kiss her again if she
keeps that up.

“Are you sure?” she asks. “I don’t mind…”

I brush the back of my fingers along her cheek.

“I don’t mind,” I say. “Stay, Violet. Explore. I’ll check in later, maybe come back to join you.”

“If you need me…”

“I know how to reach you,” I finish with a smile. “And how to find you.”

I kiss her deeply before I go because I fucking can and then I begrudgingly leave her. She’s already
wandering through the stacks of books with a tome in her hand by the time I get to the door.

Outside, I breathe in the fresh air and I smile. A real, true, actual smile.

I got the girl.

Now, I just need to win the war.

Right after I take my dad’s advice.

Because I need to keep the girl this time.

And she needs to know how I feel.

Chapter End Notes

That was a ride, wasn't it? Panic attacks and raw Xaden, return of flight jackets,
deployments, a little Mira/Xaden tension... And then... They got back together. Sure,
Xaden still hasn't said 'I love you,' but you know, baby steps or whatever. Sounds like
he might have a plan, too... So yeah. A ride. That I was oddly nervous to post because
we have been WAITING for this. I hope it met your expectations. ❤️

And seriously, THANK YOU for reading. I told one of you on Instagram that it blows
my mind that people actually read what I'm posting and even more, that those people
like it. Like... WHAT?! Thank you, thank you, thank you.

If you want to follow me on Instagram, where there *might* be photos of my dogs

dressed as Tairn... You can find me right here: @SarahWylandWrites

Up next, some brother sister time, an unexpected visitor, and maybe a romantic
gesture?
 Chapter 19
Chapter Notes

A little action and a little romance, straight ahead.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

I skim through the battered book in my hands. This one is about navigating the sea. I move it to the
pile I’ve deemed “geography” and reach for the next book.

“Dad wasn’t an organized guy, was he?” Brennan asks as he sorts through the pages upon pages of
papers I stole from Dad’s office. “There is absolutely no order to any of this.”

“Some of that is probably my fault,” I offer. “I grabbed stuff and tossed it in a bag. I don’t know
what’s there and I definitely didn’t keep it in any sort of order. I was kind of in a hurry.” I
determine this book should go in the philosophy pile. “I’m assuming you haven’t found anything
useful yet?”

“It’s all half thoughts and unfinished ramblings.” There is a note of frustration in his tone. “You
can probably make more sense out of this than me.”

“Agreed.” He gives me a look. “What?”

“You’re much more of a smartass these days.”

“I’ve been through some shit in the last year,” I remind him. “Including, but certainly not limited
to, finding out the brother I grieved for six years is alive and well.”

“You know why we couldn’t tell you,” he starts. I hold up a hand to stop him.

“I’m tired of rehashing it,” I announce. “You’re alive, and I’ve decided to let that trump being mad
at you for pretending to be dead.”

“I won’t poke the bear, then,” Brennan decides. He surveys a paper. “Seriously, three sentences
and three sentences only on his observations of the moon cycles. The hell was he doing?”

“He went a little crazy in the end,” I say. “I used to think it was grief, but if your theory is correct,
it might be something else.” I place a book in the history pile. “If he was slowly being poisoned, it
makes sense that he would become more and more unhinged.” I consider the book in hand, but my
mind is elsewhere. “Do you really think Mom would do that? That she would kill him?”

“If she didn’t, I believe someone did,” he says. “Xaden told me about the note you found in the
book of fables. Dad knew shit. He was a scribe and married to one of the highest-ranking generals
in service. Someone wanted to keep him quiet.”

I refocus on the book, deem it a history book.

“Mom spiraled after Dad died,” I say, thinking out loud. “She burned everything she knew of
immediately, wouldn’t speak his name. Was that grief? Or was it guilt?”
“It could have been both,” he shrugs. He glances up at me. “How was it? After I supposedly died?
After Dad died?”

“Mom wasn’t okay after you supposedly died,” I tell him. “She’s always had an edge to her – she
has to, to be a woman and a general – but it became directed at us. Dad struggled, too. It was both
the loss of you and the loss of Mom, because in hindsight, he lost her then, too. They kind of split
the difference with the remaining kids. Mom focused on Mira, Dad focused on me. Then Mira left
for the Rider’s Quadrant, and it was largely just Dad and I until he died.”

“Then?” Brennan prompts. I sigh. I don’t want to make him feel guilty, but I don’t see a way
around it.

“Then it was just me.” I put another book in the history pile. “I was largely alone during my last
year at home. Mom was working, Mira was deployed, you and Dad were dead. Dain was gone,
too. I studied with Markham, and I read more books at night. Until I was informed I would be
entering the Rider’s Quadrant and then I trained from sunup until sundown and spent my evening
hours being healed and mended. Mom didn’t have much time and certainly no affection to give.”

“I’m sorry, Violet,” he says and I know he means it. “I’ll never get over the guilt of leaving you to
fend for yourself.”

“We can’t change it,” I shrug. “You’re alive and well, Mira is with us, and at this point, that is the
best we can hope for. We are all together.”

“I was livid when I found out you were in the Rider’s Quadrant,” he admits. “Riorson risked flying
back to Aretia to break the news rather than wait for one of our coded letters to reach me. I lost my
absolute shit.” He gives me a rueful smile. “I asked him to look out for you.” I nod. I know this.
“When I found out about you bonding with two dragons, I asked him to kidnap you and bring you
here.”

My jaw drops.

“You did what?”

“It was irrational, but it also made a lot of sense to me in the moment. You would be furious, but
you would be safer here. Xaden, of course, refused, and doubled down on both protecting you and
making sure you knew what you were capable of.” He keeps his eyes on me. “I didn’t realize he
was in love with you until he showed up with you on death’s doorstep and demanded I save you.
Not that he needed to ask, but he was not going to accept any other answer than ‘yes.’ Failure was
not an option.”

“Everyone thought I couldn’t do it,” I say, choosing to skip over my near-death experience. “Now
here I am, wielding lightning and bonded to two dragons.” I know I sound smug, but I don’t care.
I’ve earned the right to be smug. “Xaden is the only one who never doubted me.”

Saying it out loud warms my heart. Xaden has always been firmly on my side. It just took me a
while to realize it.

“It’s jarring, Violet,” Brennan says. “You were this frail, weak, tiny little thing the last time I saw
you. You’re still tiny…”

“Hey!” I protest.

“You are,” he insists. “But you’re so damn strong and confident now. It’s going to take some
getting used to. I imagine Mira feels similar.”
“Is that why you won’t spar with me?” I ask. “Because I’m strong and confident?”

“It’s because you’re my little sister and even if I know you’re a worthy opponent, I can’t bring
myself to kick your ass.”

I scoff.

“I’d have you yielding in minutes.”

I’m trying to egg him into agreeing even though I know it’s a long shot. I’m also pretty sure he
would hand me my ass, but we won’t know that for sure until he actually man’s up and faces me
on the mat.

“You talk a big game, but I’m still your big brother and the answer is still no.”

“Even Xaden will spar with me,” I continue. “He doesn’t hold back, either. I almost beat him last
night.”

I’m not a fool. I know Xaden holds back, at least to a point. He’s so much bigger than I am,
infinitely more skilled at hand-to-hand combat. He gives me enough to push my limits, isn’t afraid
to put me on my back, but if he really wanted to, he could make me yield within the minute. He
gives me a fair fight though, makes me work for it, and that’s what I need when I spar with him –
to have my limits and abilities tested in order to get stronger for the next time, for the times when
we’re in an actual battle and my opponent isn’t one of us.

“I thought about killing him when I realized he was in love with you,” Brennan admits. “I trusted
him to take care of you, not to fall in love with you. I wasn’t sure I liked it – the leader of this
rebellion, a marked man in more ways than one, falling for my baby sister. Never mind that I
consider him one of my closest friends and confidants these days. It felt like a betrayal.”

I purse my lips and don’t comment. Xaden stripped himself raw while we sat together on his hill
yesterday. I had been thinking about what Rhiannon said, about the risk meaning I had something
to lose, and as we talked, I knew there was no other choice than to risk everything with
Xaden. There never was. I was always going to give Xaden my heart once more.

He has been – wonderful.

He came back to the library in the late afternoon, and we spent a couple of hours sorting through
the mess and making out. He shared a little more about his dad, including the fact that Fen’s
birthday happens to be today. He had asked me for patience if he was a little off today and I had
kissed him soundly not just for sharing that with me, but for asking for what he needed. We had
made quite the scene when we walked in for dinner, my hand around Xaden’s bicep. There had
been actual cheers which made me laugh and Xaden roll his eyes.

I had been true to my word to have him sleep with me last night and I assume that’s just the way
things are now – we share a bed. He had wrapped himself around me once more and while he had
woken me up with some mild thrashing and muttering in his sleep, he had settled with my hand on
his cheek and a few whispered words that he was okay and never woken up. He had looked well-
rested this morning and he certainly needed it.

He just – hasn’t said ‘I love you.’

I’m trying not to make it a thing. I know he loves me. I know it in my bones. I know, when I
examine our relationship, that he has loved me for a long time, that there is a very good chance he
actually fell first. I just… want to hear it.
“If it makes you feel better, he absolutely did not want to fall in love with me,” I say.

As though on cue, Xaden’s voice echoes in my mind.

Still in the library?

For now. I’m going to head back to the fortress soon.

I’m going to take a training flight with Bohdi and a few others. See you at dinner?

If not before.

I know what he’s doing. He’s been melancholy all day and needs some flight time to clear his
mind. Which is perfect for what I have planned.

“Talking to Xaden in your head?” Brennan guesses.

“He’s going on a training flight,” I report. “Should be back in time for dinner.”

“You know that’s not normal, right?”

“Training flights before dinner?” I ask. I deem the next book a novel. I’m almost through the stack
I had gathered for today. “Given that we’re riders and closing in on war, I’d say it’s pretty standard
practice.”

“I mean being able to talk to each other in your heads, smartass,” he says. “I know a couple of sets
of riders who had bonded dragons, and I’m certain they couldn’t talk to one another. I’m also
certain they couldn’t find one another like you two can. One pair of them didn’t even like each
other. They hated each other.”

Wait until he inevitably finds out Xaden and I can share our points of view with one another.

“I don’t pretend to understand it,” I say. “I just know that whatever it is that bonds Xaden and I is
strong. It goes beyond reason.”

“I’m still researching,” he says. “I haven’t found anything.”

“Maybe there isn’t anything,” I shrug. The next book is geography-based. “Maybe Xaden and I are
just – bonded.” I’m curious about our bond, too, but I’m not going to waste my time questioning it.
Besides, there’s something else I want to know about before I head back to the castle. “Tell me
about Angelique.”

“Fucking Riorson,” he grumbles.

“Tell me about her,” I prompt, fighting back the smirk that tries to escape at his grumbling about
Xaden telling me he has a girlfriend. “Will I like her?”

“I think you will,” he nods. “She has two kids, boys. They’re pretty great. She’s laid back, calm.
She knows what I’m doing, knows I’ve been presumed dead for a long time. I think she’s
understandably afraid of what’s to come, but she trusts me to come home safe, to keep her and the
boys safe.” He smiles. “She’s looking forward to meeting you.”

“Soon,” I say because I want to meet this woman immediately. I will be the one who determines if
she’s good enough for my brother, thank you very much.

“Soon,” he echoes. “Before Mira comes back, because I care too much about her to introduce her
to both of you at the same time. Talk about an inquisition.”

I consider throwing the book I have in my hands at him, but it’s old and I’d rather not damage it.
Instead, I move it to the history pile and determine not only that I have done enough today, but that
Xaden should be out of the fortress by now which is imperative for my next to-do item.

“I’m headed back to the fortress,” I tell Brennan. “You staying or coming?”

“I’m going to stay,” he decides. “I almost have some order to this batch of papers, may as well see
it through. See you at dinner?”

“See you at dinner,” I echo.

The walk back to the fortress takes twenty minutes. It’s chilly, the air crisp. I have a feeling there
will be a thick marine layer in the next couple of hours which is something I hope I catch a glimpse
of. I love how it looks, gray and mysterious, like the ocean is trying to creep even further into
town. The trees are turning colors more and more by the day, creating a stunning mountain scape,
and fall is truly settling in. I can’t get over the views around Aretia.

Feels like home, doesn’t it? Tairn asks.

It does, I admit. Something else I’ve been thinking about in quiet moments – how at home I feel
here, how quickly I’ve adapted to being here after just mere days.

How Xaden said ‘welcome home’ when I first arrived. I didn’t truly grasp it then, tired from flying
and relieved to be in his arms, but I think about it a lot now, what he meant, what I want it to mean.
I suppose that goes on the ‘after war’ list.

I successfully manage to not run into anyone on my mission to get to the kitchen. Ms. Jade is there,
chopping vegetables in prep for whatever she’s making for dinner tonight. I have hope that it’s a
hearty stew. It would go perfect with the weather.

“Ms. Violet,” she greets. “I took the liberty of putting your supplies out.”

“Thank you,” I say with a smile. I like that she doesn’t call me ‘general.’ She doesn’t call Xaden,
Bohdi, or Brennan by their titles, either. I suppose she’s been taking care of them long enough that
she’s earned the more personal ‘Mr. first name’ title, even if Xaden repeatedly asks her to drop the
‘Mr.’ I kind of enjoy the constant push-pull between them. It exasperates him and I think she
enjoys ruffling his feathers. I get it. It’s fun to do. “I’ll clean up after myself, promise.”

“I’ll stick around in case you need help,” she determines, and I suppress a smile. She adores Xaden
and she’s warming up to me a little more each day. She was skeptical when I pulled her aside this
morning to ask if I could use the kitchen this afternoon, but she gave in pretty quickly when she
heard what I wanted to do.

“What are you working on?” I ask conversationally as I wash my hands.

“Beef stew,” she says and I beam.

“Just what I wanted.”

I get to work.

I think greeting Xaden after he’s been out training might be my new favorite thing to do. He’s
windblown and relaxed when Sgaeyl drops him off in the rotunda. Best of all, he’s headed straight
for me with a big smile, his time in flight clearly lifting his spirits.

“Couldn’t wait until dinner, Violence?” he asks.

“Something like that,” I say as he reaches for me. I let him pull me into his arms and I wrap my
own around his neck. He runs his hand up my back to bring me closer and if he wasn’t so tall, I’d
do the same. “How was the flight?”

“Good,” he says. “Really good, actually.” He pulls away, but just so he can lean down and kiss me.
It’s a short kiss, sweet and to the point. A hello kiss. I add that to the list of things Xaden and I
haven’t really done – just kiss each other in greeting or, last night, goodnight. It was all heat and
desire before. It’s almost jarring now, to be able to just be together. No hiding, no denying
feelings, no secrets. “How were things here?”

“Relatively quiet,” I report. I fall in next to him as he starts to walk. “A report came in from the
pair of riders we sent west. It sounds like they have recruited about a dozen infantry to our side.”

“That’s substantial,” Xaden muses.

“It is,” I agree. “I left the report on your desk. According to our riders, the infantry has ‘heard
things’ about ‘creatures that operate under an unknown magic.’ If news is getting to them that far
west…”

“Navarre cares less and less about its people the further west and south you get from Basgiath,”
Xaden says. “I’m counting on that to help build our ranks.” He grins at me. “Add this to my list of
things that are hotter than they should be when it comes to you.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“You have a list?” I inquire. “What, exactly, is on it?”

“It’s a lengthy list.” He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me into his side. I like this flirty
side of him only I get to see. He’s so restrained and measured most of the time that seeing him let
go of that feels special. “There’s you throwing daggers with deadly accuracy. You armed to the
teeth. You standing up to me.” His lips brush my temple. “You talking war.”

I flush and he chuckles because he knows what he’s doing to me.

“You keep this up, I might have to throw daggers at you to cool you off.”

“Did you not hear what I said, Violence?” I don’t know how it happens, but I’m pressed up against
the wall and Xaden has me trapped. Or as trapped as he ever does because I could get away if I
wanted to. I do not want to. “I find that hot.”

His kiss is searing, and I am all in. I throw myself into it as though I can make up for lost time. He
pulls his signature move, grabs the back of my thighs, and hoists me up, further pressing me
between him and the wall. I wrap my legs around him and somehow manage to deepen the kiss.
I’m a breath away from suggesting we take this somewhere more private. Dinner and everything
else I have planned can wait.

“There you are.” Xaden pulls away with a groan, but he doesn’t put me down. We both turn to look
in the direction of the interruption. Brennan is standing there and wow, he looks like our dad in the
moment as he eyes us with a disapproving if not slightly mortified expression. “Riorson, if you’re
finished mauling my sister, you may be interested to know there is a single dragon rider headed this
way. According to my dragon, it’s none other than Professor Carr.”

That gets both of our attention.

“How far out is he?” Xaden asks, all business even as he gently puts me on my feet again. I avoid
Brennan’s eyes because yeah, getting caught by your big brother is awkward.

“An hour or so,” Brennan reports.

“We’re sure he’s alone?” Xaden is already in motion. Both Brennan and I follow him.

“That’s the intel I have.”

“What does he want?” I wonder.

“No fucking idea,” Xaden says as we reach the rotunda. “I’m going to head him off.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“No…”

“Xaden,” I stop his protest. “I’m coming with you.” He holds my eyes and I stare right back. He
does not get to put himself in danger and not let me go with him. “We’re a team,” I remind him.
“I’m going with you. I’ll call the dragons.”

“Fine,” he relents, and I send out the call to Tairn and Sgaeyl, tell Andarna to hang back although I
know she won’t.

“We need backup,” he determines. “Brennan, send Bohdi. You're in command until we’re back.”

Everything happens fast after that. Brennan goes off in search of Bohdi. Xaden checks himself for
weapons. I do the same. Bohdi arrives at a run minutes later. He’s barely winded and I might hate
him for that.

“The fuck does Carr want?” he asks as the dragons approach. It’s as impressive of a sight s ever.
Bohdi’s orange scorpiontail may not be as big as Sgaeyl or Tairn, but he’s still massive, still
powerful. Add in Andarna who of course did not stay back and it’s a formidable scene.

“We’ll find out,” Xaden said. He looks to me. “Stay with me. Whatever happens, you stay with
me.” He motions at Bohdi. “That goes for you, too. I don’t trust him.”

“A formidable trio,” Bohdi nods. “Happy to be included.”

The dragons land and we’re on their backs and in the air within the minute. We fly three abreast,
Xaden in the middle.

Differing to the commandant? I ask Tairn, just to rib him.

War makes one do stupid things.

I snort back a laugh. I have a feeling it’s not war, but Sgaeyl that has him flying in line instead of
ahead. He might be big and bad and both respected and feared by the other dragons, but Sgaeyl
runs the show.

Kind of like you and the commandant, Andarna muses. Tairn makes a disgruntled sound at such a
suggestion.
Focus, he snaps at us. I roll my eyes but fall quiet.

We’re close, Xaden says a few minutes later. Sgaeyl says it's just Carr. She’s choosing to trust his
dragon.

I wish they would come off the information they know about the other dragons, I grumble.

Fucking same.

We’ll share when it’s appropriate, Sgaeyl says.

And not a moment before, Tairn agrees.

Fucking dragons, both Xaden and I grumble at the same time.

He’s landing on a nearby hilltop, Tairn reports. We’ll meet him there.

I know Xaden got the same message from Sgaeyl and from the looks of it, Bohdi’s dragon relayed
the same info. They bank right and I see Carr’s dragon first, perched and waiting. My anxiety
creeps up as we soar closer. Carr stands proud, waiting. I keep my eyes on him as we dismount. At
first glance, he appears unarmed. Bohdi and I flank Xaden who has already unfurled his shadows
to swarm around him. One of them brushes against my hand and I fight down a smile.

“What’s the plan?” Bohdi mutters.

“Find out what he wants,” Xaden says. “He doesn’t go back to Basgiath if he’s a threat.”

“Stay together,” I remind them, mostly Bohdi, because Xaden sure as hell isn’t letting me out of
his sight. I look ahead at Carr who is waiting for us with as much patience as though he were
waiting for a lunch date. “Shall we?”

We move as a unit, a lethal one. All three of us could kill him without much effort.

“I was right,” Carr greets us. “I suspected. I’ve suspected for months…”

“State your business,” Xaden demands. He sends his shadows out to snake around Carr. If Carr is
bothered by them, he doesn’t let on.

“I’m on your side,” he says. “I was on your father’s side. I have never agreed with command’s
decision to allow so many innocents to die in an effort to keep our way of life safe. I want to help. I
can help. Now that Sorrengail and Durran have left Basgiath, you need eyes and ears, do you not?
Who better than me?”

Xaden says nothing. I know what he’s doing. He’s unleashed his second signet and is shuffling
through Carr’s mind to determine what’s true. I wait, let my lightning crackle along my skin, my
own reminder to Carr of what I can do. On the other side of him, Bohdi stands ready, a dagger in
hand, his other casually ready to grab for one of the two swords strapped across his back. Bohdi’s
signets may be useful instead of lethal, but that doesn’t mean Bohdi himself isn’t built to kill when
needed.

“He’s telling the truth,” Xaden determines. “Why now, though? Why are you putting yourself
forward now? You were around six years ago. You knew the truth then, too.”

“I was a different man then,” Carr says. “My desire has always been to help those outside our
wards. I lacked the courage before.” He draws himself to stand even taller. “I don’t now.”
Xaden is silent again. He’s rifling through his mind once more.

Still the truth, he says to me.

“How did you find us?” I ask.

“I made an educated guess,” he replies. “I knew Fen Riorson.” He looks at Xaden when he says
this. “I knew the kind of father he was. You, Commandant, are just like him. I say that as the
highest of honors.” Xaden says nothing, but I see how his jaw tightens. I want to reach out for him,
comfort him, but I don’t, not in present company. “I had hoped you would manifest mending as
your own signet, but the shadows make sense. You have been moving in secret since before your
father was taken from you, sleuthing in hallways and listening at doors to learn what was going on,
then keeping secrets. So many secrets.”

Xaden tenses next to me.

You okay? I ask him as Bohdi flickers his eyes at him in concern.

Fine.

He’s not, not entirely, but now isn’t the time to press him.

Carr shifts his gaze to Bohdi.

“And of course, you, Mr. Durran, manifested magnified hearing. You spent an awful lot of your
childhood trying to listen in too, didn’t you?” He doesn’t wait for Bohdi to answer. “I liked your
mom. She was smart, quick-witted, an excellent strategist. Your father was a good man, too.
Brave, maybe recklessly so. He loved your mother very much. He was a good friend to your Fen,
too. You may take after your mother’s family, but I very much see your father in you.”

Then he’s shifting his eyes to me.

“You are not your parents are you though, Ms. Sorrengail? I suppose it may seem like it, on first
glance. Your father was intelligent, your mother is brave, cunning. You though… You have the
best of them, but something that is innately you. I told you during our first lesson that nature likes
all things in balance. You were treated with kid gloves your whole life, yet you bond with one of
the strongest dragons to ever fly, manifest a signet so rare I had to go far back in our books to find
the last lightning wielder.”

Xaden shifts closer to me, ready to act if he needs to.

“Of course, that balance seems to extend to you and Commandant Riorson, doesn’t it?” he
continues. “Your lightning, his shadows. The two of you together are literally light and darkness.
Should your other dragon start channeling, I suspect it will be a signet that balances out another
aspect of your being – of your relationship.”

Does he know about your second signet? I ask Xaden with a sense of urgency.

He suspects, but he doesn’t know for sure, Xaden replies. I’m not sure what his play is here.

Me either.

Then I remember something.

“You called Xaden and I a formidable enemy.” Xaden and Bohdi both look to me, but I’m looking
at Carr. “That first morning we trained together. You told me to keep my loyalties clear. ‘You and
Riorson both have exceptional, lethal power, power than any rider would be envious of.’ You said
that command couldn’t afford to let us exist. What did you mean?”

“Exactly that.” Carr has the balls to shrug. “Individually, both of you have signets and abilities that
are valuable, powerful. Together? Well, Violet, you can control the sky.” Something about those
words tug at me, but I’m not sure why. “Riorson controls the very thing people try to hide within.”

“My loyalty is no longer to Navarre,” I say. I do reach out to Xaden this time. I take his hand and
he laces his fingers through mine. A message, sent. “Any lethal power I have belongs to this
rebellion.”

Add that to things hotter than it should be.

Not the time, I snip back. He smirks and squeezes my hand.

“Are they still looking for Violet?” Bohdi has the foresight to ask. I hate that he doesn’t think of
himself as worthy enough to be hunted for.

“Of course they are,” Carr nods. “They are still looking for the Cole boy, too. His father is furious.
I don’t think they will find him though, will they?”

“Markum Cole made his choices,” Xaden says.

“They have riots out searching far and wide for the lot of you. The story they are running with is
that Mira Sorrengail has persuaded several of you to join her to flee Navarre for unspoken –
publicly at least – political reasons.”

“Command thinks Mira is staging a coup,” I say.

“No, Command wants the public to think Mira is staging a coup,” Carr corrects. “They can’t agree
amongst themselves as to what could possibly make several second and third year – and one first
year – riders take off under the cover of night. They certainly can’t determine why it’s so hard to
find you. However, with Mira missing as well, it stands to reason that she’s the ringleader in all of
this, does it not?”

“They’re idiots,” Xaden says. “Their limited thinking will be their downfall.”

“Precisely,” Carr nods. “As far as I know, they are nowhere near Aretia in their search for you.
They also still assume Riorson is actually dead. That lie has, at least, held.”

A fucking miracle, Xaden says to me.

We’re safe for a little while longer, I reply.

The thought sends both a thrill and a chill through me.

“What happens now?” I ask.

“I go back to Basgiath and feed you what information I can,” Carr says. “I’ll rely on the dragons
and coded letters.”

Xaden is once more shuffling through Carr’s mind. I see the way he concentrates, and I innately
know this signet doesn’t come as naturally to him as his shadows. He has to work for this one
more, which, in turn, means I would know if he were to use it on me. He has to focus too much to
be subtle.

“To be clear, you betray us, you’re a dead man,” Xaden informs him. “I’ll see to it myself.”

Carr’s smile is sad. There is no other word for it.

“I had a daughter,” he reveals. “She was a bright young thing, eager to take on the world, to learn.
She was to be a healer. She went into the Healer’s Quadrant ten years ago now. Her skills were
unparalleled, but she wanted more. Her intentions were good – more power, meant more ability,
and more ability meant she could heal more people. She crossed paths with the venin, became one,
and in turn, lost her soul.” I suck in a breath. His sad smile grows even sadder. “Word is she died a
couple of years back, during a raid. The fliers got her.” He shakes his head as though to dismiss the
memory. “I saw what my perfect little girl became. I don’t want another loved one to go to through
that.”

The three of us are left speechless. He tips an imaginary hat at us.

“I’ll be in touch.”

And then he’s on his dragon and flying off.

Do you trust him? I ask the dragons.

Begrudgingly, Tairn replies.

We trust his dragon, Sgaeyl corrects.

I suppose that’s good enough for now.

“The fuck just happened?” Bohdi asks.

Xaden breaks from watching Carr’s retreating figure and it’s only then that I realize he’s been deep
in thought for the last couple of minutes.

“I always had a sneaking suspicion Carr knew things,” he says. “I didn’t trust any of the professors,
but I trusted him a little more.” He looks at me. “It’s the only reason I let him take you so far from
Basgiath to train without me. If I thought you were in danger, I would have intervened somehow.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t think he’s the only one, either. Things I’ve picked up, noticed… I
think there are others. We might be able to use Carr to figure out who our friends are.”

“They think Mira is responsible for our disappearance,” I fret. “If she’s captured…”

“They will have a hard time getting hands on her,” Xaden assures me. “We know from both Carr
and our own intel that Navarre is very much on the wrong path when it comes to hunting you all
down. We continue to be safe in Aretia.”

“Why is that?” Bohdi wonders. “Wouldn’t it be obvious to check Aretia? Three of us that are
missing call this place home.”

“That’s the thing about leadership,” Xaden says. “They are so brainwashed and narrow-minded in
their beliefs and ways of thinking that they can’t and won’t consider that there could be other
options. Their own stupidity will be the thing that brings them to their knees.”

We let that hang heavy between the three of us.

“Let’s head back,” Xaden decides after a few moments. “Update the others, see what’s left for
dinner.” He puts a gentle hand on my back as we turn towards our dragons. Bohdi notes the easy
affection and smiles at me. He gives a slight nod of approval and I smile back. He really does care
about Xaden.

The flight back to Aretia feels shorter even though it's the same distance. Brennan and Garrick are
waiting when we arrive. Dinner becomes a working meeting when we realize we timed our arrival
with Ms. Jade calling us to the table and we spend the next couple of hours debating over Carr’s
loyalty. There is some lingering doubt, especially from those who don’t know about Xaden’s
second signet, but in the end, they decide to trust him. Ms. Jade catches my eye at one point and
raises an eyebrow. I give her a minute shake of my head. I don’t want to follow through on my plan
in front of everyone else.

It’s another couple of hours before the day’s excitement has died down. Xaden ends up sparring
with first Bohdi and then Brennan while I spend some time with Rhiannon and get an update from
Imogen on how Sloane’s training is going. She’s a natural in the air, but her dragon isn’t
channeling yet, nor has she manifested a second signet. Neither of those things are concerning, not
yet. She only just bonded.

Eventually, Brennan slips off to visit Angelique and I lounge in my – Xaden’s? Ours? – bedroom
with the door propped open, waiting to hear Garrick and Bohdi leave Xaden’s office. I have learned
they and usually Brennan, too, like to congregate at the end of the day and just hang out. It’s
endearing that they still make time to do it when our days are consumed with war prep. It’s
something they all need.

When I finally hear their footsteps, I spring into action. It takes me almost a half hour to gather
everything before I’m finally – finally, I wanted to do this hours ago – tapping on the office door to
announce my presence.

“You don’t have to knock, Violence,” Xaden says as he writes something down on a piece of
parchment. “This is your office, too.”

It’s not. It’s his. That’s a line I’m going to make firm. This was Fen’s office. It’s still largely
decorated the way Fen left it from what I’ve heard from Garrick. Xaden and I both need a place
that feels like it’s just ours, no matter how much we share. I’m claiming the library. He can keep
his office.

“I brought you something.”

Gods, why am I so nervous?

Because I could be opening an old wound, that’s why.

He looks up and it takes him a moment to register that I’m standing there, holding a plate in each
hand, each with a substantial slice of chocolate cake. Everything about him softens.

“Violet… What…”

‘It’s your dad’s birthday.” I use my hip to close the door behind us, use magic to lock it for good
measure, just in case one of the buffoons he calls friends – my brother included – decides to barge
in like they tend to do. “So I made a chocolate cake.”

Xaden Riorson is speechless.

I never thought I’d see the day.

“You did… what?”

I can’t tell if he’s upset or surprised or all of the above as I approach him.

“I made a chocolate cake,” I repeat. “I thought you might want to mark his birthday.”

I round the desk to his side and place the plates on his desk. I wait, letting him work through
whatever is going on in his mind as he looks at the cake with a dumbfounded expression, then
looks to me with a similar one.

“You – baked a cake?” he clarifies.

“I did,” I nod. “I’m a little rusty, but I gave it my best effort.”

He swivels his chair towards me and reaches out. He brings me between his legs, wraps his arms
around my waist, and buries his face in my chest. I hold him, run a hand through his hair, give him
the time and space to process whatever he’s feeling. It takes several minutes for him to finally pull
away. He keeps his hands on my hips as he looks up at me. His eyes are damp, and I don’t know if
he cried or if he came close to it, but I want to kiss it away, take away the unfair heartache he’s
been handed in this life.

I want him to know how thankful I am that he’s letting me see him this vulnerable.

“I can’t believe you did that.”

“I hope I didn’t overstep…” I worry.

“Violet, you made me a chocolate cake.” I hear the wonder in his tone. “No one has ever…”

He can’t finish his words, but he doesn’t have to. This man has been alone for six years, despite the
crowd of people always around him, always needing him. He is not alone anymore, and I won’t
allow him to forget it.

“Of course I did,” I say as I run my hand through his hair again. “Turns out, I really love you, so
you’re going to have to get used to gestures like this.”

He pulls me right back in. This time, I settle in his lap and wrap my arms around him. He tucks his
face into the crook of my neck and again, I just hold him, let him work out whatever it is he needs
to work out. He presses a kiss to my collarbone before he pulls away again. He keeps one arm
around me, wipes at his eyes with the other.

“Thank you, Violet,” he says in a rough voice. “I… This is…” His words aren’t coming, but I don’t
need them to.

“It may not be any good,” I warn. “I’m out of practice.”

“This will be the best piece of chocolate cake I’ve ever had,” he informs me. “It could taste like
dirt for all I care.”

“I really hope it doesn’t…” He chuckles and reaches for a fork. He offers it to me, then picks up
the other. I hold my breath as he digs in.

“This definitely does not taste like dirt,” he informs me. “It’s fantastic, Violet. Truly.”

Relieved, I take a bite of my slice. I don’t know that I would call it fantastic, but it doesn’t suck.
“I can’t believe you did this,” he says again. “This means – everything.”

I only kiss his cheek. It is now my mission to make sure things like this are a common enough
occurrence in his life that he isn’t so caught off guard when they happen.

We eat in comfortable silence, me still in Xaden’s lap, perched on his thigh, my legs dangling over
his, one of his arms wrapped around my waist. I notice what he was working on when I walked in,
and it makes me smile. It’s a ‘to-do’ list for the next day. I look over it.

“I’ll take care of that,” I say, pointing out balancing the war budget. “I caught a glimpse of your so-
called system earlier. It needs help.”

“I’m good with numbers, I just don’t like them,” he admits with a sheepish grin. “I could use more
time with some of the new recruits anyway. I want to see them in action now that I have Sgaeyl
back.”

I look over the list and take over a few more things. Xaden is surprisingly agreeable, making me
wonder if maybe he’s finally accepting that I’m there, that I can help – that he can accept help.

My nerves return when he takes his last bite of cake.

“There’s something else,” I hedge.

“Oh?”

I’m wearing my flight jacket for a reason. I unzip it and reach inside. My heart thunders in my
chest as I retrieve what I’ve tucked away.

“I found this on my exploration of your room at Basgiath. I thought you may want it.”

I pass the worn copy of An Prionsa Beag - A Little Prince, how fitting, given his bloodline - to him
and for the second time tonight, Xaden is speechless. He holds the book, studies it. He’s there, with
me, but his mind is far away, somewhere in the past. I let him stay there as long as he needs.
Slowly, so slowly it’s like time has paused, he opens the book to where the sketch is tucked away.
He unfolds it and stares, lost to another time.

“My dad used to read this to me,” he finally says. The only time I’ve heard his voice this low and
rough was when he was begging me to stay in Aretia. “I didn’t have a lot of time to gather my
things when they came to collect the children of the traitors. I didn’t think much about it, just
grabbed it so I would have something of his, anything. I didn’t open it for six months, until solstice
when I missed him more than I had in a while. I found the sketch that night. It felt like a gift.”

“I couldn’t leave it,” I tell him. “I took it with me and kept it safe.”

He leans into me again and my arms fold around him.

“Remember when I told you I acted out once my mom was gone?” I nod. “That’s when he started
reading An Prionsa Beag to me. At first, it was to comfort me. Later, when I started to get older
and understand that I come from a family with a history of bravery and honor, I tried to push the
limits, tried to step into the role I thought I should have. My dad would read me this book to
remind me that my time would come, that I would have time to learn from those before me before I
took the reins.” He shakes his head. “I didn’t get to learn from him, though.”

Heartbreak and fury flow threw me in equal measure. Heartbreak because of his loss, fury at those
who caused it. I rein it in and focus on him.
“I would argue you learned damn near everything you know from him,” I say. “The important
things, anyway.” He looks at me, his eyes searching mine like he’s hoping to find the truth there. I
know he’s not reading me, but he still wants to know if that’s true, if he really did learn from his
father. “You learned how to be a good man from him. That’s the most important thing he could
have taught you.” I capture his face in my hands and direct his gaze to me. “You are a good man,
Xaden. Don’t ever doubt that.”

I kiss him to seal my words.

I know he won’t believe me, that he will struggle with self-worth and what he deserves for a while
to come, but if I do my job correctly, some day, he will know how worth it he is.

“I don’t deserve you,” he says as though echoing my thoughts. “I’m going to do everything I can to
keep you, though.” He’s said those words before. He meant them then. He means them now. He
kisses me again, then pulls away to look at me once more. “There are not adequate words to tell
you what you mean to me.”

“I love you,” I say to him. He closes his eyes and leans into my touch. He may not say the words
back, but I can feel his love wrapping around me like one of his shadows.

“The night before my dad left to declare the secession, he asked me what I learned, like he always
did,” Xaden says, still resting against me. “I had my answer ready. I told him I learned that the
right thing and the easy thing aren’t always the same thing.”

“That’s true,” I agree. “I’d argue that the right thing and the easy thing are rarely the same thing.”

“That’s what he said,” Xaden says, lifting his head from my shoulder with a soft, sad smile.
“Almost verbatim. He also said that the right thing was always, without fail, the worthwhile thing.
That’s what kept me going all this time. Knowing that I’m doing the right thing and that no matter
how it ends, I’ll have done the worthwhile thing, too.”

I kiss him again because that’s the only response I can think of. I check the time when we part. It’s
closing in on midnight. “We should go to bed. It’s been a full day, and we need to rest while we
can.”

Before we’re at war and sleep is a commodity. Both of us, especially Xaden, have already lost too
much of it in recent weeks.

I stand and offer him my hand, intent on pretending like I’m pulling his hulking frame to his feet.
He takes my hand but stays seated.

“Would you be offended if I asked for a few minutes alone?”

I consider him. I really think he thinks I’d be upset with him for asking for some time to himself.

“Whatever you need,” I assure him as I run my free hand through his hair again. My hand in his
hair seems to soothe him. I noticed it that night in his room back at Basgiath, the way he leaned
into my touch, and I’ve seen him calm at my touch a few times since. “I’ll keep the bed warm.”

He manages a small smile.

“Try not to hog the covers tonight?”

“I do not hog the covers,” I protest.

 “You do,” he nods. “It’s impressive, honestly, how someone so small can take up so much room.”

“If you didn’t insist on keeping it three degrees above freezing, I wouldn’t have to hog the
blankets,” I inform him. I have learned in the last couple of nights we’ve spent in the same bed that
he likes to sleep with it cold. I like to sleep with it cool. There is a difference, despite what he
thinks, and if I took all the blankets last night, that’s just too damn bad.

“I’ll keep you warm, Violence,” he promises. “Go to bed. I won’t be long.”

I kiss him one more time, then make my way back down the hallway. I go through my bedtime
routine, but I hesitate before slipping into one of my usual gowns. Instead, I reach for one of his
freshly laundered tunics and slip that on instead. I climb into bed, thinking I’ll read until he joins
me, but the next thing I know, he’s collecting my book and trying not to wake me.

“It’s just me,” he says. He uses magic to wipe out the lights, then leans over, kisses my forehead.
“Go back to sleep. I’ll be right back.”

He disappears into the bathing chamber, and I drift back off. I blink my eyes open again as he
slides into bed behind me. He pulls me into his chest and wraps himself around me the way he’s
done the previous nights, then brings the covers firmly around both of us.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispers.

“Hmmm,” I hum, already drifting off once more now that I’m in his arms and warm. He presses a
kiss to my shoulder, and I sigh in contentment. I’m nearly asleep when he whispers something I
don’t quite catch in my tired state.

It sounds a lot like ‘I love you.’

Chapter End Notes

*Melts.* That chocolate cake! But also, Brennan and Violet's chat in the library.
And of course, Carr. I'm pretty convinced he's one of the good guys. Surely Xaden
wouldn't have let Violet go too far away with him, alone, otherwise? So close yet so
far from Iron Flame and whatever heartbreak that brings...

A few folks have asked me if I plan to keep this going after Iron Flame's release. Um,
YES! We're over halfway through and I am several chapters ahead in my writing. I'll
finish this one like Iron Flame never happened. Then we'll see if I get inspired to fix
whatever Iron Flame might break lol.

As always, thank you for taking the time to read and share and comment and follow
me on Instagram. I adore you and it means the world to me. Thank you, thank you,
thank you. ❤️

Up next... we might turn up the heat.

 Chapter 20
Chapter Notes

Spice ahead... Also the longest update to date.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

I wake up slow. I’m warm and comfortable and in absolutely no hurry to get out of this bed. I blink
my eyes open and realize I’ve woken up before Violet. She almost always wakes up before the sun
which is, at present, starting to peek over the mountain. There is no good reason to get out of this
bed yet, so I don’t. I stay here, Violet wrapped in my arms, the blankets pulled around us like a
shield from the outside world.

She sighs a content sigh in her sleep, and I can’t resist kissing her bare shoulder where her gown
has slipped. I’ve been waking up with her a few days now, and I’ve already decided this is the only
way worth waking up. With this woman, that I love.

Who loves me.

I think back to last night, when she appeared in my office with two slices of chocolate cake to mark
my dad’s birthday. I was speechless, that she would do that for me. It meant everything to me, and
it was damn near impossible not to tell her how I feel about her. Then she brought out that book
and I almost lost it.

She loves me.

A fucking miracle.

Despite what she says, I do not deserve her. But I’m damn sure going to try.

She sighs again, and I realize I know that particular sigh – she’s waking up. I smile and nuzzle her
hair as I bring her tighter into my chest.

“Xaden?” she questions.

“Good morning,” I reply.

“Hmmm,” she hums in response, sleepy and a little slow to wake. I kiss her shoulder again. “What
time is it?”

“A little after six.”

She moves to stretch her arms overhead like a cat and I let her, because I know she’s going to turn
over to face me, like she has every morning we’ve woken up together. Sure enough, I’m rewarded
with her moving to her side and giving me a sleepy smile.

“Morning,” she says. I chuckle and brush her hair back.

“Good morning,” I repeat. I realize she’s not actually wearing a nightgown. It’s one of my tunics. I
tug at the sleeve. “Nice shirt.”
“Thanks, I stole it,” she quips, and I laugh. It’s incredible, how everything seems lighter with
Violet around. “How did you sleep?”

“All night,” I answer. “No dreams, no waking up.” I smile again. “First time in a while.”

“Good.” She reaches out and brushes my hair off my forehead. “You’re looking more well-rested
at any rate.”

“Turns out, I just needed you.”

A fact on so many fronts.

I decide as I look at her that sleepy smile Violet is my favorite Violet. That will change ten times
today, but right now, this is my favorite version of her.

“I kind of like sharing a bed with you,” she admits.

“You’re not a bad bed partner either, Violence.” I press a kiss to her forehead. “You didn’t even
hog the blankets last night.”

“You did say you would keep me warm.”

I pull her in closer. I know she can feel me. I’m only wearing boxer briefs, its morning, and I
always want her. I don’t try anything though, not yet. There is one last thing I need to do before I
allow myself to have Violet again.

“What’s on your agenda today?” I ask as my hand rubs up and down her back. Her own hands are
against my chest. One of them moves to trace the relic along my neck.

“I’m going to figure out your budget system and balance things,” she rattles off. “I want to train
with Sloane for a while, maybe take a training flight with Rhiannon. I haven’t hit the gym in
several days. I should do that, too.” Her hand trails from my neck to my shoulder and starts
following the swirls down my arm. I try in vain not to let on how much of an affect such a small
gesture has on me after being touch starved for this woman for months. “We have morning debrief,
probably should find some time to discuss strategy, start to finalize some plans for whatever comes
next.”

“Busy day,” I comment. Good. I need her out of the way as much as possible.

“What about you?” she counters.

“A lot of the same,” I reply. A bit of a lie, but I’m not not going to be strategizing and training
today. “I’m expecting a report on how prepared Aretia is for the winter. I’ll read that, figure out
where the holes are. I kind of want to hang out with Bodhi, too. Just us.”

Also not a lie. I do want to spend some one-on-one time with Bohdi. He’s also my alibi, however.

“That’s good,” she approves. “For both of you.”

“Sounds like I won’t see you until dinner,” I say. That hand of hers slides past my elbow. She’s not
even tracing the pattern anymore. She’s just – touching me.

“Shame you can’t talk to me inside of my head whenever you want.”

“An absolute tragedy,” I agree.

“Also a tragedy?” she asks. “You haven’t kissed me good morning.”

“I haven’t, have I?” I’m already in motion. “Let’s fix that.”

I don’t intend for it to happen, but the next thing I know, I’m on top of her, she’s bent her knees to
make room for me between her thighs, and we’re both breathing hard. It takes all my willpower
and then some to pull away from her. I make sure that I place several soft kisses to her cheeks, her
forehead, even those dangerous lips of hers, so she knows it’s not her before I return to my side of
the bed.

“Xaden,” she practically whines, and it just about does in my resolve.

“We need to get down to breakfast, get something to eat before we start our days,” I tell her. I kiss
her lips again. “Do you want the bathing chamber first?”

“But…”

I silence her with a kiss.

“Patience,” I whisper in her ear. I run my nose along her jaw which absolutely only fuels her fire,
but I pull away. I have to. She thinks I’m honorable. I want to be honorable. Sometimes, being
honorable means keeping a promise to yourself. So, I am. “Soon, I promise.”

Maybe even tonight if all goes well.

“I’m taking the bathing chambers first,” she informs me. “I’m going to use all the hot water on
purpose.”

“That’s fine,” I shrug. “I need a cold shower anyway.”

She huffs and throws back the blankets, letting in a blast of chilly morning air. I laugh and she
throws her middle finger over her shoulder as she struts off to the bathing chamber. It only makes
me laugh more – and makes me harder because fuck, she’s wearing my clothes, her hair is down,
and she’s being a smartass. It’s the Violet Sorrengail trifecta.

She makes good on her promise to use all the hot water and I’m forced to take a cold – quick –
shower whether I want to or not. It does the trick though, and I’m back under some semblance of
control by the time I emerge to find her pinning her braided crown into place. She really does look
like royalty, beautiful in her leathers.

Fitting, isn’t it? Sgaeyl asks, her first words to me this morning. You’re already of royal blood.

I’m not entertaining anything you’re implying, I inform her. Speaking of, you going to tell me why
my ancestry is suddenly the most interesting thing in the world to you?

She’s made more than one quip about my royal DNA over the last few days. There is a reason for
it, but in true dragon fashion, none of them are talking.

I can’t decide if I want to hold Violet’s hand, or escort her like a gentleman on our way to
breakfast, so I decide to do both. I link our arms together and then intertwine our fingers and she
beams. I don’t give a fuck that Garrick will absolutely make some kind of comment about how
wrapped around Violet’s lightning-wielding pinky I am, and I will absolutely remember it the next
time I take him to the mat. Which won’t be tonight because I have plans.

“Coffee?” Violet asks me.

“Please,” I nod. I take her plate. “I’ll finish this. Waffle, right?”

The fact that I know she prefers waffles to pancakes makes her smile. Apparently the little things
really do matter. Something else I learned from my dad.

“Please,” she nods. “With fruit.”

“The domesticity is jarring,” Bohdi comments, falling in behind me as I navigate the breakfast
spread Ms. Jade puts out for us each morning. I have tried to tell her she doesn’t have to go this
overboard, and she, in turn, makes Sunday breakfast even more of a thing. “It’s like… Weird and
nice at the same time.”

“It’s just weird,” Garrick chimes in. I glare at him. He looks right back. “Ms. Jade spent half of
your teenage years trying to get you to use a plate, now here you are, fixing your girlfriend’s
breakfast. It’s weird.”

“I forgot about that,” Bohdi remembers. “She called Xaden a pig every other day, yelled at him for
never using a napkin…”

“I seem to recall I wasn’t the only one getting reprimanded,” I say.

“I was just copying you,” Bohdi shrugs as he helps himself to pancakes. “Not my fault my so-
called role model had bad manners.” My hands are full so I can only glare at him. All three of us
remember how Ms. Jade used to lay into me for bad manners and remind me that Bohdi was
“little” and looked up to me. I say he turned out just fine.

“We’re just giving you a hard time,” Garrick says with a smack on my shoulder. “It’s good to see
you happy. It’s been a while.”

“A long while,” Bohdi echoes and I feel my chest pang at the implications.

“Remember, you’re with me today,” I say to Bohdi to change the topic. I’ll get deep with Violet,
but I’m still working on everyone else, even Bohdi who knows me best of all – outside of Violet.

“Yeah, yeah,” he shrugs.

I top Violet’s waffle with more fruit than necessary and drizzle a healthy amount of syrup. I do the
same for my pancakes, add a few slices of bacon to each plate, and then I meet her at the breakfast
table. She has already placed my coffee at my spot at the head of the table and taken her usual seat
to my right. Rhiannon is next to her this morning, Sloane across from her, and I’m subjected to girl
talk. I tune them out because I can’t bring myself to care about how to deal with dry skin from
flying and I’m relieved when a guard brings me a report from the field.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, Commandant, but I thought you may want to read this one sooner rather
than later.” He has a hint of a smile, so this must not be terrible news. I open it up, read it, and
smile.

“What’s that?” Violet asks. I pass it to her, watch as a slow smile spreads across her lips. “They’re
okay,” she reports to her friends. “Mira, Ridoc, and the others. They’re okay. They found a place to
camp, have everything they need. So far, nothing out of the ordinary to report. She says Ciaran is
‘coming around’ and surprise surprise, Ridoc never shuts up.”

“Good news?” Brennan calls from down the table. He looks like he just rolled out of bed and I’m
pretty sure that’s yesterday’s leathers he’s wearing. Doesn’t take Violet-level intelligence to figure
out where he spent his night.
Violet shares the news with the rest of the table, and I sit back and take it all in. I like this. I like
having a house – castle – full of people again. When I was a kid, there were always people around,
always someone interesting here to meet with my dad or a high-ranking officer would come to stay
for a while, sometimes bring their kids with them, giving us new playmates. Hell, my first kiss was
with a captain’s daughter when I was eleven.

The people gathered around this table are here as both leadership and as my guests. Bohdi lives
here, of course, and so does Brennan and, well, Violet, a conversation I should probably have with
her. The others have homes, or at least the option to have one in the case of Imogen and Garrick
who understandably prefer the castle to what’s left of their childhood homes. Garrick only has the
land and the ruins of the house he grew up in. Imogen does, at least, have a house left. Even Sloane
could go home. The Mairi house still stands, not too far away. Rhiannon, Sawyer, Ridoc, they have
actual homes, actual families, people who miss them, who are wondering where they are, if they
are alive or dead. They will have a home here as long as they need or want it.

We finish breakfast and retreat to my office for morning debrief. It’s quick this morning. There
were no additional reports overnight, no imminent threats. I dismiss the group and hang back while
Violet pulls my mess of a budget which, she will find, is balanced despite the utter mess of my
system, to her and prepares to get to work. I kiss her soundly, promise to see her later, and head off
to the other side of the castle to make good on my comment about using the time she freed up to
train with some of the new recruits. Rhiannon and Sloane are up ahead, presenting me with the
opportunity I’ve been looking for all morning. I call out to them to wait.

“What can we do for you, Commandant?” Rhiannon asks. I barely contain my cringe. She’s
Violet’s best friend and dare I say it, I want her to like me. She sees me as her commanding general
though, which I am, and, even more, as the man who broke Violet’s heart. Despite Violet’s
forgiveness, Rhiannon is still weary of me.

She’s a good friend.

“You two are planning to train with Violet today, right?”

“She and I are planning a training flight,” Rhiannon nods.

“She said something about a training with me,” Sloane adds.

“Good. I need you to keep her busy today.” They just look at me. “I didn’t stutter.”

“Why?” Rhiannon questions. There is pure skepticism in her tone.

“Just keep her busy,” I say, trying to be elusive.

“Is this an order?” Sloane challenges. “Or is this a personal request?”

I look at her and she looks so much like Liam it hurts. I need to pull her aside, talk to her, make
sure she’s doing okay. I promised him two things when he died. One of them is that I would look
after her.

The other is that I would make things right with Violet.

“It’s a fair question,” Rhiannon prods and fucking hell, why are the women in my life, dragon
included, so difficult? “Are you ordering us to keep Violet busy, or are you asking us to keep
Violet busy?”

“I’m asking,” I say, letting some of my irritation show. “I’ll make it an order if I need to.”
“That would be an abuse of power,” Sloane points out. “Isn’t that what we’re fighting against?”

Fucking. Hell.

We’re waiting, comes Tairn’s voice. Why do you need Silver One kept busy today?

He fucking knows why. I know he does. I’m certain Sgaeyl told him. He’s just trying to make me
say it because he’s petty as fuck.

Spit it out, Commandant, Sgaeyl urges. We’ll be here all day otherwise.

I huff out a pissed off breath and confess my plan. They predictably swoon and at least agree to
help me keep Violet occupied and then I’m all but running to formation.

I don’t think people realize just how big this castle is. Some say Basgiath was modeled after it,
with its personal quarters for family, for leadership, for guests, and then a wing dedicated to those
in service. We have an administrative building, too, but it’s largely unused at the moment. I’ll
consider it a show of growth when the day comes for us to fill it with people working on
administrative tasks that come along with operating a city. Our dragon rotunda is at least twice the
size of Basgiath’s, maybe bigger. We don’t have a lot of options for a flight field given our
mountainous terrain, so we made one.

It’s my favorite part of this palace.

I enter just as Brennan is calling formation to a close and the day truly commences.

Rhiannon and Sloane make good on their promise to keep Violet busy. I still talk to her throughout
the day, keep up all sense of normalcy. I threatened them within an inch of their lives to blow my
cover, and if Violet is suspicious, she does a damn good of hiding it. She’s impressed by how
balanced my budget is, mortified at how messy it all was, proud of what it looks like now, dares
me to touch it moving forward.

The report on Aretia’s winter supplies is delivered to my office. She reads it, gives me her
feedback, worries about the school being warm throughout the winter months, decides she will
take that on personally, leaves it for me to read when I have a chance. She has a thought about a
long-abandoned outpost that might be dead useful and I’m reminded that she is the daughter of a
general, that she knows things about strategy that will be useful.

She even handles a dispute between two of our newest recruits, something about who claimed what
cot as their own. She sits them down and works it out with words. I probably would have gotten
annoyed, gotten mad, then either decided to work it out on the mat or threatened them with
Sgaeyl’s fire.

Then, finally, it’s time.

Almost.

“All set?” Bohdi asks. I look around at my handiwork and nod.

“I think so,” I say. “Thank you, Bohdi. I couldn’t have made this happen without you.”

“Happy to help,” he says with a smile. “I’ll leave you to it.” He turns to leave, but I stop him with a
hand on his shoulder.

“Thank you,” I say again. “For – everything.”

He holds my eyes for a few beats, then nods. He knows I’m thanking him for what he did as
Basgiath, for watching out for Violet when I couldn’t.

“You might be the commanding general,” he says, “but at the end of the day, you’re my family.”

I hug the hell out of him.

Then I remember something.

“What did you say to Violet, anyway?” I ask.

Bohdi just smiles. “Only what she needed to hear.” He gives me one of his shoulder claps. “Good
luck, but I don’t think you’re going to need it.” He stops at the door and smirks at me. “I’ll be
prepared for storms later.”

I scowl. He laughs and leaves me alone.

Fucker.

Once I’m alone though, the nerves settle in. I shake out my hands like that’s going to help, then
take several calming breaths.

Get lost, dragons, I say down the bond.

Rude, Sgaeyl reprimands me.

As though I want to listen to this. Tairn sounds bored.

Andarna does, Sgaeyl sighs. She’s been waiting for this.

Violet can give her a detailed recap in the morning, I say. Close the shields. It’s just me and Violet
tonight unless there’s an emergency. An actual, honest to Malek emergency. I’ll fucking kill
someone if we’re interrupted like we were last time.

There will be no war games, Tairn says. Do try not to set the mountainside on fire?

It goes quiet and I know I’m truly alone. I take one more big breath. It’s time.

Find me.

Seriously? she asks. The slight hint of annoyance in her tone makes me smile. I know she thinks
I’m playing a game with her. I am, but I think she’ll like this one.

Seriously, I repeat. Find me.

She goes quiet and I wait. I have at least twenty minutes to kill, so I pace. I’m not nervous yet I am.
I can’t describe what I feel. Most of me knows this will be okay. A part of me expects the worst.
It’s the part of me that doesn’t believe I’m worthy of Violet, that doesn’t believe I deserve her. I
don’t know that I will ever shake that voice completely, but I keep pacing, keep breathing,
reminding myself this will be fine. This will be good. ‘

This is long overdue.

I check in on her location via the bond. She’s close. This is it. I stop pacing, move to a spot that
should be directly in her line of vision when she walks in, and exhale one last time. I don’t know
how I know that she’s right there as she reaches for the door handle, but I know by the tingle in my
spine that she is. I hold my breath as she pushes the heavy door open.

“Okay, I found you. What, exactly, is the purpose…”

She stops mid-sentence as she processes the scene before her. I take the opportunity to drink her in
as she stands there, entirely awestruck.

At least a thousand mage lights twinkle around us, casting the library, ruins and all, in a soft glow.
Hundreds of violets cover the space. And there I stand, in the middle of it all, ready to make the
confession of my life.

“Xaden…” she breathes. “What…”

“I was allowed ten minutes with my dad before he died,” I begin. “I wanted to use those ten
minutes to try to find a solution, a way to save him. He used it to share things he had hoped to have
time to teach me. Trust your gut. If you make an enemy, make sure you know them front and back.
Use your resources for good, to help others, and they will come back to you twofold. Use that
surplus, too. Never forget who had your back when things got hard.”

Her eyes are on mine, and she is so caught off guard that for once in her life, her mind is quiet, not
anticipating what’s coming next, not trying to guess or plan before it actually happens.

“Always hold doors for ladies.” Her lips turn into a small smile, and I know she remembers when I
held the door for her at Basgiath and she pointed it out, when I almost told her about my dad then,
but caught myself. “And to never, ever need a grand gesture. Because needing a grand gesture
means the object of your affection has no idea how loved they are.” Her eyes fill with tears, but she
doesn’t look away. I can feel my heart pounding between my ears, but I push on.

“You, Violet, have no idea how loved you are.”

A tear escapes and rolls down her cheek as she brings her hands to mouth in surprise. I take slow,
measured steps towards her, don’t break eye contact.

“I love you, Violet. I love you in an all-consuming, entirely encompassing way that ‘love’ doesn’t
seem to be an adequate word to describe. I can’t tell you when I fell in love with you. I just know
that I am in love with you, and that I fall a little more in love with you every single day.”

I’m near toe-to-toe with her now. I’m gentle as I grasp her wrists and pull her hands away from her
mouth, hold them tight in my own. Her lips move, but nothing comes out which is fine with me. I
have more to say.

“Honestly, I think I have always been in love with you. You appeared on that parapet wearing two
different boots and it was like someone unlocked whatever part of my heart you had been tucked
away in until the right time to be unleashed. That’s what falling in love with you has felt like,
Violet. Like a tempest unleashed. I fought and fought and fought against my feelings for you, but I
was never going to win. I’m meant to love you. And I do. With all I have.”

I drop one of her hands so I can reach out and place my hand on her cheek. I vow to make sure,
someday, she doesn’t think about Dain touching her cheek, violating her privacy. She’ll think of
my touch, and only in a way that reminds her I love her.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you. I wasted so much time pushing away my feelings for you.
I wanted to tell you that night in my room, when you told me you loved me. There were so many
secrets, though, and I wanted to be honest with you about everything before I made my confession
in hopes that you would believe me. Then it all fell apart, and I knew you wouldn’t believe me if I
told you how I felt, that it would seem like a cheap ploy to get you back. So I’ve been here, waiting
until you were in my arms again, until you were mine again, to tell you I love you.” I brush my
thumb along her cheek. “I know I waited a long time, and that you have wanted, maybe even
needed, those three words. That’s why I’m standing here, in the middle of a ruined library, with
mage lights everywhere and an excessive amount of violets that were next to impossible to find in
October. Because you have no idea how loved you are.”

Another tear falls. I catch it with my thumb, wipe it away. My other thumb glides over her lips. We
haven’t broken eye contact. I’m lost in her hazel eyes, and she's looking into my very soul.

“I hope you appreciate this grand gesture, Violence, because I won’t need another one.” I reach up,
pull one of the pins holding her braid in its crown out of her hair, let it drop to the ground. “You
will never wonder nor doubt how loved you are again.”

I find the second pin as I kiss her. Her braid uncoils and falls down her back as I cradle her face in
my hands and kiss her with everything in me. I want to reach for the ribbon holding the braid
together, but I know once I do, that will be it for me.

Any ferocity that Violet kissed me with before is put to shame by the way she kisses me now. Her
hands are on my face, in my hair, her lips on mine, her tongue battling mine. I have her held flush
against me and the heat from her has very little to do with the lightning that courses through her
veins.

“Xaden,” she breathes when we have no choice but to part. “I… You…”

I smirk. “Did I finally succeed in leaving you speechless?”

She throws herself at me and we resume kissing all over again.

“I love you,” she breathes. “I love you so much.”

“I love you,” I reply. It’s easier to say now. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” I punctuate each
one with a kiss. “I really am sorry I took so long to tell you, but I love you, Violet. Always have,
always will.”

The kiss quickly turns towards something more. Her hand trails down my chest and confident
woman she is, she goes right for my crotch where she finds me as hard and ready for her as ever.
She fucking moans into my mouth and I can’t stop myself from lifting her up, pressing her against
one of the remaining columns. Her legs wrap around me, and I move my lips away to work down
her neck.

Except it’s chilly out and she’s wearing too many damn clothes. She sees my predicament and
moves to unzip her flight jacket. I should stop her, but I don’t. Instead, I help push it aside and then
seal my lips on her neck. I’m going to leave marks and I don’t care. She’s mine now, good and
proper.

She lets out a stuttered little gasp as I find a place I know she likes and there is no stopping me
from thrusting against her, letting her know how she makes me feel.

“Xaden,” she sighs. She has a hand in my hair, the other at the nape of my neck, and she’s at my
mercy. Exactly where I want her tonight. “Don’t tease me. It’s been too long. Fuck me.”

That brings me back to my senses.

I pull away, but I don’t put her on her feet, keep her pressed against the column.
“No.”

Her eyes blow wide.

“No?” she squeaks. “But… I mean, I won’t force you, of course, but I thought…”

I smile at her flustered, needy attempt at asking for what she wants while considering my consent
in the matter. I brush a loose strand of hair back.

“I made myself a couple of promises when it comes to being with you again,” I tell her. “The first
one was that I wouldn’t allow myself to sleep with you again until I told you I love you.”

“There’s that box checked,” she states, and I chuckle. I take her in though, all beautiful and well-
kissed and happy, and I’m certain my eyes darken with lust.

“The other thing I promised myself is that the next time you and I were together, I wouldn’t just
fuck you.” I brush my fingertips along her cheek. “I’m going to make love to you.”

She melts.

I claim her mouth again and give myself a full minute to just kiss her before I pull on what little
control I have. I pull away, give her a quick peck on the lips, and then lower her to her feet.

“We’re going back to the castle,” I inform her. “I have spent hours upon hours fantasizing about all
the ways in which I can have you in my bed.” I smirk. “Our bed.” I swear her knees go weak, based
on how she uses me for balance. “We’re going back to the castle, to our room, and I’m going
worship you.” I take her hand and my smirk grows. “Besides, all this paper around us? It would
never survive your lightning when you inevitably lose control.” I squeeze her hand and pull her in
closer. “And I do intend for you to lose control.”

The lust in her eyes is undeniable.

“You make a valid point about the books,” she says. “This library has been through enough. But if
you don’t stop saying things like that to me, we’re not going to make it back to the castle. And I’d
like to, because I don’t want to further damage this library, and it’s too damn cold to get naked
outside.”

“I’d keep you warm,” I tease, even as I lead us towards the door.

She’s right. It is cold, much colder than it was when I left the castle while the late autumn sun was
still up. The temperature drops fast at night in these mountains. It serves as motivation for us to
walk a little faster than necessary to get home. I’m not trying to look like an overstimulated
teenager, either, but, well, it’s been months.

I deploy a few shadows out in front of us.

“What are they for?” she questions.

“To warn us if anyone is in the halls between the gate and our bedroom,” I say. I wonder if she’s
caught on yet that I’m calling it our bedroom. I’m certain she has. She’s too smart not to. “I’m not
trying to stop for a conversation.”

“Good thinking.

The gods are on our side, and we don’t encounter anyone. I can probably thank Bohdi for that. He
would have the sense to tell the others to make themselves scarce tonight. Which could get
awkward if I allow myself to think about one of the others being her brother, but my focus is only
on this woman before me as I close the bedroom door. I use magic to lock it for good measure.

She stops between me and the bed and moves to take her jacket off.

“No.”

She looks over her shoulder at me, raises an eyebrow in challenge. “No?”

“I’m undressing you.”

Her eyes darken and her hands fall to her sides. She turns to me, holds my eyes.

“Get to it, then.”

She doesn’t understand yet that tonight is entirely about her. It’s about me, making damn sure,
once and for all, she knows that I love her. She’s about to be entirely at my mercy. My cock
twitches at the mere thought.

I don’t say a word as I go to her. I lift my hand, find the zipper of her jacket she’d replaced after our
library tryst, pull. The leather falls open and I make a show of running my hands up her torso to her
shoulders before I push it off her and let it fall to the floor. I place a hand on the small of her back,
then the other at the nape of her neck and pull her to me. I suck on her bottom lip as I set to work
on the shirt she wears. There are a couple of daggers and knives that need to go, so I unstrap those,
take comfort in how they clatter against the stone floor. When I have her down to her bra, I let my
hands move lower. My fingers skate around the top of her waistband and goosebumps erupt on her
skin, a sexy contrast to the hot lightning just below the surface.

“Let’s take off these boots.”

I kneel before her and remember that night she was attacked, how I wanted nothing more than to
pull her into the safety of my arms and not let her go, how I relished such a seemingly innocent
exposure of skin as I checked to see how badly she was hurt. Just like that night, she uses my
shoulders to balance. I make quick work of her shoes, then stand, running my hands up her legs as I
do so, removing weapons in the process. I find the button of her leathers and pop it. I kiss her as I
shimmy them down her hips. They puddle at her feet, and she steps out of them, pulls me into her.

We’re all lips and need as I walk her backwards towards the bed.

“This hair,” I manage between kisses. “I need it down.” I keep one arm around her, keep kissing
her, as I find her braid and then tug the ribbon holding it together. It unravels in soft ways around
her. “I’ve told you before, but I fucking love your hair.”

”It’s how I win arguments and get your attention,” she says and I know for sure she let it down on
purpose that first night she was here when I couldn’t touch her. I let out a deep noise I can only call
a growl and lay her down on the bed.

“I love you,” I whisper as I settle over her.

“I love you,” she replies. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

I let her take my tunic off – when did I lose my jacket? – and I groan like a man starved at the
simple skin-to-skin contact her torso against mine brings. “I missed you.” I start working my lips
along her jaw. I’m determined to kiss every inch of her. “I’m never letting you go again.”
“Never,” she echoes. Her hands are wild, exploring every part of me she can reach. I nip her
earlobe, then make my way down her neck. She wiggles under me, tries to press her hips against
mine. I use my bodyweight to hold her in place. I move along her collarbone, up her throat, to her
lips, then to the jaw I neglected earlier while the other got my attention.

“You’re…” She’s already breathing hard. “Teasing me.”

“No,” I correct. “I’m worshiping you.” I cup her breast and she throws her head back in a moan. I
slip my fingers under the strap of her bra and tug it down her shoulder. “This has to go.” She lifts
up enough to allow me to unclasp the thing and then I pull it away, revealing her perfect chest.
“Fuck me, you’re beautiful.”

“I thought you said no to fucking,” she manages.

“Such a smart mouth.” I shut her up with my lips on hers. My hand returns to her breast, and I start
working the hardened peak between my forefinger and thumb. She whimpers into my mouth and
yeah, this is going to be incredible.

I spend several minutes focused on her breasts. I nip and suck and lick with my mouth, fondle and
squeeze with my fingers. Violet is absolutely panting, and my pants are so tight they hurt. I finally
move down her body, towards where I want to be most. I take my time though, make sure she is
delirious with desire before I slip off the bed.

“Xaden?” she asks as I stand.

“Need to take these off,” I say as I finish disarming – apparently she managed to get a few daggers
off me while I was otherwise occupied because they’re lying in bed with us – and unbutton my
leathers. I smirk at her. “I don’t have any more room in them.”

“I know you have this big, romantic plan, but can we settle on it being the thought that counts, and
you get inside of me already?” she begs. “I need you, Xaden. I actually might combust if I don’t
have you.”

Fuck, that’s hot.

I lean over her and kiss her soundly.

“I made a promise to myself, and I’m keeping it.” I hold steadfast. “I’m going to make love to
you.” I run a soothing hand through her hair all the same. She is wanton with need and desperate
for the release I can give her. “I’m not going to let you combust.”

I stretch out beside her. She’s so wound up. I need to ease her into this or she’s going to burn more
than just the mountainside. She’s flushed with heat and if the noises she’s making are any sound,
that lightning of hers is about to whip out at any moment. I nuzzle her cheek.

“Ground yourself,” I coax. “I’ve got you if the lightning strikes, don’t worry about that. Try to
ground, though. Try to breathe.”

Somewhere, in the very back of my mind, it occurs to me that this level of a reaction isn’t normal.
It wasn’t normal the first two nights we spent together. It wasn’t normal for me to lose control like
I did. I’ve had good sex before. I’ve had rough, wild sex before. Whatever this is between Violet
and I defies explanation.

Her eyes flutter shut, and she takes a few breaths. “Good,” I say as my hand starts to trail down her
body. “Keep grounding, keep breathing.” I slip my hand into her panties, and she lets out another
one of those whimpers that makes my cock ever harder. “Let me take the edge off, yeah?”

My fingertips graze over her clit and then travel lower, teasing her. She rocks her hips, trying to get
my fingers where she wants them, but I refrain.

“Xaden,” she whines, “I need… I can’t stand it…” I tap her clit with my index finger, and she
shudders. “More!” I distract her with wherever I can reach as I rub her to her first orgasm. She falls
apart with a shout. Her fingernails dig into my shoulder, but the grounding seems to have worked.
She’s contained herself – for now.

I’m going to guarantee it won’t last.

I move, placing open-mouthed kisses at random as I work down her body. I rub her over her
panties, watch her squirm before I hook my fingers through the sides.

“These have to go.”

She lifts her hips to help me slide them off. I toss them aside and then haul her to the edge of the
bed. I kneel between her legs and lift them to rest over my shoulders. I place those same open-
mouthed kisses up one leg, trail my hand up the other. I flick my eyes towards her, blatantly watch
as she clutches the sheets and arches her back. She’s fucking beautiful.

“Xaden,” she begs. “Please.”

She’s absolutely glistening for me. I lower my mouth, lick her from her opening to her clit and she
keens in need. “Mmmm,” I groan. “Better than I remember.” The noise that comes from Violet is
sinful. My girl likes dirty talk. I lick her again. “Tell me what you want.”

“You,” she breathes as I make another pass. “I want you.”

“You already have me, Violence.” I flick my tongue over her clit, and she squirms. I lock an arm
over her hips to hold her still. Do you want my tongue? I do it again. Or do you want my fingers?

“Both!” she cries out. “Gods, Xaden, please!”

I give her what she wants.

Two of my thick fingers sink into her as my mouth feasts.

So fucking good.

Gods, don’t stop, she begs.

I could stay between your legs forever.

I fucking mean it right now, too. I could stay right here on my knees for the rest of time and be
perfectly happy about it.

Her walls start to tighten around me. Those breathy little moans she makes before she comes fill
the space, fill my head.

Ground, I direct. Then fall apart on my tongue.

Violet cries out my name as her walls contract around me. I don’t let up, keep pushing her through
her orgasm until she’s spent. Lightning flashes outside, but it’s friendly, no more than what would
be heat lightning on a summer evening.
“That… Your mouth…”

“I can’t get enough of you,” I say as I stand. I suddenly can’t think of anything else other than
being inside her. “I need to be in you. Now.”

She pushes herself upright and has the audacity to wrap her hand around my cock and fuck, she’s
playing with fire.

“You’re still taking the fertility suppressant?” she asks as she strokes me.

Yes, I answer as I let my head fall back, let her work her hand over me. No matter how much I want
a family with Violet, right now is not the time. Fuck, you have to stop that, or I won’t make it
inside you.

“I’m still taking it as well,” she says.

I can’t take her hand on me anymore. I catch it in mine and remove it from my cock. She looks
hungry as she moves back to the center of the bed, and I stalk after her. She bends her knees and I
settle in the cradle she’s made for me.

I’m overwhelmed.

I love her.

This woman is it for me. There will not be another. Whether I die in this war or I live to be a
hundred, Violet Sorrengail is it. Despite everything I’ve put her through, despite the way I broke
her trust, despite this war I got her involved in, she’s here. She loves me. She wants me. I drop my
head to the crook of her neck as I work through the tidal wave of emotions.

“Xaden?” Her hand is back in my hair and gods I love her. “Everything okay?”

“Fine,” I nod against her. I lift my head so I can look into her eyes so she knows I’m telling the
truth. “I just love you so much. It took my breath away for a moment.”

She melts for the second time tonight.

“I love you.” She cradles my face, pulls me to her so she can kiss me. “I love you, Xaden. Every
part of you, even the parts you try to hide. I love all of you. My heart is yours.” She holds my eyes.
“So is my trust.”

I kiss the hell out of her. It’s the only thing I can think to do. I kiss her hard and deep and she
returns it, even as I move to position myself. I find her entrance, press the head into her, and then I
pause long enough to catch her hands in mine. I bring our joined hands over our heads as I push into
her with one long stroke.

We both groan. It’s like coming home, like safety, to be this close to her again, to feel her all
around me. She fits me just so and I’m again reminded that it feels like she was handpicked for me,
made just for me. That Violet-sized hole in my life I didn’t know existed for that day on the
parapet is filled with her and I’m not letting her go.

I make love to her. It’s not the ruthless, desperate joining it’s been before. All of that is still there,
under the surface, ready to unleash, but it’s like whatever parts of ourselves that need that intensity
have decided to take a break and let us just connect, let us fill each other up.

My strokes are long and thorough. I pull almost all the way out of her before I thrust back into her
to the hilt. She bends her knees even more, makes more room for me. Her hands are everywhere,
pulling at me, desperate for me. Our lips explore and I know she won’t be the only one with marks
in the morning.

“Violet,” I manage as I push into her again and again. “Love… You…”

“Love… You… Xad…En….” Her head is thrown back in pleasure and her eyes are closed. I need
to look into her eyes. I need to see what she’s feeling.

“Open your eyes, Violet,” I coax. She does and meets mine. It’s magnetic, the pull between us. I
can’t look away from her. The connection, the love, the trust. It’s everything. I’ve never
experienced anything like this, and I never want it to stop.

You’re exquisite, she says down the mental bound and I lose rhythm for a moment as I absorb the
fact that she thinks I am exquisite.

You’re doing okay? I check in.

I need more, she requests. I’m so close…

If she needs more, I’ll give her more.

I hitch her knees up higher so I can drive in deeper.

“Yes!” she cries out when I hit the spot she needs. “There! Gods, Xaden, right there!”

The room crackles around us and my shadows start to seep away, signs we’re both losing control.

“You feel so fucking good, Violet.” I take her in, how she’s panting and clinging to me and
mewling those desperate noises of hers. “Fuck, I love when you fall apart on my cock.” I kiss her
and it’s like our mouths are welded together from sheer need. “Go ahead,” I say, my forehead
resting against hers, our pants mingling. “Come, Violet.” I thrust in hard, deep, pull out to do it
again, all the while angling my hips so they hit her clit too. “Let it all out.”

Three more thrusts is all it takes before brilliant lightning fills the skies of Aretia and she’s crying
out my name, squeezing around me, almost like she’s drawing me deeper. I don’t let up, keep
pounding into her like she needs as she rides it out, until her lightning calms and her body is limp
under me as she comes down. I kiss her neck, give her a moment.

“Can you take a little more?” I ask her, my hips still rocking, but the motion slow now, soothing. I
want to come inside her more than I want just about anything else right now, want the satisfaction
of knowing it’s me that’s been left deep inside her to claim her as mine, primal as it sounds, but if
she’s done, we’re done.

“More,” she nods. She’s dazed from her orgasm and it’s a sight to behold. “Come inside me,
Xaden.” She reaches out, finds my face with her hands, guides my lips to hers. “Claim me as
yours.”

Fucking hell.

I unleash, taking what I need now, my strokes relentless. It’s a punishing pace and I’m acutely
aware of any sign that Violet isn’t okay.

Stop thinking so much, she whispers in my mind as her hands work through my hair. You’re not
going to break me. She lifts her head, kisses my neck. I’m so close it hurts, but it’s like the cap
won’t blow off. It’s been so long, and I’ve missed her, and I love her. It’s like my body has decided
this can’t end and so it won’t allow itself to be pushed over the edge. You feel so good inside of me,
Xaden.

I close my eyes, my control slips, my hips jerk. I keep going and so does she.

I’m so full of you. Her hands slide down my back. I love how thick you are. Fuck. Me. She knows
exactly what she’s doing. My rhythm becomes erratic, and my breath gets short. Let go. Fill me
with you. Then we’ll rest and do it again.

I shout her name as hot liquid erupts from me and finds home deep inside her. My shadows
explode outward and ricochet around the room. Something big falls over and something else breaks
but I don’t fucking care as I keep coming, emptying all I have into her. I collapse on top of her,
physically spent, and try to catch my breath. She goes back to running her hands through my hair
and down my back, soothing me.

“You okay?” I ask once I feel like I can form words.

“Perfect,” she confirms. “How about you? You checked out for a few minutes there.”

“I’m spent,” I admit. “In the best way.” I have to move. I’m so much bigger than her. I can’t keep
lounging on her. I lift my head, kiss her sweetly, then slip off her. I collect her in my arms, and she
settles on my chest. “You are fucking incredible.”

“You didn’t disappoint,” she replies. I chuckle. “That was incredible, Xaden.”

“You’re sure you’re okay?” I press. “I wasn’t too rough?”

“I don’t think you could be too rough with me,” she says. “You’re very good at knowing exactly
what I need and how much I can take. In the bed and out of it.”

“You’re pretty good at that, too,” I admit. “But with the emotional stuff I don’t like to talk about.
You know when to push and when to pull back.” I kiss her hair. “I love you, Violet.” I feel more
than see her smile against my chest.

“I love you,” she replies. “I can’t believe you did all of this for me.”

“Like I told you, my dad said you should only need a grand gesture if the person you love has no
idea how you feel about them. You have no idea how much I love you.”

“I would argue I do know how you feel about me,” she says. “You show it more than say it and
that’s okay.”

“I want to say it,” I tell her. “I need to say it.” I play with her hair. “I’ve said it a lot tonight, and it
gets a little easier each time. I think letting myself love you is going to go down as maybe the
single hardest thing I’ve ever done. The very best thing, but the hardest thing.”

“I feel similar,” Violet admits. “It’s worth it, though.”

“So very worth it,” I echo. “You hungry?”

“A little… We missed dinner…”

“Stay here,” I direct. “I’ll find sustenance.”

She doesn’t protest. I slip out of bed – gods its cold – find a pair of soft pants, and use magic to
start a fire in the grate which makes Violet smile as she slides under the blankets and pulls them up
around her. It’s tempting to say to hell with food and get back in bed with her, but my stomach
growls so I leave her naked in my – our – bed and navigate to the kitchen, skirting around one of
the common areas where I’m fairly certain Garrick, Bohdi, Brennan, and Sawyer are getting drunk
and gambling. Let them have their fun while they can.

I’m quick in the kitchen, pulling together an assortment of cheeses, crackers, bread, and fruit. I find
a skein of wine and make my way back to Violet. The sight of her wrapped up in blankets, lit only
by the firelight, that hair of hers cascading over one shoulder takes my breath away.

“I decided while you were gone that I am very, very hungry,” she announces.

“Then let’s get you fed.”

I join her in bed – but not before she makes me take my pants off so she’s not the only naked one –
and it’s easy, eating through our makeshift dinner and drinking wine with Violet, talking about
nothing and everything with no mention of war. It’s funny, how we didn’t have this level of
intimacy before with my secrets and determination to keep her at a distance, and yet I missed this
all the same. I missed her.

“Hey, Violet?” I ask.

“Hey, Xaden?” she replies with a little smirk and a raised eyebrow. I smile at her.

“I fucking love you.”

She laughs.

“I love you too.” She leans over and kisses me. She stays close, lets her hand drift down my bare
chest. It has to be against the laws of nature for someone to be as turned on by another human as I
am by Violet. My cock is already starting to harden. “You know, I haven’t forgotten about where
we were when Garrick so rudely interrupted us.”

“Is that so?”

I take her almost empty wine glass and put it on the nightstand with my empty one.

“It’s true,” she nods. I reach for the tray that once held food and drop it to the floor with a clatter.
The noise reminds me that my shadows knocked over something and broke something else. With
the way Violet is looking at me, that’s a tomorrow problem. “I don’t like to not finish things I
start.”

“Leaving things undone does feel very un-Violet like,” I agree. I wrap an arm around her and slide
us down into the bed.

“What should we do about it?” she asks even as she props herself up on her elbow and runs a
finger along the scar that cuts through my brow. “

“I think it’s imperative to finish what we started.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She leans down, kisses me. I use the arm I have wrapped around her to hoist her on top of
me. She yelps and I smirk as I slide her body down to where I want her. “Mount up, Violence.”
 She does.

Chapter End Notes

WHEW. A big 'ol romantic gesture and then quite the romp between the sheets.
Suffices to say they are BACK, officially.

Next update, they face the morning after aka their friends who know what that
lightning meant and a brother who does *not* know what that lightning meant and
perhaps there is a double date sort of situation, too...

Thank you a hundred thousand times over for reading. I adore you all, truly, and I
know we're all about to go down the Iron Flame rabbit hole, but thank you thank you
thank you for being along for this little journey of fanfiction with me, leaving
comments, even finding me over on the 'gram. I mean it. I adore you. ❤️
 Chapter 21
Chapter Notes

Happy Iron Flame Eve! I have my tissues, my wine, and my coffee all ready.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Xaden is still asleep when I wake up. He’s wrapped around me again, holds me firm against him.
I’m warm and safe and in absolutely no hurry to get out of this bed, except my bladder dictates
otherwise. I don’t want to wake him, so I work to extricate myself from his embrace. I fully expect
to wake him – he seems to have a sixth sense when it comes to me – but I manage to slip out of bed
with no more than a sleep-filled sigh from him. I take a moment to stand there and take him in,
beautiful in his blue bed sheets, and feel like I should pinch myself to make sure this is real.

He loves me.

Xaden Riorson loves me.

He turned the library into a twinkling, violet-filled wonderland just to tell me he loves me.

And then he absolutely wrecked me making love to me.

I’m sore in a good way as I cross the room and enter the bathing chamber. I use the bathroom, then
take in my appearance as I brush my teeth. I look – happy. Healthy. But mostly, happy. Happy
despite the pending war, the risk of life and limb we’re going to face soon.

Happy feels really good.

Xaden is awake when I return a few minutes later.

“Let the record to show that I don’t like waking up without you in bed,” he greets. He’s still under
the covers, one arm bent behind his head, his eyes on me. He, too, looks maybe not happy, but
content, which in Xaden Riorson terms, is fucking ecstatic. “I’ll allow an amendment that says if I
wake up without you but am greeted with you wearing my tunic, it’s almost okay.”

“You looked so peaceful,” I say. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Hate to break it to you, Violence, but I’m calibrated to wake up if you leave my side while
sleeping.” Thought so. He opens the covers. “Now get back in here.”

Like he has to tell me twice.

“If you insist.” I slide under the covers and slot into one of my favorite places to be – in Xaden’s
arms, my head on his chest. He hisses as my legs tangle with his. “What?”

“Your feet are freezing,” he states. I giggle.

“The fire went out overnight and it’s cold outside of these blankets,” I inform him. He uses his
lesser magic to light a fire with no more than a snap of his fingers. “Show off.”
“That’s no way to talk to the man who just made sure the room will be warm if and when we leave
this bed.”

“Shut up and kiss me good morning,” I direct. He obliges.

“Mmm,” he hums when we part almost a full minute later. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.”

I’m happy. Practically flying. Xaden, too, is lighter this morning, like some of the weight he’s
carried around for so long has finally truly fallen away. His hand starts to work through my tangled
strands of hair.

“How do you feel this morning?” he asks.

“A little sore.” He opens his mouth to apologize. “In a good way,” I cut him off, placing a finger
on his lips. “Like I had a lot of really good sex last night and well into the early morning hours.”

“Really good sex, huh?” he repeats. “I need to work on my performance if it was just really good
sex.”

“You blew my mind,” I assure him. “Several times over.”

“What was the final count?” he asks.

“Six.”

He grins.

“Just wanted to hear you say it.”

I roll my eyes and he laughs.

“So cocky,” I say.

“You like my cock,” he reminds me. “You told me so multiple times last night.”

“You are incorrigible.”

“No,” he shakes his head. He reaches out to brush my hair back. “Just madly in love with you.” He
smiles at me. It feels like a secret smile, one he only shares with me. “I love you, Violet.”

My insides absolutely light up in a way that has nothing to do with my own lightning. Hearing
those words from him last night was everything. Hearing them in the morning light though? That
makes them absolutely real.

Xaden Riorson loves me.

Xaden Riorson loves me.

I surge forward and kiss him again.

“I love you, too,” I tell him when I pull away. I settle into his arms. The responsible thing would be
to get out of this bed, get dressed, and begin another day of preparing for war. I’m not feeling very
responsible, however. “Where did you find all those violets anyway? It’s October…”
“It took some effort, but I found a woman about two hours away who has an extensive greenhouse.
She named all her children after flowers and grows said flowers in their honor. She has a Lily, a
Rose, a Poppy, and a Violet. That’s where I was on my training flight the other day. Which, for the
record, really was a training flight. I just – ordered a pit stop.”

I swoon.

“Who knew you were a romantic?”

“Only for you,” he assures me. “I have a reputation to uphold.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” I promise. His fingertips draw a lazy pattern on my shoulder. It feels safe in
this bed. It feels safe with Xaden. Which is what gives me the courage to bring up something that
I’ve been turning around in my mind. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“You keep calling this ‘our’ bedroom,” I venture.

“I was wondering if you picked up on that.” I note how the arm looped around my waist tightens,
how the hand that had been drawing on my shoulder moves to wrap around my arm like he’s afraid
I’m going to dart. I remind myself he probably is afraid. He has a certain insecurity when it comes
to me that isn’t going to go away overnight. It will take him time to truly believe I’m here and this
is real. It will probably take him even longer to believe he’s worthy of me. “I want this to be our
room, Violet. Not my room, not my room that you’re sleeping in. Ours. I’m done with this whole
being apart thing and you have seen how well I sleep without you. I will admit I put you in here
with every intention of being allowed to move back in sooner rather than later. So, I guess it’s up to
you. Do you want me to continue to sleep in my office? Or do you want this to be our bedroom?
It’s your choice.”

There is no choice to make.

“We’re going to have to discuss the temperature we keep our room,” I tell him and watch as that
smile of his I don’t get to see nearly enough comes out. “I refuse to fall asleep with my teeth
chattering every night.”

“I already told you, Violence, I’ll keep you warm.” He rolls over so he’s on top of me and I don’t
hesitate to bend my knees to make room for him. I love the feel of his weight on me, always have.
There is something about Xaden’s dominant nature in the bedroom that drives me out of my mind.
I think it’s the fact that despite his dominance, I’m perfectly safe. He will never push me past my
limits or force me to do something I don’t want. I’m really the one in control. One word would stop
everything. I trust him that much. “I have a proposal.”

“Let’s hear it.”

I purposefully move my hips against him. He’s still naked and he is at full attention. I have a
proposal too, depending on what's about to come out of his mouth.

“We both need a shower,” he says. “And I need you.” He rocks his hips against me, and I gasp at
the friction. I might have his tunic on, but I’m not wearing a thing under it and it’s not like it takes
much to make me want him. “Why don’t we take this to the shower? I’ll take you against the wall,
then we’ll act like civilized humans and go plan a war.”

“‘Civilized’ and ‘plan a war’ probably don’t belong in the same sentence,” I say. “But your
proposal is sufficient. I approve.”
He kisses me hard, then pushes off me. He slides out of bed, and I go to follow.

“Stay put,” he directs in that tone of his that says it’s an order – that I can choose to follow or not.
“The water takes a few minutes to warm up. Given your disapproval of my preferred sleeping
environment, call it an assumption that you might protest a cold shower.” He leans over and kisses
me again. “I’ll call you when it’s hot.”

“That wins you several boyfriend bonus points,” I tell him as he retreats to the bathing chambers.

“Good,” he calls over his shoulder. “I can guarantee I’m going to need them for when I inevitably
piss you off.”

He disappears into the bathing chamber, and I smile up at the ceiling. It feels wrong to be this
happy given everything we’re facing down, but I am and I am not sorry about it. We could be in
the middle of fighting for our lives at the turn of any given hour. I’m going to take this happiness
while I can.

Xaden calls me a few minutes later and I hurry across the chilly room. The bathing chamber is
steamy and warm, and Xaden is already in the shower.

“Hurry up, Violence,” he calls. “It’s lonely in here.”

I roll my eyes and pull his tunic off. I toss it aside and step into the shower.

Wet Xaden is my new favorite Xaden.

My gods, it should be illegal for a man to look that good with water pouring down on him. His dark
hair is black under the spray and little rivers follow the carvings that are his muscles. I swear, the
droplets beading on his shoulder make him glow.

Holy hell, this man is mine.

“Get over here.”

He pulls me to him, and he kisses me with absolute possession. I let him because he owns me,
body, soul, and especially, heart. I’m pretty sure I own him the same way.

“Fuck, your lips,” he breathes. “I can’t get enough.”

“Are you making love to me?” I ask him as I run my hands down his chest with every intention of
taking him in my hand. “Or are you going to fuck me?”

His eyes are smoldering as he takes me in.

“I’m going to fuck you.” He puts his hands on my hips. “You’re going to take it.” My knees are
actually weak. He turns me around. “It’s not just my bed I’ve daydreamed about taking you in. I
have had a lot of fantasies about you and I in the shower, too.” He kisses my neck. “It’s going to be
quick and dirty, Violence.”

“Holy hell,” I breathe. He keeps his hands on my hips, navigates me towards the wall.

“You drive me insane.” He pulls me back against him. I feel the length of him hard against my
back. We’re both under the spray of the shower and the hot water feels good. He’s about to make
me feel even better. “Feel what you do to me.”

I reach back, find him, squeeze. He grunts, thrusts into my hand, lets his head rest against mine.
He’s in charge and yet I’m the one holding all the power.

“This list of yours,” I manage. “What if I have my own list of fantasies?”

“We’ll check off every box,” he promises. “And then we’ll come up with new ones.” He moves
me another couple of steps forward. “Hands on the wall, Violence. Leave them there.” I do as I’m
told. “Good girl.” Yep, I was right. Definitely like it when he calls me that in this scenario. “Now
spread your legs for me.” I do. His hands are still on my hips. His grip tightens as he leans his body
against mine. “You okay?”

And that is why I feel safe with him when he’s like this. He’s always going to check in, make sure
I’m okay, that he’s not hurting me. For all his domineering, he is as honorable and respectful as
he’s always been when it comes to me.

“I’m perfect,” I manage. “Fuck me, Xaden.”

“Are you ready for me?” One hand moves from my hip to between my legs. I mewl and rock my
hips against his touch. He slips a finger in me and groans in approval. He adds a second.
“Insatiable,” he says. “You have no idea how hot it is that you want me like this.”

“All the time.” It comes out stuttered as pleasure starts to ripple through me. “I want you all the
time, Xaden.”

“Glad I’m not the only one suffering from that affliction.” He adds a third finger and my knees
buckle. His strong arm slides around my hips, holds me upright. His lips are by my ear again.
“You’re sure you’re not too sore?”

“I’m fine,” I grit out. “I will not be fine if you hold out much longer.

“Well then.” He presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss to my neck. “Let’s get me in you.”

He enters with a hard stroke that makes me cry out.

“Xaden!”

“I’ve got you.” His grip on my hips is sure. He strokes into me again, then holds it deep, leans in
again. “Tell me if I’m too rough.”

“I will,” I nod.

“I mean it, Violet. I’m horny as hell and I’ve fucking missed being balls deep in you. If I get
carried away, I need you to speak up.”

“I promise.” I try to move against him. “Stop talking about what you’re going to do and do it.”

Quick and dirty isn’t the right phrase for what he does to me. He pounds into me. It’s a ruthless
pace and he’s so very deep in me. It feels so good, and I somehow want more and can’t take any
more at the same time. I press my hands into the wall, let him absolutely wreck me all over again
as the shower sprays around us. I can’t stop the lightning from erupting from me and when he slips
a hand between my legs in time with when his cock starts to pulse, I can’t be sure the bolt that
screams from me doesn’t split the sky right in half.

“Violet!”

He erupts inside me, and the room goes black around us from his shadows. His hot, relentless
stream sends aftershocks through me that would have me on the floor if he wasn’t holding me up.
He collapses against me, catches me when I nearly fold from the exertion. He gathers me to his
chest and for a few minutes, we stand together under the shower spray, coming down from the
intensity of being together while the shadows dissipate around us.

“This isn’t normal, Violet,” he says as his hand rubs circles on my back. “The way we are together.
I can’t control myself.”

“I can’t either,” I admit, even as I tighten my embrace around him. I need him close. I can’t explain
it. I just – need to be close to him. “It’s like I can’t not be with you, even if it’s just us sitting in the
same room.”

“Like there’s something inside you that says it needs to be near me,” Xaden nods, putting words to
my thoughts. “I feel like that, too. Back at Basgiath, I thought it was just the attraction, maybe the
‘I want you but I can’t have you,’ of the situation. I struggled when we were apart, thought a lot of
that was guilt. I still think a lot of that was guilt. But not all of it. I think some of it was just needing
to be near you. The moment you were back here, something shifted and now I can’t go more than a
few hours without laying eyes on you, being in your presence.”

“It’s like that for me, too,” I nod. I look up at him. The gold flecks in his eyes are especially vibrant
right now. I think, maybe, they have gotten brighter since I’ve been back. “It feels like it means
something, Xaden. Like our connection is more than just two people who are stupidly in love with
one another.”

“You’re stupidly in love with me?” he questions with that smirk of his.

“I am,” I confirm. “I’m pretty sure the feeling is mutual.”

“It is very, very mutual,” he confirms. He leans down, gives me a soft, sweet kiss. “I’m not going
to question whatever this is between us. I need it – need you – too much.”

“Agreed.”

Mated dragons or not, he has become as integral to my being as air.

“Can I wash your hair?” he asks as he plays with the ends, twisting them around his fingers,
mesmerized as always by my thick strands.

“It’s a task,” I warm him. Because it is. My hair is long and thick and can be a righteous pain in my
ass, but I won’t cut it. He loves it too much, and honestly, I’m pretty fond of it, too. My very own
quiet rebellion against my mom when I felt like not cutting my hair to enter the Rider’s Quadrant
was one of the only choices I had left that was strictly mine. Still, there’s a reason I only wash it a
couple of times a week if I can get away with it. “You sure you’re up for it?”

“I’m up for anything with you,” he replies.

We end up with a cold shower because of the time it takes us to wash one another with all the
making out and touching we do. I’m chilled to the bone when I step out and Xaden, wonderful man
that he is, wraps me in a towel and then uses his lesser magic to stoke a fire in the much smaller
fireplace in the bathing chamber. He puts me next to it, lets me warm up while he makes quick
work of getting dressed. The fire helps with drying my hair and he steps out of the room while I
braid it for the day because apparently even that will send him over the edge.

Breakfast is well underway by the time we make our way through the halls, my hand wrapped
around his bicep. I love that he does this with me, that he offers his arm to escort me like we’re not
deadly on our own, absolutely lethal together. It’s sweet – a word he cringes when I use it to
describe him, but that he is nonetheless, at least with me.

“For the record?” he asks as we approach the dining room. I can hear the cacophony of our friends
– our family – eating breakfast, preparing for the day. It makes me smile. “If Brennan asks about
the lightning storms last night and this morning, you get to tell him what caused it.”

“You’re going to make me face my brother all on my own?” I ask.

“I absolutely am,” he nods. “He might be one of my best friends, but he’s your brother and the idea
of looking him in the eye and saying ‘that’s what happens when I fuck your sister’ does not seem
like it would result in a good start to my day.”

“I think you had an excellent start to your day,” I counter.

“You know what I mean.” He pinches my side and I yelp. He chuckles, then takes a breath. “You
ready for this? They’re going to be in rare form. You didn’t have to deal with Garrick the mornings
after before.”

“Garrick got us out of bed…”

“And mercilessly teased me for the entirety of the time it took us to get ready to fly,” he says.
“Never mind what I had to suffer after the first time and when I made him help move a new
armoire into your room.”

“They won’t be that bad…”

We walk in and the entire room stops talking. All eyes fall to us.

“Told you,” Xaden mutters.

I look around. Rhiannon catches my eye with a big grin that says she wants details. Imogen, too,
has a knowing look on her face, but she would never want to willingly discuss my sex life. Sloane
looks appropriately confused having never experienced one of our lightning storms while Garrick
has a shit-eating grin on his face and Sawyer isn’t much better off. Bohdi is minding his own
business and is very interested in the french toast on his plate which makes him the only one I like
right now.

Brennan looks – perplexed.

I guess the silver lining is that Ridoc and Mira aren’t here. Ridoc would have a whole standup
routine prepared by now to roast us, and well, confessing to one sibling is more than I’m interested
in doing this morning, let alone having both of them here to hear it at once.

“Alright, get it out,” Xaden orders. “You have two minutes, and then it’s no longer a discussion
point.”

“Xaden,” I hiss.

“Better to give them a forum and a time limit than to let them have open season on us all day,” he
says and dammit, that’s a good point. I huff. He chuckles.

“You should really consider providing your guests with earplugs,” Garrick says. I wonder how
long he’s been sitting on that one, because he’s too damn gleeful to voice it. “If you’re going to be
waking us up…”
“I’m just jealous,” Rhiannon says. “If I had someone make me feel like that…” She reaches for the
syrup as casually as if she just said it’s raining today. Which it is, I note.

“As someone at this table who has slept with you, I’m offended,” Sawyer pipes up.

“I’m not saying you were bad,” Rhiannon shrugs. “I’m just saying - no lightning. If you catch my
drift.”

I hate them, I say to Xaden.

I’m feeling pretty damn proud of myself. I scoff at him, and he chuckles.

“I had to have Imogen fill me in,” Sloane pipes up. “It’s – true?”

Brennan, I notice, hasn’t said a word. He’s observing, calculating. This is going to get even more
awkward very soon.

“Of course it’s true,” Garrick says. “Anytime there seems to be a random streak of lightning, you
can almost guarantee these two…”

“I, for one, am just glad everyone is together and happy,” Bohdi cuts him off. He stabs his french
toast with enthusiasm.

“Guess which one of you I like best right now?” I ask. Bohdi salutes me with his fork while he
chews.

“I don’t even care,” Garrick says. He truly doesn’t. “Xaden has needed to get…” He chokes on his
own words. I look at Xaden with a raised eyebrow. He shrugs an innocent shoulder, but I look back
just in time to see a shadow slink away from Garrick who is rubbing his throat and glaring at
Xaden.

“Anyone want to tell me what’s going on?” Brennan questions.

The room goes quiet once more.

All you, Violence.

Now I glare at him.

“I’ll make you a plate,” he says. He leans in to kiss my hair. “Love you.”

“I don’t like you very much,” I hiss at him.

As long as you love me, I can deal with that.

He strides over to the breakfast buffet without a care in the world. I strongly consider sending a zap
of lightning at him.

I might let you roast him, I say to Tairn.

I can’t roast him just because you’re annoyed with him, Tairn replies. Besides, your lightning kept
us up, too. I’m annoyed with you as well.

I hate everyone.

Except Bohdi.
Still like him.

For now.

“Well?” Brennan prompts.

“Well?” Garrick echoes with absolute glee. He’s hit from behind, hard, by an invisible force. He
lurches forward, almost ends up with his face in his food. He turns to glare at Xaden. “Would you
fucking stop that?”

“Stop being a fucking prick then,” Xaden replies without turning away from where he is
systematically loading two plates with food. That’s how I help, he adds to me. He’s in a little less
trouble now.

“I’m not sure you want to know,” I say to Brennan.

“I’m not going to be in the dark about whatever this is while everyone else knows – whatever this
is,” Brennan says.

“I’d take the chance to not know if I were you,” Imogen supplies. He ignores her, keeps his focus
on me.

“Violet.”

“You sound like Dad,” I say, stalling.

“Spit it out.”

I huff.

“Fine, but remember, you insisted on knowing and Imogen warned you that you might not want to
know.” I cross my arms and look at him. All eyes are on me – except Xaden who is still busying
himself taking an absolute eternity to get food. “When I’m – overstimulated…” Half the table
giggles. The other half snorts into their food.

We’re sending children to war, I say to Xaden, well-aware that I’m the youngest in the room aside
from Sloane. I was barely old enough to be conscripted when I was.

Children on dragons, he quips. Overstimulated? That’s what we’re calling mind-blowing, window
shattering, furniture-destroying sex?

“Violet,” Brennan stresses my name. I huff and pull my attention away from Xaden.

“When I’m overstimulated, I lose control of my lightning,” I state. “Suffices to say, I was
overstimulated last night and again this morning.”

It takes Brennan a moment to understand what I’m saying. Then his face crumbles.

“Oh dear gods,” he groans. “I did not need to know that!”

“I told you,” Imogen says. “Garrick has a good point about earplugs. Might want some blackout
curtains, too.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Rhiannon muses. “It’s not the noise, so much as all the flashing.”

“Can we not?” Brennan asks, exasperated.

“Time’s up,” Xaden announces. He places a plate of food at my usual seat. “Discussion time is
over.”

“About the blackout curtains,” Garrick starts. Xaden’s look stops him. “Right. New topic. Imogen,
want to spar today?”

I sit down to eat, noting Xaden stacked my plate of food like he is the one eating all of this, and
pick up my fork. I actually am starving, given all the physical exertion from the night before and
this morning.

Chances are good Brennan is going to get me to spar with him later so he can try to kick my ass,
Xaden says down the bond.

It’s a little too late for him to try to defend his sister’s honor.

He approves of us, for what it’s worth. He told me that not long after you left for Basgiath.

You talked about me to my brother?

All the time, he reveals, sending me a little smile across the table. If I couldn’t be with you and
could only talk to you when you let the shield down, talking about you with your brother was the
next best thing.

Gods, I love him.

The rest of breakfast is uneventful. Morning Brief is thorough with multiple new reports coming in,
word of another venin attack a few hours away from Athebyne, and updates on weapon supply and
potential allies. Afterward, Xaden leaves to oversee a training flight and I intend to spend some
time studying maps and reviewing the information we have. We need to move soon, and we need a
plan. Lots of ideas have been lobbed about, but none of them have stuck. We need to settle on how
we’re moving forward.

Brennan hangs back as I settle in the chair Xaden just abandoned to get to work.

“Got a minute?” he asks even as he takes a seat in a chair across from me.

“I’d desperately like to say no,” I counter. “But I guess it's best we get this over with.”

“It’s just… I feel like I need to…” He stops, runs a hand over his face. “Gods, this is awkward.”

“Feel free to not have this conversation with me,” I offer. I do not want to talk to my brother about
my sex life.

“Dad’s gone,” he says. “And Mom is – Mom. Someone needs to bring it up, so it will have to be
me. I just want to make sure – you’re being safe, right? With Xaden?” My eyes blow big. My
brother is asking me if I’m being safe about sex. This is a thing that is happening right now. “I
know this is awkward,” he rushes on. “It’s just… You’re the baby sister, and I’m the big brother
and I have to make sure…” He stops, shakes his head. “I know Riorson wants to marry you and
have kids with you, but it’s just not a good time to have babies running around…”

“Wait, stop.” I hold up a hand because I heard something far more important than Brennan’s
questioning my safe sex habits. Brennan shuts up. “Xaden wants to get married and have kids?”

Brennan looks like I’ve caught him in the act of something terrible.
“Apparently that’s not something you two have discussed.”

“We only just got back together,” I remind him. “There will be no marriage or babies for the
foreseeable future for a number of reasons, including the fact that I’d rather not be figuring out
how to be a mom in the middle of a war.”

“Forget I said that,” he says. Like I can. “That’s between you and Xaden. I’m just trying to pull the
pseudo parent card and make sure you’re protecting yourself.”

“I’ve been taking the fertility supplement since I was fifteen,” I inform him. I’m glad he looks as
awkward as I feel. “Mira gave me the birds and the bees talk. We’re safe. There will be no wartime
babies from us.”

“He’s good to you?” Brennan continues. “Treats you well? I mean, he seems to, seems like he
would do absolutely anything for you, but…”

I go from being mortified to softening towards my brother in the span of a moment. He really is
just looking out for me, despite how awkward it all is.

“He’s wonderful,” I tell him. “He always has been, even when I thought he hated me. He wasn’t as
obvious about it, but he has always treated me well, Brennan. You don’t have to worry.” I smile.
“He loves me. I love him. And I trust him entirely.”

“Good,” he nods. “That’s a relief.” He exhales a breath. “There is one more thing. I was going to
give you a choice, but since I had to learn that the brilliant displays of lightning last night and this
morning came from my sister and my best friend getting it on,” I snort as his description and he
glares which just makes me laugh, “you no longer get to say no.”

“I’ll say no if I damn well want to,” I inform him. His glare grows. I can’t believe I forgot how fun
it is to piss him off. “What do you want?”

“Angelique invited you – and Xaden – to dinner at her place tonight. She wants to meet you.”

“A double date,” I say. “I’m intrigued.”

“Don’t make a big deal out of it,” he warns. “It’s not a date. It’s dinner.”

“Oh I am going to make a very big deal out of it,” I inform him. “Little sister, remember? This is in
my actual job description.”

“Violet, I mean it…”

“It’s also going to be fun informing Xaden he’s going on a double date tonight,” I continue. “He’s
not much of a ‘date’ guy, but he’ll do it for me.”

Xaden is more of a presumed dead leader of a rebellion kind of a guy rather than a going on double
dates with his girlfriend and her brother kind of guy. Which, apparently, is exactly how I like my
men. As rebels that manage to get their hands on violets months after their growing season just to
tell me they love me while wielding the ability to kill an enemy in the span of a breath.

“I retract the invitation,” Brennan decides. “I’ll tell Angelique something war-related came up…”

“Nope, we’re going,” I say. “My favorite part about all of it? I get to tell Mira when she gets back
that I met your girlfriend without her. She’s going to flip out, make you introduce her immediately,
and don’t forget, she, too, is your little sister, so it’s also in her job description to make this as
difficult for you possible. She’s a hell of a lot pettier than I am though, so good luck.”

“Fucking sisters,” he grumbles as he stands. “I’m going to go – anywhere else.”

“See you at dinner!” I call to his retreating back. He gives me the middle finger and slams the door
behind him. I laugh, then reach out to Xaden. We’re going to dinner at Angelique’s tonight.

We’re what?

Dinner at Angeliques, I repeat. She invited us. I want to meet her, and Brennan just gave me a hard
time about our sex life, so we’re going and I’m going to tell her stories about when he was a kid.
I’ll be using the time between now and then to think of the most embarrassing ones possible.

We’re going to dinner… At Angelique’s…

It’s called a double date, Sgaeyl pipes in.

You have no say in the matter, Tairn adds with a certain resignation that can only come from being
told what to do by a significant other. That makes him my favorite dragon at present.

Fine, Xaden sighs. I’ll tell you what you owe me when we don’t have an audience.

Like we aren’t aware that you two can’t keep your hands off one another, Sgaeyl says.

I chuckle and spend the next several hours deep in work, planning, strategizing, reading. Sgaeyl
receives a report from Carr’s dragon that Basgiath has officially called off the search for us – and
Marucm Cole – and that opens up a sense of relief – for now. There will be something else to
worry about soon enough. I spend lunch ruffling Brennan’s feathers about dinner and admiring
how Xaden looks when he pouts, because Xaden Riorson is definitely pouting about having to go
to dinner tonight. Sgaeyl calls it ridiculous, I call it adorable. Next thing I know, him and Brennan
are storming off to spar with each other and both of them are grumbling about me.

Men.

Come dinnertime though, we are seated around the table at Angelique’s small home in clean
clothes and on our best behavior. She has made an impressive meal and I like her.

I like her a lot.

She’s kind, soft-spoken, affectionate with Brennan in a way that squeezes at my heart. He is softer
with her, too, gentle in a way I’ve never seen him. We meet her boys who were a little overexcited
about the Commanding General being at their house at first, but a stern but caring word from her
set them straight and they are over Xaden’s appearance in an instant, turning instead to Brennan
who it is clear they adore. It’s also clear that the feeling is mutual.

You okay, Violence?

Xaden appears to be listening intently to the dinner conversation. He has one arm draped over the
back of my chair and has been working his way through his plate of food with the other, but I know
he’s picked up on my shift in mood since being here.

He’s really happy, I say. He loves her.

He does. He brushes my hair off my shoulder. I have it half down tonight, and I had to all but drag
him out of our bedroom to avoid losing my clothes and messing up the hairstyle I took far too long
on for a casual dinner. I know the look of a man in love. It’s the same one I have when I look in the
mirror these days.

Damn him and his smooth words. I reach up, catch his hand, give it a squeeze. I try to be subtle,
but Angelique notices and shoots me a smile. She’s been doing that all evening, giving me a little
grin or soft smile when she catches Xaden and I being affectionate towards one another. I don’t
think we’re overly affectionate by any means, but there are plenty of innocent touches, me asking
Xaden if he wanted an appetizer, Xaden offering to refill my glass when he noticed it was empty.
Small things, things that show we both care. Small things that seem so novel because they are
normal when nothing about our relationship has been normal so far.

“Oh wow!”

Every eye turns to Angelique, the story Xaden and Brennan were in the middle of about some
restorative work around Aretia falling dead.

“Sorry,” she blushes. “It’s just, I noticed… Commandant Riorson’s eyes.”

“What about them?” Xaden asks in a weary way.

“I’ve never seen eyes like yours,” she says. “Black with gold flecks.” Her eyes flick to me. “Like
Violet’s dragons.”

Angelique is unaware of the impact her words have on the three of us. We do a good job of not
meeting each other’s eyes, but now that she’s pointed it out, Xaden’s eyes are unique. They do
reflect my dragons. I don’t understand it, but it feels like it means something. It’s too on the nose to
be a coincidence – isn’t it?

“I made things weird,” she says after the silence goes too long. “I’m sorry…”

“No, not at all,” I assure her. “It’s just…” I glance at Xaden who looks like he’s thinking through
something and decide to share at least a little of Xaden and I’s connection with her. “Xaden and I
have an especially intense connection. His eyes matching my dragons is just one more thing that
further supports it.”

Everything okay? I ask him.

I’m just trying to put it all together. She has a point.

“I noticed,” she says, oblivious to us speaking to one another mind to mind. “The connection
between you, I mean. I may sound crazy, but I’ve always had a bit of a gift with reading people’s
energy. That’s how I knew Brennan was as genuine as he presented to be, despite his past.” They
share a smile that makes my heart warm. I really like her. “You and Commandant Riorson…”

“You can call me Xaden,” Xaden interrupts. He’s told her that a few times now, but she continues
to use his title.

“Old habits die hard, I’m afraid,” she says to him with a smile. “As I was saying, the pair of you,
there is just something more to your connection. You remind me of my grandparents.” Her smile is
fond if not a little sad at the mention of them. “They passed several years ago, when my boys were
young, and my husband was still alive. Grandmother died first, Grandfather not two days later. We
always knew they wouldn’t be able to live without one another. Have you heard about the golden
thread theory?”

“No…” I shake my head.

“It’s silly,” she shrugs a shoulder, “but my grandparents swore by it. It’s folklore from the
mountains around here, where my grandmother was raised, where people keep some of our old
ways. The theory says that while most of us find someone to love, sometimes even deeply, a rare
few people in life are destined for one another. There is a gold thread that ties them together. No
matter what obstacles are in their path, they somehow always find one another. It’s not just a union
of love, even though there is an infinite amount of it between them. They join to do something
great for the good of humanity. It’s their destiny. Their golden thread.”

“Were your grandparents tied together by this golden thread?” I ask.

“I know I sound insane,” she says in response.

“Trust me, you don’t,” I say. Xaden’s hand is on my thigh now. He squeezes it to remind me he’s
there, to confirm that he’s thinking along the same lines.

“My grandparents were certain they were tied together by a golden thread. I swear, golden threads
literally found them. We would be cooking in the kitchen and I’d look over and a gold thread was
unraveling from Grandmother’s apron, or Grandfather would come in from chores outside and he
would have a gold thread perched on his shoulder.”

“What was their great act for the greater good?” Brennan asks. I can tell he believes her, too. Or
that he’s at least cataloging all of this for further research into Xaden and I’s bond.

“Grandmother had dreams,” she says. “Premonitions. She always knew when something terrible
was going to happen, even when something great was going to happen. People thought she was a
crazy old lady. Grandfather always believed her. She started to have this horrific dream about
heavy rains and landslides, the kind that would wipe out their entire village. No one believed her,
but Grandfather did. He went to work building a dam. She helped him. People thought they were
utterly mad. Then a freak storm whipped up. Half the mountain they lived on slid away in
mudslides, but their meager little dam protected a whole village.” She smiles. “That same village
eventually moved into Aretia. Most all of them are gone now, but they played a large role in
helping to establish the place as the city it was. Most of us here are descended from them.”

“They saved an entire population,” Xaden sums up.

“Again, it’s silly,” she shakes her head. “It’s just – you two seem to have what they had. It’s a
really beautiful thing.” She seems embarrassed that she’s said so much. “How about dessert, yeah?
I made a pie…”

An hour later, Xaden and I walk back to the fortress hand-in-hand. He’s been uncharacteristically
quiet.

“You going to tell me what’s on your mind, or am I going to have to pry it out of you?” I ask.

“I’ve just been thinking about this whole golden thread thing,” he says. “I don’t rule out anything,
given the venin and wyvern are straight out of folklore, but that theory in particular… It kind of
makes sense when it comes to us.”

“I’ve been thinking about that too,” I admit. “Like I said in the shower this morning, I feel like
there is more to our connection.”

Catching on, are you? comes Tairn’s voice.

Not a chance in hell you’re going to tell us what you mean, is there? I push back. They have been
increasingly secretive lately and I don’t like it, not after they lied to me before. They pull “dragon
law” anytime we get too close to getting answers from them and it’s as annoying as hell. The only
comfort I have is that Sgaeyl is playing the same shit with Xaden.

“I’ve also been thinking about something Sgaeyl said early on,” Xaden continues. He’s half
present, half lost to his thoughts. “The first day I met you, actually. I was caught off guard by how
I reacted to you, how my body seemed to just know you. I was stewing on it and Sgaeyl said ‘like
reacts to like.’ I’d forgotten all about it until tonight.”

“Tairn said something like that when we flew into Aretia,” I recall. “I felt something shift when we
crossed the wards. I didn’t know there were wards up at the time, but it felt like something inside
me shifted into place. Tairn asked if I felt that and when I asked what it was, he said ‘like calls to
like.’”

“I felt the moment you crossed the wards,” Xaden admitted. “I was sitting in my office practically
spitting razors I was so on edge waiting for you to arrive and I felt that same sort of shift in me. I
just knew you were within Aretia’s boundaries. I checked your location, and you were.”

“What does it all mean?” I wonder.

He opens his mouth to answer, but a sharp, short-lived noise stops us both in our tracks. It sounds
like a dagger being drawn. My hand flies to mine. Xaden’s is already drawn.

What was that? I ask as I search the area. It’s not much use though. It’s dark, cloudy, what little
moon that’s visible no more than a sliver of a new moon. We can’t see more than a few yards in
any direction.

No idea. Stay close.

He releases his shadows. They ripple past, one of them brushing along my cheek as they go. I
know he’s sent them to search.

We hear it again. It sounds like it’s behind us this time. It’s followed by the faintest sound of
giggling.

“Show yourself,” Xaden orders.

Nothing.

Any intel? I ask the dragons.

None, all three reply.

We’re headed your way, Tairn says. Just in case.

“This is Commandant Riorson speaking.” Gone is the Xaden who was just talking to me about our
connection with a certain sense of wonder even in the confusion of what it means for us. In his
place is Commanding General Riorson, a formidable man I wouldn’t want to cross. “I’m ordering
you to show yourself.”

Nothing.

Anything from your shadows?

Nothing yet.

I decide to try something. I summon my lightning. It starts as a ball in my hand, and then, under my
guidance, it branches out, searching the skies just as Xaden’s shadows search the ground. It
provides us light, but it reveals nothing. I call it back to me.

Looks like you’ve gotten pretty good at wielding that stuff, he comments.

Scarily so, I agree. I can control my lightning with the kind of precision he controls his shadows
with these days. Unless his hands or his mouth is on me or his cock is in me, apparently.

“Last chance,” his voice booms. “Show yourself or risk one of us running a dagger through you
when we find you.”

We hear it one more time. It’s further away this time, sounds like it’s above us. I send my lightning
in that direction.

Nothing.

Anything? I ask the dragons.

Your lightning is pretty, Andarna replies. But nothing else.

Her lightning is deadly, not beautiful, Tairn snips at her.

Go back to the fortress, Sgaeyl directs. We’ll stay overhead.

Keep your dagger out, Xaden tells me like I wasn’t going to be doing that anyway. Stay close.

It takes ten minutes to get back to the gate. I feel a sense of safety the moment we step through it. I
sheathe my dagger, but Xaden doesn’t. He stands in the gateway, searching. I watch him for a few
moments, until it’s clear he’s not going to come away willingly.

“Hey.” I put my hand on his shoulder, and he startles. “We’re safe now.” I run my hand down his
arm, wrap it around his wrist. “Let’s put this away.” I use my other hand to take his dagger. He lets
me, allows me to slide it back into his sheathe. I take his hand. “Come inside.”

I have to tug on his hand a couple of times, but he moves. There is something more happening here
than just a mysterious sound. I don’t know what, but it has Xaden in its clutches.

“Our room or your office?” I ask.

“Office,” he grunts. That sparks him. He walks with purpose, all but dragging me with him. He
drops my hand once we’re in the office, and he marches to the large window, stands before it,
hands on his hips, searching even though there is no chance he will see anything in the valley
below between the new moon and the cloudy night.

I hang back and watch him. He’s on edge, worried. I’m on edge, too, but Xaden has gone
somewhere else.

Anything? I ask the dragons.

We felt something, but we see nothing, Tairn answered.

All clear, Andarna reports.

Help him, Sgaeyl demands. He’s in his head. I roll my eyes.

Like I’m just going to stand here.

 I approach him slowly. He feels wild, like he might turn dangerous. Not towards me – never
towards me – but if someone were to cross him right now, it may not go well for them.

“Xaden?”

He doesn’t reply right away. I stand beside him, wait. He’s lost in his head. I promised him I would
beat on the door until he let me in, and so I will.

“Xaden.” I put a hand on his shoulder. He tenses but otherwise doesn’t react. “Xaden, what’s going
on here? I’m missing something.” The breath he draws in shakes. “Talk to me.”

“You’re going to think I’m crazy.”

“Try me,” I counter. He finally turns his eyes to me, and I see something that scares me more than
any venin. I see fear. True fear. Xaden Riorson is a lot of things. He is not fearful. He draws
another shaking breath.

“I think that was my mom.”

Chapter End Notes

Violet as the "little sister" was too fun. So was Garrick. He feels like that grown adult
man who has so much potential but is still such a bro... Then there is this whole golden
thread thing that they are rather curious about because Xaden had a point, their
reaction to one another? Not normal.

And of course... the potential return of... Mom...

I'll be over here obsessively watching for a notification that my copy of Iron Flam has
shipped from Amazon given that's due to arrive on Wednesday. Holding my breath -
my special edition of Fourth Wing got delayed until Sunday...

Here's to hoping Iron Flame gives us everything we want while knowing it'll probably
rip us apart. Spotless will still be here waiting for you. ❤️

Thank you thank you thank you for reading. I make sure I say it every time. Your
comments keep me going, especially as I get to the final chapters from a writing
perspective. I have loved sharing this story with you. Who knows? If I hate Iron
Flame, maybe I'll write a fix it fic, lol.

If you want to see how I'm prepping for Iron Flame, follow me over on Instagram:
@SarahWylandWrites

Also? Next update is... action-packed.

 Chapter 22
Chapter Notes

Happy Iron Flame week? (No spoilers here! Just - an alternative?)

See the end of the chapter for more notes

“Start over,” Garrick says. “You were walking back to the fortress…”

I blow out my annoyance, push myself out of my desk chair, and start to pace. I feel Violet’s eyes
on me, watching, worrying. I didn’t shut down on her, didn’t push her out, but she can feel the way
I’m coiled tight, ready to strike. She won’t be on the receiving end of it, but I can’t guarantee
Garrick, Bohdi, or Brennan won’t be.

“We were walking back, talking, and we heard what sounded like a dagger being drawn,” Violet
tells them for the third fucking time. “We heard it a couple more times. It was moving around us,
whatever it was. It giggled a few times.”

“Are we certain it wasn’t a kid playing a prank?” Bohdi asks. His eyes are on me. They haven’t left
me. He senses what I know – I’m barely holding it together. As farfetched as it seems, I know what
I heard.

“It wasn’t a fucking prank,” I say. “It was my fucking mom.”

“I just don’t see how…”

I know what I heard!” I roar. Garrick falls quiet, holds up his hands in surrender. A feeling of calm
starts to creep through the room. Bohdi’s second signet. I turn my glare on Bohdi. “Don’t fuck with
me.” The calm shies away and tension refills the room. “Stop questioning me, stop trying to fuck
with my mood.”

I keep pacing.

“Give us a minute?” Violet asks Bohdi and Garrick. “I’ll find you in a few.” They are all too happy
to scramble out of the room and away from my towering mood. I love Violet with all I have, but
I’m not sure I want even her around right now. She waits until the door shuts behind them before
she approaches me. “Xaden, I need you to calm down.”

Not we need you to calm down. Not they need you to calm down. She needs me to calm down. I
want to, but something about this encounter has tossed me over the edge. Still, she comes behind
me, puts her hands on my shoulders, and some of the tension melts away. Not much, but enough
that I notice.

“The fuck was she doing here, Violet? What did she want? How did she get in? Why didn’t she
show herself?”

I have so many fucking questions.

“Sit down,” she directs. I don’t. I’m wound too tight to not be on my feet right now. “Okay, don’t
sit down.” She moves around me and perches in the windowsill. “Walk me through this, Xaden.
Tell me why you think that was your mother.”

“I just know it was,” I snap. “Why can’t anyone accept that?”

She purses her lips to keep from saying whatever just came to the tip of her tongue. I love her, but
I’m in a fighting mood and she knows it. If she chooses to go toe-to-toe with me right now, that’s
on her.

“Your mother hasn’t been seen in Aretia in eighteen years. What would bring her back, Xaden?”

“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be pacing this office, would I?”

She’s being reasonable and I am not. I don’t have reasonable in me. Not right now. I can’t explain
it to any of them. I can’t put into words what I feel right now. All I know for sure is that was my
mother. She was in Aretia. They can believe me or not. I know what I know, and I know the fact
that she was here has shaken me to my core.

“We’re trying to help.” She stays calm. I don’t know how she’s so calm when I’m like this, but I
guess one of us has to be. “The dragons have been patrolling. They haven’t seen anything. We sent
guards out to search the town. Brennan is leading them. No one has found anything yet.”

“She’s long gone,” I say. “She’ll be back though. I won’t let her get away next time.” I make up my
mind. “I’m joining the search.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

“She wanted me, Violence.” I stride towards the wall of weapons behind my desk. “She’ll get
me.”

“Xaden…”

“It’s not a discussion item.”

I start strapping myself with daggers.

“You’re not in the headspace to go out there,” she says as she slides off the windowsill and onto her
feet.

“I’m fine.” I decide to take a sword.

“You’re not. You just said she’s long gone…”

“I told you, Violet, this isn’t up for discussion.”

“Fine,” she decides from somewhere behind me. “Can you at least wait until I can change into
something more appropriate for a search party before you storm off? I’d rather have my flight
boots on for this.”

“You’re not going.” I drop another knife into the sleeve of my flight jacket, just in case.

“I am,” she informs me. “Because you don’t need to go alone and of the available options, I
probably stand the best chance of making you back down from doing something stupid. I’ll be
right back. I’ll bring you a flight jacket.”

She leaves and I hear her tell Garrick and Bohdi not to let me leave until she’s back. She’s got three
minutes before I’m storming out of here, and I’d like to see the two of them try to stop me.
She’s right. You need to calm down.

I am calm, I snap back at Sgaeyl.

No, Commandant, you’re reckless, she pushes right back. Reckless people make mistakes.

You know that was her.

We don’t know that.

I seethe. Even my dragon doesn’t believe me.

Violet is back in two minutes, and I was definitely fucking counting. She’s dressed in flight
leathers and holds out a flight jacket to me.

“Here.”

I take it, shrug it on, set to buttoning it while Violet stands there with her arms crossed,
watching. Defiant. Fucking hot, but I’m not thinking about that right now.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I snap.

“Like what?” she questions with a snap of her own.

“Like you disapprove.”

“I do disapprove.” She stands firm, doesn’t back down under my glare. She has never been afraid
of me, never given me the wide berth others have. It’s one of the reasons I fell in love with her. It’s
also one of the things about her that can piss me off like no other. She’s the only one willing to try
to stand in my way when I’m like this and I’m not used to having someone stand in my way, at
least not someone in my way because they love me. “You are all but unhinged right now. You do
not need to go storming around Aretia in the dead of night looking for something or someone that
is long gone.”

“Just because you don’t believe me…”

“I have not once said I don’t believe you,” she pushes right back. “I would like some clarity on
why you are so certain you heard your mother, however.”

“I don’t need to explain myself.”

“You don’t,” she agrees. “But you should, and you know that.”

She’s not wrong, Sgaeyl chimes in.

I ignore her. I only have time for one challenging woman at the moment and the one in front of me
is the more formidable. Which is saying something.

Guess I’ll have to step it up, Sgaeyl snips. I huff and sheath a second sword to my back. May as
well take two.

“If you’re going with me, let’s go,” I state. I stride towards the door. Violet stands between me and
it and she doesn’t move. Irrational as I am, I’m still in control enough to not physically move her
out of the way like I’m more than capable of doing. “Fucking hell, Violet. What now?”

Anyone else, even the two guys in the hall I call my best friends, would back down with the way
I’m seething shadows and rage and a whole host of emotions I can’t pause long enough to identify.
Not Violet, though. She barely comes to my collarbone, but her solid presence fills the room. She
puts her hands on my chest and looks me in the eye.

“You told me you need me to bang on the door when you start to shut down,” she says. “This is
me, banging on the door, asking you to let me in.”

“I’m not shutting you out. You’re keeping me from finding that woman…”

“You are shutting me out.” She’s steadfast. “Talk to me Xaden. Take five minutes to breathe and
talk to me.” She continues to hold my eyes. “Tell me what’s going on in your head right now.
Please.”

I huff. She’s chinked my armor, and I desperately don’t want her to break it all the way down.

“I don’t have time for this, Violet.”

I see her disappointment and the chink gets deeper because fuck if I can stand to see her
disappointed in me.

“Fine.” She drops her hands, steps back, turns towards the door. “Let’s go then, Riorson.”

And just like that, the fight goes out of me at the sound of my last name falling from her lips.

Fuck, she’s good.

Her hand is on the handle to open the door, ready to walk through the streets of Aretia looking for
an unknown threat at least a dozen guards and several dragons haven’t been able to find because
she doesn’t want me to do it alone.

I am once again reminded that I do not deserve her.

“Violet.”

She stops, looks back at me.

I drop my head to my hands as the weight of the last hour catches up with me. She’s there, gentle as
she reaches for my hands, pulls them away from my face.

“Talk to me,” she all but whispers. “Please, Xaden.”

I keep her hand in mine and lead her back to my desk. I take a seat and pull her into my lap. I drop
my forehead to her shoulder and take some time to find comfort in her embrace first. She runs her
fingers through my hair – I think she’s realized I calm down when she does that, or maybe it’s just
her instinct – and waits me out.

“It was her giggle,” I say in a rough voice when I’m ready. “I don’t really remember her. I haven’t
been able to recall what she looks like in at least a dozen years. When I think of her, all I see is a
form of a woman with long blond hair reaching for my wrist to drag me to the closet.”

“I hate her,” Violet mumbles under her breath and that love, that loyalty, bolsters me in ways she
can’t possibly know.

“I do remember her giggle though,” I share. “I would sit in that dark closet and listen for someone
in the hall in hopes they were coming to let me out. I would hear her footsteps and she would float
by the door, not so much as a pause, and she was always giggling. I have no fucking idea about
what, but that giggle has stayed with me. I hear it in my dreams sometimes. And I heard it tonight. I
know I did.”

“Your mother was in Aretia tonight,” she nods. She believes me. I don’t know that she didn’t
before, but with that confession from me, she is wholly and fully on my side. “I don’t think she
wanted to be seen.”

“Why was she here?” I ask, knowing full well Violet won’t have an answer. “What does she
want?”

“I don’t know,” she shakes her head. “She had every opportunity to harm us. Our guard was down
and it’s so dark out. It seems like she just wanted us to know she was there.”

“Why?” I say again. “She hasn’t set foot inside these borders since Dad kicked her out eighteen
years ago.”

“I don’t know,” Violet repeats. She places a hand on my cheek, holds my eyes. “Regardless of why
she’s here, she can’t hurt you anymore, Xaden. I won’t let her.”

The last tether holding me steady breaks. I pull Violet to me, hide my face in her neck, let her arms
be safety. The logical part of me knows the man I am now is significantly more capable of
defending myself than the little boy I was back then. The part of me that never quite moved past
days spent locked in the closet is struggling to remember that.

“There is probably no point in searching for her tonight, is there?” I say when I’m calm down
enough to lift my head.

“She’s long gone,” Violet confirms. “For now, at least. I have a feeling she will be back. We will
be ready next time.”

“What could she want?” I wonder. “I don’t think it’s to rekindle a relationship with me.”

“We will have to catch her to find out,” Violet predicts. She brushes her hand through my hair
again. “How would you feel about calling it a night? It’s been a long day, and I think things might
look a little clearer in the morning?”

I agree. I call Bodhi and Garrick back into the office, give them what amounts to an apology
without ever actually saying I’m sorry, and dismiss them for the night. Brennan arrives, confirms
what the dragons have also confirmed – nothing to report. He leaves to spend the night at
Angelique’s and I’m grateful to join Violet in bed almost an hour after she suggested bedtime.

There is no sex tonight. Just the intimacy of sleeping together, her on my chest, my arms wrapped
tight around her. She falls asleep quickly, but I don’t. Instead, I lay awake and I wonder what the
hell my mom is doing in Aretia.

And why her presence feels so ominous.

I stand before the ornate double doors and take a deep breath. I lift my hands, rest them on the
handles. I take another breath. I have been here several times over these last few months, standing
here in this very place, but this time feels different.

This time feels like I might actually succeed.

I take one more breath and push. It takes some effort to move the heavy doors that have long been
kept closed tight. They part with a loud groan that reverberates down the hall. I’m grateful I’m
alone. It’s the middle of the day and everyone else is out on assignment. Even Violet is out, lost in
her work at the library.

My dad’s room is an accidental mausoleum. No one – not even me – has been in here in more than
six years. In the immediate aftermath of his death, the castle was left abandoned. With Navarre
forces rounding up so-called traitors and Aertia burning, people fled. It took a long time to
convince people to come back, to establish some sense of a new normal. I ordered my dad’s room
to be left alone, and those orders had been followed exactly. I always intended to come here, open
the doors, go through his things. I just – couldn’t.

Until now.

A heavy layer of dust covers every surface. My tentative footsteps leave prints in the layer of grime
coating the floor. I manage a handful of steps before I have to pause. Time has utterly stopped here,
so much so I look towards the bathing chamber, half expecting to see my dad walk out in a fresh set
of leathers, ready to tackle the day.

The room is immaculate aside from six years of neglect. Fen Riorson believed everything had a
place, that a well-ordered space reflected a well-ordered mind. I have always had his habit of
keeping my space neat, but I can say with certainty that a tidy sleeping quarters does not equate to a
tidy mind. On first glance, there is no sign that someone used to live here, that there used to be life
in this room. The dust and neglect sees to that. A second glance reveals otherwise.

The book he was reading is still on his nightstand. A glass sits next to it. Six years ago, that glass
would have held fresh water, set out for him by Ms. Jade before bed so he would have it the next
morning. I look towards the window and sure enough, the pitcher is there, next to a plate that holds
a long-ago decayed breakfast pastry. There is a sketch of me, no more than eight or nine, on the
chest of drawers, another of my aunt and Bohdi next to it. His son. His sister. His nephew. The
three most important people in his life.

I force myself to move. I go to the trunk at the end of his bed and pry it open. Several moths fly out
and all I find are the remnants of blankets and linens eaten by insects. I move on, open the
nightstand that doesn’t hold his book and water glass, the one that was meant for someone else, but
he never found another, not after my mom. It’s entirely empty. I move to the other one, open it,
find a pair of reading glasses and a notebook. I flip it open with a shaking hand, find it’s no more
than a few stray thoughts, reminders of things to do. Most of it is blank. I remember him carrying
around these notebooks, filling them with whatever came to mind. This one must have been
relatively new.

My hand reaches for his book, but I just – can’t. I can see a bookmark poking out, a reminder that
he intended to come back to those pages once he caught a break in war. It’s too vivid of a reminder
that his life was snuffed out.

I go to the armoire, force it open. I have to close it almost as fast. The sight of his clothes hanging
there, limp from age and the elements, is enough to make me lightheaded. Grief is relentless, no
matter how long it's been.

His desk is why I’m here. He did most of his work in his office, but there were things he kept in
here, private documents, family records. If I know my dad as well as I think I do, I will find what
I’m looking for in this desk. I hesitate, but I manage to pull open the top drawer. It’s stuffed full of
correspondence. I flip through it, see names I recognize here and there. I should probably read
these. There could be something useful. But that’s not what I’m searching for right now.
The next drawer contains neatly filed family and property records. It occurs to me that I should
probably update all of this to reflect his death, my role as head of the Riorson line. That, too, is a
later problem, and not one I can take care of as supposedly dead person anyway.

The bottom drawer has – weapons. That makes me chuckle. I pluck out a dagger, note that it’s just
a dagger, not one meant for ending a venin. It is still tyrrish craftsmanship, however. He had a
preference for our wares. I do, too. I don’t think too much about what I’m doing as I set it aside to
take with me. It needs to be cleaned and sharpened. I’ll do that tonight. I take a knife, too, then
grab a second one.

Finally, I focus on the single long drawer. I pull it open like I’m expecting something to jump out
at me and, in a way, it does. Another one of his notebooks is here, along with his last will and
testament. I know what that will says. He made me sit down and go over with him a few days
before he left to declare the secession. I hated every moment of it. I still hate every moment of it.
It’s the notebook I know in my gut I’m here to find. I pick it up, open the cover.

It rocks me.

Line by line, page by page, I’m confronted with the knowledge that despite how honest my dad
was with me, there were still things he kept from me.

I read it twice before it finally sinks in. My instinct is to shut down, isolate. I have put in too much
work to do that though. So I sit on the trunk at the end of his bed, head spinning, notebook in
hand.

Violet.

Xaden. Everything okay?

One corner of my lips turns up. One word, even over our mental bond, and she knows something is
amiss.

Will you come to me?

Of course.

No hesitation, no question. Just a ‘yes.’

I’m at the library. I’ll be there soon.

She doesn’t ask where I am. She knows how to find me.

I browse the notebook again during the twenty minutes it takes her to get from the library to me. I
feel her before I hear her in the hallway and a moment later, she’s standing in the open doorway
wearing a look of compassion. I didn’t tell her I planned to come here, that I had a gut instinct I
would find something. I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to push open the door, let alone walk in.
Now that I have, I need her.

“He kept tabs on her.” I hold up the notebook. “From the day he kicked her out until a couple of
weeks before he died. He knew roughly where she was at all times.”

Violet crosses the room to me. She accepts the notebook I offer and opens it, flips through the
pages, sees the record of my mother’s movements through first Aretia, then Poromiel and, finally,
the Barrens. The initial recordings of sightings of her or contact made with her are more frequent
early on, become further and fewer between as the years go. I expect the gasp of horror that
escapes her.

“He thought she might have become venin.”

“No other reason for one to be in The Barrens, is there?” I ask. “Besides, I imagine you have to be
either soulless or blinded by the hunger for power to want to become a venin, and anyone who can
stash her kid away without a care is surely soulless.”

My tone is flat, dejected. I’m reeling from what I’ve learned and trying my damndest not to.

“It’s okay if this upsets you,” Violet tells me, able to read me better than anyone else.

“I was a kid,” I try, giving into my instinct to push away hard things. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter,” she counters, direct and patient, but holding me accountable to being honest, to
letting her in. “A mother is supposed to love and protect, nurture and care. She didn’t do those
things for you.” She sits next to me, and I put a hand on her thigh, always braver, always more
grounded, when I’m touching Violet. “My mom won’t win any awards as mother of the year, but at
least for a time, she did those things for us. Your dad did his best to be everything for you, but he
still wasn’t a mother.”

“He hid this from me,” I say, tapping the notebook. “I had no idea he kept tabs on her.”

“I’d bet he did that to make sure she couldn’t hurt you again,” Violet says. “It’s what I would do.
It’s certainly what you would do.”

“I wouldn’t have to,” I shake my head, not thinking about the words coming out of my mouth.
“You wouldn’t treat our kids like that.”

Well fuck.

Things I didn’t mean to put out there yet, not when our reunion is so new, our relationship itself
only just becoming an honest to gods thing. I look at her with trepidation, expecting horror or fear
or a reprimand, something, but instead, I see a shy smile.

“You think about that stuff?” she asks. “Kids?”

“I do,” I admit. “I shocked the hell out of myself the first time it came to mind, that first night we
spent together, when you asked me to stay. I dismissed it, determined we wouldn’t go past that
night, but as time has gone by…” I shake my head and just say it. “I want that life with you, Violet.
I want to win this war, I want to marry you, and I want to have a family with you. If that’s not what
you want, that’s fine, too, as long as I get to be with you.”

She kisses me.

A full force, no holding back, all she has to give kind of kiss. It knocks the wind out of me and
ignites a fire insid of me.

“I take it I didn’t freak you out with that declaration?” I ask when she pulls away and we’re both a
little breathless.

“Not at all,” she shakes her head. She worries her lip. “That’s perhaps the one thing from the life I
thought I was going to lead that I still want – a family. Obviously no time soon, not when there is a
war and we’re so young, but someday? Yeah, I’d like that.”
“Then it’s yours,” I promise. “When this war is over and we’re ready, we will build that life
together.” I’m already vulnerable as hell, so I may as well come out with the rest of it. “I think I’d
like being a dad.”

She fucking swoons.

Who knew talking to Violet about babies would get this reaction out of her?

Anyone who saw her with Rhiannon’s nephew, Tairn supplies, unhelpful as ever.

“I think you’ll be a good one,” she says. Her fingers are playing with the hair at the nape of my
neck. “You had a great dad. He taught you how to be one.”

I wrap an arm around her, hug her to me. She knows exactly what I need to hear, what is going to
give me confidence, lift me out of my murky thoughts.

“I love you,” I say.

“I love you too,” she says. She kisses my forehead and fuck, maybe I swoon this time. She pulls
back, searches my eyes, sees whatever she’s looking for. “It’s been a hard few months for you.
Being back here, leading this rebellion.”

“Leading the rebellion has been the easy part,” I admit. “I can do that part. I can lead an army.
Strategizing, fighting, that makes sense to me. I’m comfortable there.” My hand slides into hers.
“Being back here fulltime has forced me to face a lot of my past. There are memories of my dad
everywhere, all kinds of complex feelings about his death, his legacy, never mind the memories of
the others we lost. Then layer in navigating falling in love with you and how that has forced me to
open up in ways that I never have before, face truths about myself I tried to keep buried… Yeah,
it’s been hard.”

She stands and I go to stop her, not sure why she’s walking away, except she’s sliding into my lap.
Fuck, I love it when she sits in my lap. Sure, it’s sexy as hell, but it is also so trusting, so intimate.
She puts a hand on my check, brushes her fingertips along my cheekbone.

“I’m proud of you,” she tells me and my stomach clutches. My dad told me he was proud of me in
this very room, just a few days before he left Aretia for the final time. It wasn’t the last time,
though. The last time he told me he was proud of me was during those precious ten minutes I got
with him before he was taken from me. “I know it hasn’t been easy to be vulnerable, but I’m proud
of you for trying. I’m proud of you for all of this – for being our leader, for the way you lead.” She
cups my check. “For the way you love me.”

She overwhelms me in the best way. I lean in and kiss her the way I always do when I don’t have
words.

“Thank you for loving me,” I tell her once she’s kissed breathless. “I’m a better man because of
you.”

“You’re the best man,” she corrects me. “I’ll throw a dagger at anyone who disputes me.” I
chuckle despite myself. She reaches for the notebook again, contemplates it before lifting her eyes
to mine. “I think we need to try to find your mother, Xaden.”

“I do, too,” I admit. “It feels important.” I pause. “I’ll probably have to kill her.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” she decides. “I know we will have to make a similar
decision about my mother.”
We sit together in the heavy silence as we face the prospect of having to end the lives of the
women who birthed us. Violet is right. That is a decision for when the time comes, not right now.

“This room is huge,” she notes, breaking the heavy as only she can.

“It’s got a great view of the ocean, too,” I say. “We’d have to pry open the shutters to see it, but it’s
there.” I consider her, make a decision. “Maybe, once this war is won, we can clean this room up,
upgrade a few things, make it our room?”

It’s the largest bed chamber in the place, in what is supposed to be the family quarters, but hasn’t
had a family in it in years. I moved into my current room when I was a fourteen-year-old-boy more
interested in running wild with Bohdi and Garrick. Dad put our rooms together, told my aunt who
protested Bohdi and I moving out of the family quarters that it was just “fucking easier” to
sequester us off together than to keep having to first hunt down and then drag Bohdi and I back
every night because we were too busy getting into mischief.

I wonder if my tendency to use the word “fuck” is genetic.

I can also see myself here now, with Violet, in the future she and I will build together.

“You’d be okay with that?” she counters.

“I think it’s time,” I nod. “I don’t think my dad would like it if he knew I was holding on to this
room like a still life of his memory.”

“Then we’ll make it ours,” Violet decides.

“You’d live here?” I ask. “In Aretia? With me?”

“Of course.” She’s looking at me like I sprouted two heads. “I’ll live wherever you are.”

“I thought you might want to live somewhere else,” I say since we’re apparently having a
conversation about the future right now. “Maybe somewhere you lived as a kid, or even
somewhere around Basgiath.”

“Home is with you, Xaden.” There is no room for discussion in her tone. “Aretia feels like home.”

“I feel the same way. You’re home for me.” I smile at her. “You’re it for me.”

We share another kiss and it’s like I forgot all about the fact that my dad had been tracking my
mom, that she’s likely venin, that I’m almost certainly going to kill her. Violet is here and she
loves me and she’s choosing me, this place, a life together. She is all I need.

She points to the sketches on my dad’s chest of drawers when we pull apart.

“Definitely keeping that in here. You were a cute kid.”

“And it’s time to go do literally anything else,” I decide, making her laugh. “Spar with me before
dinner?”

“I would quite like to kick your ass today,” she determines, and I laugh again. I take the weapons
and notebook with us when we leave. We spar, eat dinner. She goes back to the library and leaves
me with the impression that she has some sort of idea she’s humming over that she wants to
research as much as she can with what resources we have. I’m bent over a map and debating the
pros and cons of moving a riot a little further north, towards Basgaith, when Sgaeyl interrupts my
thoughts.

Two venin have been spotted near the Cliffs of Dralor.

I’m already on my feet.

How far out are you?

Ten minutes.

I hurry down the hall, bound for the armory.

Xaden! Violet now. Venin…

I know. Sgaeyl is ten minutes out.

Tairn, too. I’m on my way.

I don’t bother to tell her to stay back. She won’t and honestly, I don’t want her to. She and I
together are far better than we are apart.

What weapons do you have on you?

Six daggers, two of which will take out the venin, and two throwing knives.

I’m going to the armory. I’ll get you a few more.

I duck into the training office and find Brennan and Garrick.

“Venin at the cliffs. Two of them. Let’s go.”

“Fucking finally,” Brennan says as he hurries to his feet.

“Finally?” Garrick questions.

“Been dying to see action. It’s been six fucking years.” He’s like a kid at solstice.

“Careful what you wish for you fucking idiot,” Garrick tells him as they head out to no doubt arm
up as well. I see Bohdi and a few others in the training ring.

“Bohdi!” I call out. “Let’s go!” I catalog who is with him and make a split-second decision.
“Rhiannon! You too! Imogen, you’re acting command until we’re back.”

“The fuck…” Imogen starts.

“That was an order,” I tell her. She simmers and I don’t care. I need someone in charge here and
she’s damn good at telling people what to do. A little hotheaded in her decision making, but here’s
to hoping no major decisions need to be made in the next couple of hours. Bohdi has reached me,
Rhiannon hot on his heels. “Two venin have been spotted near the Cliffs of Dralor. Call your
dragons and arm yourselves.”

“We’re going to fight venin?” Rhiannon asks as we march through the halls. There is a note of fear
in her tone. She’ll have to get over that.

“You can’t stay behind these walls forever,” I tell her. “Remember, the only known ways to kill
them are hand-to-hand combat with fortified weaponry and by Violet’s lightning.”
“Any wyvern?” Bohdi asks.

“Unclear.”

I fucking hope not.

We enter the armory and I start reaching for weapons. I pass Rhiannon a dagger and a sword that
will end the venin. She’s Violet’s best friend and I’m taking a chance by bringing her on this
impromptu mission, but she’s a strong rider and great at hand-to-hand. She needs combat
experience, and this might be the safest and possibly only opportunity – six on two, assuming no
more venin show up – she gets for it before the real thing.

We’re in the rotunda watching the dragons’ descent when Violet sprints in. She’s winded from the
race from the library, but I see that fierce look in her eyes and know she’s ready.

“Catch your breath,” I direct as I start sheathing weapons in the few remaining spots sh has. Now is
not the time to think about how hot it is that I’m arming my already lethal girlfriend to the teeth,
but here we are. “Two more reinforced daggers, two more standard daggers.”

“Thank you,” she breathes. She observes the group gathered at the first of the dragons land.
“Rhiannon?”

“She needs experience.” Violet nods in agreement. I can see Sgaeyl and Tairn bringing up the rear
as Rhiannon and Brennan take flight and Garrick and Bohdi’s dragons land. I loop an arm around
Violet’s waist and pull her into my side.

Once we’re home and everyone is safe tonight, I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t remember
your name.

The weapons doing it for you, Commandant? she asks with a little smirk sent my way.

Every fucking time, I confirm. I press a kiss to her temple as Bohdi and Garrick take flight and
Tairn and Sgaeyl land. Andarna, I note, is circling above. She’s another thing we will have to work
out as it comes. A second signet is bound to manifest for Violet at some point, and there is the
matter of which dragon Violet will use when, the fact that neither of her dragons will sit idly by
while the other one takes Violet off somewhere.

“I love you,” I tell Violet as we separate to mount our dragons. Fuck, it feels good to say those
words to her before going into battle. It had eaten away at me that I hadn’t told her how I felt
before we faced the venin at Resson, that she nearly died without knowing how I feel about her. I
can say how I feel freely now. “Don’t die.”

“I love you, too.” She pauses just long enough to brush a kiss across my cheek. “Don’t die.”

We take to the sky and my thoughts narrow to right now. Two venin, too close to Aretia, too close
to that damn box that we can’t open. I wonder if they can. I wonder if the venin have whatever
power is needed to open the damn thing. I wonder why they want it so damn bad.

I don’t intend to find out, at least not today.

I shut down the worry about the people around me. This is what could be the first of many battles.
I can’t be the man who loves the woman flying confidently at my side. I can’t be the cousin who
wants to throw himself in front of his little cousin, the friend who wants to stop his best friends
from facing a threat. I have to be the commanding general. I have to make choices for the greater
good, not for myself.
It fucking sucks.

You warded the box, right? Violet asks.

Of course. There is a fucking arsenal of wards around that thing, and around the boarders of the
cliffs themselves.

So either they will be outside the wards still, the wards will have fallen, or worse-case scenario,
they will have found a way to work within the wards.

If it’s that last option, we’re fucking screwed, I reply.

If there continues to be just two, you and I will be enough to end them.

She says it as an absolute. And she’s right. Together, Violet and I can drop two venin without
much effort at all. It’s the chance that there are more that has me bringing backup.

I feel them before I see them. Violet and I’s bond is so open, so strong, that I know she does, too.
There is a palpable shift in the energy around us and Sgaeyl confirms she, too, feels it.

The cliffs come into view. It’s a stunning day, crystal clear, chilly. That’s another thing we need to
account for – the impending cold. Dragons don’t like to fly in the cold, and it’s next to impossible
for riders to safely fly when the temperature drops to a certain point without getting frostbit or
worse. We will either have to stay holed up in Aretia or figure out how to fight largely from the
ground if this thing breaks open during the coldest months.

You anticipate a lengthy war.

Why would I expect anything less? I counter Sgaeyl. Dad spent years just cultivating resources,
then the rebellion itself…

You have what your father didn’t.

I frown, even as I search the skies around us for signs of the venin. What’s that supposed to mean?

Dense humans, she grumbles.

Fucking vague dragons, I fire back. This speaking in riddles shit you and Tairn are doing is getting
old.

So is how dense you and the girl are.

I’m about to inform her Violet is the least dense one of all of us, human and dragon alike, but
before I can, Tairn interrupts us.

Venin ahead.

I glance at Violet and know by the way her posture shifts that she’s ready.

We’re going outside the wards, Sgaeyl says.

I feel the shift when we push through them and then I see the venin. There are just the two – so far
– and they sit astride a wyvern apiece.

Have the others surround them, I direct Sgaeyl to relay that info to their dragons. Up, down, all
sides. They don’t escape. Violet, you and I handle the venin.
Relaying the message, Sgaeyl confirms.

What’s the plan? Violet asks.

I’ll surround them, you electrocute them.

Quickly, she determines. Because they have spotted us.

The venin are headed right for us. More specifically, I realize, right for Violet. They fly towards
her with frightening speed. I pull on my shadows just as the wyvern blast two fierce streams of blue
fire towards Tairn and Violet. Tairn dives to avoid it, but it doesn’t matter. The venin use their
hands to shift the fire to follow them. I send my shadows, thick and fast and manage to deflect the
flames.

Fuck, Violet breathes. That’s a new trick.

A fucking lethal one, I echo as Sgael banks to double back. They try their trick again, but this time,
a blast of fire comes my way. I split my shadows and deflect once more. Brennan, ever the
strategist, sees what we’re up against. His dragon comes in from above breathing a white-hot line
of fire at one of the wyvern. He manages a direct hit. It roars and falls several feet before steadying
itself.

We have to divide them, Violet determines. You take one, I take one.

Be careful, Violence.

Right back at you, Xaden, she counters. You promised I’ll be forgetting my own name when we get
back. I intend for you to keep it.

As soon as possible, I agree.

I detach then, make myself trust that Violet can take care of herself.

Get me closer, I direct Sgaeyl.

I’m not willing to get much closer.

Close enough, then.

Bohdi soars past me, providing a distraction. The venin takes chase. I can see Bohdi actually grin
as he reaches behind him for his crossbow. It’s almost instantaneously that an arrow designed to
kill venin flies through the sky. It sticks into the wyvern, causing it to let out an ear-splitting shriek,
slowing it down, but not killing it since it’s rider is still astride.

It’s the perfect opportunity for me.

I spring to my feet, as at home standing on Sgaeyl’s back as I am riding her, and leap into
nothingness. My shadows form a lasso and I use it to fling myself onto the wyvern’s back. The
venin is ready for me. It takes a swing with a dagger. I duck and we engage in hand-to-hand as we
ride the flailing wyvern plummeting towards the ocean below.

The venin – a large male – is skilled. It lands a blow to my ribs that damn near sends me tumbling.
I save my footing and sweep my leg under it as I reach for my dagger. The wyvern is losing
altitude at a dangerous tilt that has me scrambling for my balance which causes me to lose the
dagger. I reach for another one as the venin lands another hit with a dagger of is own. This one
catches my hip, just above the protective plate of my flight gear. It shreds through the fabric,
through skin and then muscle. It burns like hell, but I don’t let it stop me.

It’s a brilliant crack of lightning from above us that gives me the opening I need. The venin looks
up for a fraction of a moment. I’m aware of the venin and wyvern plummeting to the ground from
above us courtesy of Violet, aware of the other dragons flying around us, but my sole focus is on
ending this venin’s neck. My vision is blurry, the pain intense. I have to do this, though, a fucking
cut be damned. We dagger feels twice as heavy as it should as I lift it, but I bring it down, plunging
it into the venin’s neck with purpose. I pull, cut deep to ensure the thing dies as I pull it out again.
The venin roars and the wyveryn falls faster.

The world fucking spins.

Xaden! comes Violet’s voice. You have to jump!

Jump. Right.

My hip hurts though. My jump is half ass at best, and my thoughts are slow. So slow. I manage to
summon my shadows, but the lasso misses Sgaeyl.

Xaden!

Violet’s panicked cry has me try again as I drop through the sky. It’s weaker this time, and the
ocean is growing ever closer. I’m snatched up from my free fall by a set of claws.

We have you, Commandant, comes Sgaeyl’s voice and then I’m being dropped though the air again
and fuck, why I can’t I focus?

I hit Sgaeyl’s back hard enough to knock the wind out of me, but I’m able to get my grip enough to
find some semblance of balance.

Xaden!

Violet.

I’m fine. I grunt out. I don’t want her to worry.

Liar. We’re going to ground. You need to be looked at.

We should…

Don’t bother to argue, Sgaeyl pipes up.

I don’t. Two women against one injured man. I know the outcome here.

We fly to the nearby cliff where the box is hidden. Sgaeyl lands as gently as she is capable of and
my dismount will go down as my least graceful to date. I hiss in pain and have to use Sgaeyl for
support. I can’t put weight on my left leg.

Violet is there.

“Xaden!” She grabs my face between her hands. “What is it? Where are you hurt?”

“It’s just… A scratch…” I can barely get the words out and she’s not listening anyway. She’s
surveying me, top to bottom, searching. She gasps when she finds the gash at my hip. I look down.
It’s deep and gnarly and okay, maybe a little more than a scratch. I sway as a sudden roll of
dizziness overtakes me and Violet steadies me. Even Sgaeyl shifts her weight so her leg is
supporting more of me.

“Brennan!” Violet cries out. He’s already heading our way. She starts undoing my leathers. I want
to make a quip about her undressing me in front of an audience, but the pain is too damn much.
“You’re going to be okay,” she says as she pushes down the left side for a better look. “You’ll be
fine. Brennan!”

“Right here.”

“It’s a deep cut,” she tells him. “Black, has to be poison.”

“Let’s get him on the ground,” he says. “I need a better look.”

I’m now too dazed to let them do anything other than guide me down to the ground. Violet comes
with me, supporting my upper body, muttering words of comfort. Fuck it burns. It hurts and it
burns. At the same time.

Stay with us, Commandant, Sgaeyl says. You will be fine, but the next little while won’t be
pleasant.

“Violet,” I manage through a gasp of pain. I need to make sure she’s okay.

“I’m right here,” she says. A hand goes through my hair. “I’m okay. Don’t worry about me. You’re
going to be fine.”

“Lay him all the way down,” Brennan directs. I hiss as he prods at my hip. “It’s down to the bone,
looks to be the same poison you were stabbed with. I know what I’m facing this time and I’m able
to treat him almost immediately. The poison won’t have time to spread like it did with you. He’ll
be fine.”

“Fuck!” I bellow when Brennan’s prodding hits an especially painful spot.

“You’re going to be okay,” Violet soothes. My head is in her lap and my gods, the pain. My breaths
start to come fast and short. I don’t know what the fuck Brennan is doing to me, but I haven’t felt
physical pain like this – ever. “Water? Does anyone have…”

“Right here.” I hear Bohdi. “Lift him a little?”

I’m no more than a fucking ragdoll as Violet elevates my upper body a few inches and Bohdi holds
a skein to my lips.

“Drink, Xaden,” Bohdi directs as he tips water into my mouth. I’m thirsty, I realize. Parched, even.
I try to reach for the skein to tip up for more, but Violet catches my hand and guides it back to my
side.

“Small sips,” she directs. She presses a kiss to my temple. I can feel how scared she is, but I can’t
do much to comfort her. I can barely fucking swallow this water I want so damn bad. Brennan does
something that makes me cry out in pain again. I have broken into a sweat and I’m not above
begging for someone to give me something to knock me out while he mends me.

A feeling of calm washes over me.

Bohdi.
The pain is still there, but I can tolerate it better. He stays at my side, offering me water, sending
waves of calm over me. Violet continues to comfort me, whispering reassuring words, working her
hands through my hair. Brennan works steadily and slowly, I start to feel stronger. I try to sit up
some however many minutes later, but Violet’s gentle hands on my shoulders keep me horizontal,
Brennan keeps working, and I’m still too weak to fight either of them despite my attempt at
bravado.

“That should do it,” Brennan announces a half hour or an hour later, I don’t know. “How do you
feel, Xaden?”

“Doesn’t hurt as much,” I say. Which is true. It still aches like hell, but the searing pain is gone. I
push myself upright mainly under my own power. I take a moment, decide I feel strong enough to
attempt to stand. Bohdi helps on one side, Violet on the other. The world swims.

“Easy,” Violet says as she slides an arm around me. “Maybe you should sit back down…”

“I’m fine,” I try.

“Liar,” Garrick calls me out.

“You’re going to be a little woozy for the next day or so,” Brennan says. “We’ll rest a little while
longer, then you should be strong enough to fly back to Aretia.”

I’ll ensure your safe transport, Sgaeyl says. Then you will rest. The girl will make sure of it.

I almost miss the days when Sgaeyl was apathetic to Violet at most. Now they’re siding together
against me, and I don’t stand a chance. I also can’t stand up as long as I’d like. Violet helps me to a
nearby rock and I settle. The rest of them congregate around me. I don’t like being seen as weak,
but at least these are the people closest to me, the ones I can let see me below full strength – to a
point at least.

“Tell me how you took care of your venin?” I ask Violet.

I listen as she recounts the story of how Garrick, Brennan, and Rhiannon attacked the wyvern and
helped defend against the venin’s attacks while she gathered her lightning and then struck a single
fatal blow that sent it and its wyvern crashing dead into the ocean. I gain more of my strength back
as I recount my own battle and note that Violet looks a little pale.

You okay, Violence?

I’m not the one that was stabbed, she counters. For a change.

Violet…

You scared the hell out of me, Xaden.

For a change, I retort. She rolls her eyes, but there’s a slight smile on her lips. I put a hand on her
knee and squeeze. She covers my hand and returns the squeeze. I don’t like that she got a taste of
how I’ve felt when it’s been her being healed or mended, but I can’t refute the fact that I like that
she has some empathy for it now. Maybe she’ll be a little smarter about putting herself in danger.

Keep telling yourself she’ll listen to either one of us, Tairn says. I enjoy your delusion.

Delusion is you thinking Sgaeyl isn’t running the show, I retort.

My threat to torch you the first chance I get still stands.

Threats are empty, I say. I operate in promises I can keep.

Tairn growls at me and I think I actually won a round in our ongoing pissing contest.

“Since we’re here, should we check on the box?” Garrick proposes. “Suffices to say that’s likely
what drew the venin here.”

“We can’t leave it here,” I decide. “I don’t want to take it back to Aretia, but I don’t think we have
much of a choice right now. We do know our wards held. They didn’t get through them. We’ll
double down on warding against the venin around Aretia and try, again, to figure out what the hell
is in that box until we figure out another place to stash it.”

I go to stand but Violet stops me.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she asks.

“To get the box…”

“You’re not going in there,” she shakes her head.

“Violet…”

You’re not going in there. She switches to our mental bond. You’re injured, for one, and I won’t
have you navigating a small space when you don’t have to. You have done enough today.

She holds my eyes and I gaze right back.

“Are they… having a silent conversation?” I hear Rhiannon ask.

I’ll be fine…

No, Xaden.

Her words are final.

Rest, Commandant. Sgaeyl, taking her side again. I only take her side when she’s right. Which,
lately, has been more often than naught.

I know Violet heard that by the way she’s trying not to grin.

“It’s ten minutes in, ten minutes out,” I tell her, speaking so the rest of them can hear us. “I’ll allow
five minutes to undo the wards around the box. If you’re not back out here in twenty-five minutes,
I’m coming in.”

“I’ll go with her,” Garrick volunteers.

“Me, too,” Brennan states. “We helped hide and ward it. We’ll be able to help unweave.”

“We’ll be right back.” She leans down and gives me a quick peck on the lips. Tell Rhiannon about
our mental bond while I’m gone. She leaves me with Bohdi and Rhiannon. “Bohdi, you’re in
charge of him.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” I call after her. She ignores me and keeps walking. Fine then. “So,” I
drawl to Rhiannon, “first venin. How was it?”
 We talk about the venin, then I tell her about Violet and I’s connection while we wait. She gawks,
recalls approximately a hundred times she can remember in which Violet and I must have been
conversing in our heads with stunning clarity. Bohdi grins the whole time because he knows how
much I hate making small talk which is what we’re doing right now. I keep a close watch on the
time and twenty-three minutes later, Violet, Garrick, and Brennan emerge. Violet is carrying the
box.

“All of that for this little box?” Rhiannon asks. I get it. It’s a nondescript thing, all things
considered. It’s a simple box carved with intricate ruins.

“Whatever it holds, the venin want it,” Brennan tells her. “We can’t open it. We have tried
everything.”

Violet gives it a little shake,

“It sounds like there is something loose in it.” She shakes it again. “Several somethings, maybe.”
She turns it in her hands. “Did anyone try to translate the ruins?”

“No, we just looked at them, thought they were pretty,” Brennan comments. She sends him a
withering look.

“We tried everything we could think of,” Garrick says. “Perhaps Mira can do something with it
when she’s back in Aretia. Her or we find someone who can unweave wards as their signet.”

They’re off, throwing out ideas, debating on what could be in the box. Violet remains quiet,
however. I watch as she turns the box over in her hands, studying it in a thoughtful manner. If
anyone can figure out what’s in that box, if anyone can translate those ruins, it’s her. I watch as she
turns it so the latch which is essentially welded shut faces her.

I watch as Violet opens the fucking box.

Chapter End Notes

Looks like Fen had a few secrets of his own... Big fan of Xaden in this chapter. Lots of
chances to let Violet help him, but mostly the whole "we're better together" mood
going into battle. He knows what's up.

And now Violet has opened the box...

Thank you so much for reading! This story has been so great for me to write,
especially in the middle of the Iron Flame release. If you want to talk Iron Flame...
DM me on social? Because I have THOUGHTS.

Thank you, one more time.

Seriously.

Love you, mean it.

 Oh, and next update? We get a whole new POV...

End Notes

I should have mentioned - I really like angst and I really like complicated characters. Xaden
in particular is a dream to write for someone like me. They'll be physically apart for a bit,
but will the be apart? Stay tuned.

I also may take some liberties/guesses with theories moving forward, such as the whole
"one dies the other dies" thing. It's all just guessing and fan fics to fill the time until Iron
Flame, right?

Let me know your thoughts! I aim to update on Mondays and Fridays!

Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!