#before athebyne

[loath3d]

xaden licks his lower lip once before taking it between his teeth, the gesture all he can manage in order to keep himself quiet tonight. he's just entered the gym where cadets are sparring on various mats, violet and rhiannon on one of them. he looks at violet for only a few seconds, though, before forcing himself to look away. it had only been three nights ago that they'd shared that kiss in the courtyard while sgaeyl and tairn had been... busy. it's a kiss he'd told her had been a bad idea, and yet... it had been a lie. bodhi and garrick flank him as they walk further into the space, the three of them stopping along the edge to watch the others fight.

as subtly as he can, which is rather impressive at this point given all the time he's had to master his own power, he'll allow his shadows to approach and caress violet, letting her know he's entered the room. whether she already knows it or not, he won't intrude on her thoughts — he hasn't even let her know they can communicate in this way, yet. ❝ sorrengail... you call that a punch? ❞ to tease her like this is the only way he'll allow himself to interact with her, at least for now; it's safer this way. arms are crossed over his chest, his stance rather stiff as he watches the woman despite how hard he tries to come off as disinterested.

starter for / @ac1nums

[angstywaifu]

Options - Bodhi Durran x Reader

Prompt - They're looking. Kiss me. Now!

Warning: Spoilers for end of Fourth Wing.

Masterlist

Graduation Day. A celebration for all. For those graduating the college and accepting their postings. And for those of us moving up to the next year. It was an exciting time. And I was glad for the distraction after Athebyne. Athebyne where it had nearly all ended. Nearly gone wrong. Something Colonel Aetos had hoped for. Had almost bet on in fact. All day I had caught people staring at those of us who we’re meant to be dead. Wondering and whispering about what had happened.

Movement in front of me catches my eyes as two cadets from another wing sit in front of me. I vaguely knew them. They we’re in my year but that was about it. Due to me being one of the marked ones they usually kept their distance from me. Something about the way they looked at me had me on edge. One of them had a second drink in their hand they pushed towards me.

”Can I help you?” I ask them sarcastically. Hoping they get the hint I didn’t want to talk to them.

”Just thought you could use some company. Sitting here all by yourself. No one wants that on graduation night.” The one on the left says.

”Maybe some of us do want to be alone.” I snap back as they push the drink towards me again despite me already holding on in my hands.

”Graduation Day is a time to celebrate, let loose. Something we can help with.” The one on the right adds.

The way they both smile at me sends a chill up my mind. I had now regretted my choice to sit on my own. I could have easily joined some of the others, but most of my friend group were occupied or we’re saying goodbye to those who were leaving. Which is where Imogen and Bodhi had disappeared to. Gone to say goodbye to Garrick and Xaden who I had seen before coming down here.

”Well this Graduation Day I don’t particularly feel like celebrating. So if that’s your only goal, please go elsewhere.” I say before turning my attention to elsewhere in the room, my eyes catching Bodhi, Garrick and Xaden making their way into the room.

”Most of you made it back alive. Can’t have been that bad.” One of them adds.

I see red as I turn to face them. But I couldn’t snap at them the way I wanted to. I couldn’t reveal what we had actually dealt with. Actually faced. I had to reign it in.

”Regardless I do not feel like celebrating, especially not with you two.” I emphasise the last word with as much anger as I can. Please get the hint and leave me alone.

They smirk at me. “I don’t see any other options for you. All the other marked ones seem to already have their options for tonight.”

God these two made my skin crawl. Made me want to jump over the table and teach them the lesson I know I could easily do. I’d seen them fight. They weren’t bad, but I was better. I had Xaden and Garrick to thank for that.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I have options. So if you could move along.”

A lie. A blatant lie. I had no options. No one I could escape to and try use to get these two away from me. And these two creeps knew.

”Go on then, go get one of those options and we will leave you peacefully be.” One of them challenged.

I gulp as I scan the room. Hoping for anyone. Anything. Hell I would go over to Imogen and ask her to play along. We were both straight, but we would play the part if needed for the other to help get out of a situation quite like this. I had hoped she had snuck back in with Garrick, Xaden and Bodhi but she hadn’t. Bodhi. Bodhi could help. But it was different with him. We had a friendship, that quite honestly could go that way if we wanted. Hell we toed the line a little too much. But that’s all we were. Friends. Nothing more. But he would help. And it’s not like I had to kiss him or anything. Right? All I had to do was walk up, quickly explain the situation and hope those two would find someone else to go pester. Though part of me hoped they wouldn’t. I could do this. It was easy. That’s what I tried to tell myself as I stood up and walked over to Bodhi who was leaning against the wall with Garrick. Xaden now gone. Probably saying goodbye to Violet. Bodhi looks over at me as I rush over to him and Garrick. I know he can tell something is up by the way his brow furrows.

”You ok?” He asks as I stop in front of him.

”I need your help. I need you to pretend that you’re into me.” I tell him sternly.

Garrick does his best to hide his laugh with a cough. He mutters something that sounds oddly like “that won’t be hard” as Bodhi elbows him in the side.

”T-that’s an interesting thing t-to need help with.” Bodhi stutters back.

I sigh and nod my head towards the two boys who are staring at us very intently, obviously intrigued to see who out of Bodhi and Garrick was my option. Garrick was a gamble as he was dressed to leave. But he was known to sleep around when he was so inclined. He would have been the more believable target for this. Garrick would have easily played along, but would also give me shit about it later. But I had gone to Bodhi.

”Those two are pestering me and keep pushing that I need to celebrate tonight with them. And I do not. It’s the last thing I want. But they won’t go unless I can prove to them I have another option. Which I don’t, but I need someone to at least pretend.” I blurt out as I look behind me. My blood runs cold, they’ve now stood up and are looking at Bodhi and I, and are about to walk over. Shit., I barely think before the words leave my mouth. “They’re looking. Kiss me.”

”Ah….”

”NOW!”

Bodhi just looks at me shocked. Frozen in place. Shit. I step forward and cup his face between my hands as I pull him down into a kiss. I feel Bodhi go rigged as our lips touch. As my lips meet his, its like it ignites a fire in me. A fire I had never felt before. I wrap my hands around his neck in an effort to deepen the kiss as I step closer. As I lightly trace his lip with my tongue, something in Bodhi snaps. His hands that were frozen at his side come to grip my hips and pull me flush against him. His body relaxing as he eases into the kiss. A small groan rumbling through him as our tongues meet. A cough next to us has us breaking apart to a very amused Garrick smirking at us as he motions with his head. I turn my gaze to see they’ve stormed off to another table and a group of girls from another squad. I go to step back but Bodhi’s grip on my hips tighten as he holds me against him. I look back at him to see him staring at me with an intensity I’ve never seen before.

”Have fun you two. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Garrick teases before pushing off the wall, leaving us alone as he heads outside.

Bodhi continues to stare at me, as if he’s shocked and cant believe what has just happened. As if it was a dream. A dream he had been waiting to come true. Like he had been waiting for me to toe that line just a little more. To take that first step he was too scared to. But slowly a smile breaks out over his face.

”Would you object to not pretending to celebrate with me tonight?” He finally asks, in a way that almost reminds me of the confidence that Garrick and Xaden have.

”Not at all.” I tell him before giving him a quick kiss, grabbing his hand and leading him up to the third year rooms.

[nomie-11]

Chapter 24 - The Double-Edged Dagger

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It’s nearly one o’clock in the afternoon when they approach Athebyne, stopping at the orders of the dragon, at a lake closest to the outpost so they can drink. The surface of the lake is smooth as glass, but the grass bordering the lake at the far side from where they stand is trampled, which means they’re not the first riot to rest here. 

There are a total of ten dragons in all with them, and Genevieve only recognizes a few. It’s obvious that she, Liam, and Violet are the only first years in the group though, and for that reason, they all land next to each other on the border of the lake. 

“You need to drink and probably eat something,” Genevieve sighs, stretching her arms up as she prepares to dismount. Seven straight hours in the saddle was killing her, and this time she really was fairing the worst, as Violet and Liam look nearly unaffected. Violet had the opportunity for extra hours in the saddle since the beginning of War Games, but Genevieve was ground-bound for the majority of that time. 

“And you need to sleep,” Train replies. “You’ve been up all night.” 

“This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve gone all night without sleep and certainly won't be the last.” She shrugged, her shoulder popping with an awful clicking noise. She hap-hazardly slides down his foreleg, Liam catching her midway before easing her to the ground without a word. 

“It’s strange to be beyond the wards,” Genevieve says, nodding a quick thank you at Liam before he heads over to Violet. The entire riot’s dragons are agitated, and Genevieve can feel this wrongness in the air that causes the hair to stand on the back of her neck. 

“We’re twenty minutes out from Athebyne, so hydrate! We have no idea what kind of scenario is waiting for us, so rest up.” Xaden calls out, his voice carrying over the squad as Genevieve goes to where Liam and Violet stood, his hands on her shoulders as if he was gently massaging her. 

“You doing alright?” He asks Genevieve, her own hand on her own shoulder because her shoulders hurt too, even if her boyfriend(?) needed to take care of other things. 

Genevieve just shrugs at his question, firing it back at Violet. “Are you doing alright?” 

“If I say I’m not sure, will you think less of me?” Genevieve would never think less of her for being honest with herself, especially since she was feeling exactly the same. 

“I’d think you’re being honest.” Liam replies, running a hand over her hair. 

Genevieve glances at Xaden, deep in conversation with Garrick. He looks back her way, their eyes locking for a second, and that's all it takes to remind her body that she had him naked above her a few hours ago. She takes a deep breath, masking her face with a base of professionalism. 

“Keep looking at me like that and we’ll be stopped longer than a half hour.” he warns, not even shifting his glance to her. 

“Is that a threat or a promise?” His head whips her way, and he actually gives her somewhat of a smile in a somewhat public setting, before turning back toward Garrick. 

“You doing all right with whatever is going on there?” Liam asks, startling Genevieve out of her own thoughts. 

“I think I want to be anywhere else than right here, right now.” Genevieve gives him the most truthful answer she could muster. 

“I’d think you got yourself in over your head.” The look on his face is anything but teasing. 

“For someone who said he owes Xaden everything, that’s not a glowing recommendation.” Fuck, her shoulder hurts so bad. “And I think I might already be dating him so too late, I guess.” 

“You feeling all right?” Xaden asks, and Genevieve groans. 

“My shoulder feels like it might fall off. Can people stop asking me that?” The last thing she wants is to be constantly reminded that something is wrong with her in comparison to everyone else. 

“It’s not that.” Liam grimaces. “It’s just that I know his priorities.” 

“Believe me,” Genevieve counters. “I know them too.” She hasn’t forgotten the fact that he had to ‘find out where her loyalties lie.’ 

Cue eye-roll. 

“I’m really sorry you got dragged along on my account,” Genevieve says quietly so the others won't hear, but Violet does. 

“I, for one, am very glad that you have been dragged along with Genevieve, because I’m always dragged along with Genevieve.” She says, turning around to face him. “Even if I think you should be at one of the midland posts with Dain, not being hauled past the wards. Colonel Aetos is a fair man, but I have no doubt this assignment is meant to ‘give the marked wingleader his due.’” 

“I’m really not scared, no one is hauling me, and believe it or not, Violet, sometimes my orders don’t revolve solely around Genevieve. I do have other skills, you know,” He teases with a grin, flashing a dimple as he hip checks her. 

“I never once forgot how amazing you are, Liam.” She tilts upwards, and Genevieve takes this as her cue to go. 

Genevieve stands on her own, pacing the shore of the lake as Xaden walks away from Garrick, holding out his hand as he approaches. 

Her eyebrows rise. There is no way he’s approaching her with the intention of holding her hand. 

Xadens hand hovers in the air between them, and an unreadable expression on his face. Genevieve hesitates for just a second, unsure if this is some kind of test. Her brows furrow, but she doesn’t reach out. She’s not one for public displays, especially with the entire riot watching. 

“What’s this about?” She asks him, her voice low, trying to read him. She feels the tension in her shoulders deepen. 

He gives her that half-smile again, the one that makes her stomach twist in knots. “Just trust me,” he says, his voice softer than usual, but still with that edge of command she can never ignore. 

Genevieve swallows her doubt and takes his hand. The moment their fingers touch, she feels a slight jolt of energy pass between them—whether from him or from her own nerves, she isn’t sure. He pulls her closer with a smooth, practiced motion, his other hand resting gently on her aching shoulder. 

“Relax,” Xaden says, his voice now a whisper. “I can feel your tension from a mile away.”

“Kind of hard to relax when you’re making a scene,” she mutters, eyes darting around. But, despite herself, she allows him to repeat the motions she was jealously watching Liam play out with Violet. His large hand easing her extremely sore muscles. She notices Violet’s raised eyebrow and Liam’s knowing smirk, but neither of them say a word. 

“None of them are going to say a single word about you—or us. I trust every single person here with my life,” he says, leading her toward a cluster of boulders on the far side of the lake. “Did you get enough to drink? Or eat?” 

“I brought everything I needed in my pack. You don’t have to worry about me.” 

“Worrying about you is ninety-nine percent of what I do.” he watches as the tension slowly dissipates from her shoulders, and her fists unclench. “When we make it to the outpost, I want you to rest after we get our scenario objective. Liam and Violet will stay while I take the third years out to patrol.” 

“I want to help,” She immediately protests. “You brought me because I’m the strongest. I can help.” 

“You can, after you rest up. You have to be at full strength to wield your signet, or you’ll risk burning out.” Genevieve understands what he’s leaving unsaid. She’s been on the cusp of burnout two times, which is two times too many. No way she survives a third. 

She nods, and doesn’t respond. 

“Xaden!” She hears Liam yell, and all of a sudden he spins around so quickly, he’s a blur. Shadows wrap the entire scene, thick as a thundercloud. Genevieve can’t see shit. 

Xaden just grabs her hand, and runs towards where they had heard Liam’s voice. 

“Silly to hide what’s already been seen,” the woman says, her tone curt. “And if rumors are true, there’s only one silver-haired rider in your death factory of a college, which means that’s General Sorrengail’s youngest.” 

“Fuck,” Xaden swears. Violet grips the dagger at her hip, sidestepping out from behind Liam so she can see the scene unfolding in front of her. 

A pair of gryphon riders stands in the meadow about thirty feet away, their beasts eerily silent behind them. They’re about a third of a dragon, but those beaks and claws look just as capable of shredding skin and scale just the same. 

“Tairn!” Genevieve calls out, and she knows Violet has called out for Astrape as well. 

“Coming.” 

“A fucking Sorrengail.” The woman looks only a few years older than them, but she looks like a veteran rider. She arches a dark brow, looking at Violet like she’s something that needs to be shoveled out of the horse stalls. The sound of beating wings fills the air as a handful of dragon riders barrel into the space around them. Bodhi, Imogen, and another third-year with a scarred lip Genevieve vaguely recognize. But no one is reaching for a weapon. 

Thunder crackles in the sky. 

“No!” Liam turns and hauls her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her and pinning them to her sides. 

“What are you doing?” She throws her weight against him, but Liam is too strong. 

A gust of wind hits Genevieve’s side as Tairn lands, Astrape following suit. 

“Holy shit, that one is huge,” the woman says. Around Liam’s immovable arm, Violet sees the riders retreat with quick steps, their eyes flying wide as they look up. 

“Just stay here. Stay calm.” Xaden says to Genevieve, his eyes searching hers for an answer to a question she hasn’t asked. Then he nods at Bodhi who plants his hand firmly around her wrist, keeping her in place. 

What the actual fuck is going on?

“Let. Me. Go,” Violet demands as Xaden strides toward the pair of gryphon riders, and Genevieve is in equal shock as Bodhi’s hand keeps her firmly gripped in place. 

Fear squeezes her heart like a vise that he thinks he can take on the gryphons and their riders himself. 

“I’m sorry Violet,” Liam apologizes, his voice lowering. “I really wish I could.” 

Astrape roars from Violet’s right so hard that spit flies, smacking Liam in the face and making her ears ring. Liam drops his hands and backs away, slowly putting his palms up. “Got it. Point made. No touching.” 

Free from Liam’s grip, Violet spins towards the field as Xaden reaches the riders. 

“You’re fucking early,” he says. 

Genevieve’s eyes narrow, each word from his lips hitting her like arrows. She knew he was smuggling weapons, but to gryphon riders? She’s never even seen a gryphon rider before. Dragons usually burn them to ash before a rider can get a good view. 

“What happened to meeting tomorrow? We don’t have a full shipment,” Xaden says to the gryphon rider, his voice calm and even. 

So this is why he wanted her to stay back? So he could go and do an illegal weapons deal without her knowing? She already knew he was smuggling weapons. She already knew. And yet he still needed to hide this? 

“The shipment isn’t the issue,” the woman says, shaking her head. 

Genevieve can practically see the gears in Violet’s head turning, piecing together the fact that these people she had been brought up to believe were traitors were actually a self-fulfilling prophecy of their heritage, a repeating cycle of betrayal. 

“So you were waiting nearby to chat on the off chance that we’d fly by a full day early?” Xaden asks. 

“We were patrolling from Draithus yesterday—it’s about an hour southeast from here—”

“I know where Draithus is,” Xaden retorts. 

“Never know, you Navarrians act like nothing exists beyond your borders,” the male gryphon rider snarks. “I don’t know why we’re bothering to warn them.” 

“Warn us?” Xaden cocks his head to the side. 

“We lost a village in the vicinity to a horde of venin two days ago. They decimated everything.” 

Genevieve’s eyes fly wide open. She just said what?

Violet and her share a glance. Venin. Holy shit.

That wasn’t a figment of her imagination, right? 

“Venin never come this far west,” Imogen says from her left. 

Venin. Oh my gods. Quinn. Oh my gods. There is not enough air in the world for Genevieve to breathe. Her chest heaves with every forceful breath. 

“Until now,” the woman replies, turning her gaze back to Xaden. “They were unmistakably venin and had one of their–”

“Don’t say anything else,” Xaden interrupts. “You know that none of us can know the details or we put everything at risk. All it takes is one of us being interrogated.” 

“Are you getting this?” Genevieve asks Tairn, glancing at Violet to see if anything else is catching the�� nonsense spewing from the woman’s mouth, but everyone else looks horrified, like they actually believe that a village was destroyed by venin. But then again, apparently Quinn died by one. 

“Unfortunately, yes.” 

“Details or not, it looks like the horde is heading north,” the male says. “Straight toward our trading post on the border across from your garrison at Athebyne. Are you armed?’ 

“We’re armed.” Xaden admits. 

“Then our job here is done. You’ve been warned,” the male says. “Now we have to go defend our people. As it is, this side trip only gives us about an hour to reach them in time.” 

Instantly, the atmosphere changes. Xaden looks over his shoulder at Violet, briefly passing over Genevieve. His face is set in grim lines. 

“General Hale’s daughter will be easy enough to convince, but if you think you’ll ever convince a Sorrengail to risk their neck for anyone outside their own borders, then you’re a fool,” the man says with a sneer in her direction. 

The man leans down slightly and looks Violet up and down in obvious judgment. “I wonder what your king would be willing to pay in order to get back the daughter of his illustrious general. I’m willing to bet your ransom would be worth enough weapons to defend all of Draithus for a decade.” 

Astrape snarls. 

“Fuck,” Bodhi mutters, his grip tightening closer on Genevieve. 

“Step away from her,” Genevieve hisses, her vines creeping up the man’s legs, thorns pricking his skin. 

Shadows race menacingly from the pine trees on the edge of the meadow as Xaden raises his hands at his sides, and both gryphon riders tense when the darkness pauses only inches from their feet. “You take a step towards either of them and you'll be dead before you can even shift your weight,” Xaden says, his voice dropping lethally. He glances at Genevieve. “The Sorrengail is not up for discussion.” 

The woman glances from the shadows to the vines, then sighs. “We’ll be there with the rest of our drift. Just signal if you can get away from the disbelievers.” she walks away, leading the man back toward their gryphons. They mount, and launch skyward. 

The entire group is silent, shifting between Genevieve and Violet. 

“Good luck, Riorson.” Imogen tucks a piece of her pink hair behind her ear as they all slowly follow Imogen back toward the lake. It’s just Liam, Violet, Xaden, Bodhi, and Genevieve left. 

“Tairn.” She keeps her breathing steady, her emotions masked. 

“Little soldier?” His giant head swivels in her direction. 

“Venin. They’re real.” She tells him. “And everyone here knew.” 

“Yes, they did.” He agrees, resignation in his tone. 

“You knew all along.”  She practically spits mentally. “You knew that Quinn died from a Venin and didn't tell me that they’re actually real? That the report I found was true?”

“I chose you for a reason.” 

Genevieve’s breath comes fast, a whirwind of fury and anguish brewing in her chest. Her gaze flickers between Xaden and Tairn, desperation mingling with disbelief. Everyone knew. Everyone except her. 

“But you knew.” Her voice breaks, trembling as she forces the word down Tairn’s pathway. Genevieve doesn’t dare meet Liam’s pitying gaze or acknowledge the unspoken apology written on his face. She doesn’t dare look at Violet, whose own betrayed face mirrors her for all different reasons. Her eyes are locked on Tairn instead, pleading for something—understanding, maybe. But the dragon’s cold, unyielding stare remains fixed straight ahead, his silent fury coiling tightly as if debating whether to incinerate Xaden on the spot. 

“Dragons are bound by bods,” Train says, his voice steady, but Genevieve hears the tension, the weariness beneath it. “There is only one other bond more sacred than that of a dragon and its rider.”

A dragon and its mate. Everyone knew but her. Her stomach churns violently. Everyone knew that venin are real, Genevieve made the stupid decision of approaching the one other person kept in the dark when everyone else knew. 

Vines explode from the earth without warning, surging towards Xaden. 

“Tell me, Riorson,” Genevieve says, her voice a poisoned whisper. Her entire body shakes, barely containing the rage that’s been building in her since the moment she realized she was the only one who didn’t know. “How did Quinn die?” 

Xaden’s eyes flicker to the vines that are now creeping toward him, but he doesn’t flinch. 

“Oh shit.” Bodhi mutters, his hands coming up to grip his neck, watching the inevitable storm unfold before them. 

“Gen, let me explain–” Xaden takes a step forward, but his movement is cut short as the vines twist up his legs, thick, black tendrils tightening around him like chains, squeezing his arms until he’s bound. 

Genevieve doesn’t blink. Her voice is sharp as a blad when she hisses, “If you take another step toward me, I swear I’ll fucking kill you.” 

“I think she means it,” Liam warns, his voice tight with tension. 

Xaden’s eyes darken, his jaw clenching, but there’s no fear in him. “I know she does.” His gaze locks with hers. “Everybody back to the shore. Now.”

He tries to move, tries to come closer, but the vines only grow tighter, feeding on the fury that’s coursing through Genevieve’s veins. 

“I know what you’re thinking—” Xaden starts, but Genevieve cuts him off. 

“No, you don’t!” Her voice cracks, a sharp edge of panic lacing through her fury. A tree behind her shatters, black flowers blooming in the wake of her raw power. “How did Quinn die, Xaden? How?! Because Violet told me venin weren’t real. Violet lied to me. Everyone lied to me.” 

“They are real,” Xaden admits softly, the weight of the truth dragging him down. 

Genevieve laughs bitterly, the sound so hollow it hurts him to hear. “Oh, great. Perfect. Then tell me, how did Quinn die? Stop dodging the question.” 

Xaden’s face hardens, shadows coiling around him like a second skin as the vines press tighter, drawing the first beads of blood from his flesh. But she doesn’t care. She’s too far gone for pity now.

“You know how Quinn died, Gen,” Xaden says, his voice a low growl. “It was during War Games my first year. It was a stupid, senseless fight, a petty—”

“Don’t give me that shit!” Genevieve snaps, her voice rising as her fury boils over. Flowers bloom underneath her feet, climbing up her as if they could protect her from the man standing across from her. “Don’t lie to me! You had her dagger, Xaden! You were there! You knew venin were real all along! You knew Quinn was killed by one, and you didn’t say anything! You let me believe—”

Her voice cracks, her pain growing too much to contain anymore. “I had to ask Violet how my own sister died, Xaden. Violet. A Sorrengail. She probably knew, too. Am I the only one who was left in the dark? Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I couldn’t tell you,” Xaden growls, the vines tightening as his muscles flex, struggling against them. “You were being interrogated by General Sorrengail every other week. You could have—”

“I didn’t tell her when I found out you were smuggling weapons out of Basgiath, did I?” She snarks, her tone venomous as she throws it back in his face. 

Violet steps forward, her expression darkening with her own fury. “Believe me, Genevieve, I didn’t know either.” She hisses, her voice low, simmering with anger of her own as thunder crashes above them. “Did you ever actually love me?” Tears brim in her eyes as she snaps at Liam. 

Genevieve’s hands shake as her power surges, the ground trembling beneath her feet. “I’m going to kill you, Xaden.” her voice is hollow now, the emotioned drained as her eyes narrow. “Tell me how Quinn died, or I swear to the gods, I’ll end this right here, right now. I have all the time in the world.” 

And as the air between them crackles with tension, Xaden watches her—this girl who just moments ago was wrapped in his arms—transformed into someone he barely recognizes, consumed by grief and rage. He knows, without a shadow of a doubt, she means every word. 

Genevieve’s entire body trembles as her back presses up against Violet, and it feels like it's them against everyone else around them. Her pulse pounds in her ears, the hurt and betrayal bubbling up into a frantic crescendo she can barely contain. The vines that snake around Xaden pulse with her fury, but she can’t find it in herself to tighten them any closer, hurting him any further. 

“But you knew,” she chokes, her voice raw, desperate. “You knew and you let me walk around in the dark, while my sister—” She stumbles, the words getting caught in her throat. “Quinn was out there fighting venin, and you—you just watched her die, didn’t you.” 

Xaden, even under the crushing weight of the vines, keeps his gaze locked on her, regret flashing in his dark eyes. But it’s not enough. It’s never enough. He tries to speak, but she cuts him off, the air crackling with her power, with her pain. 

“And don’t you dare look at me like that,” Genevieve spits, her eyes glossing over with unshed tears. “Like you’re the one hurting here! Like you’re the victim! I’m the one who lost her sister. I’m the one who was lied to!” The air around her warps with her anguish, black petals scattering into the wind as more vines shoot from the earth. “I lied for you. I protected you. I kept your secrets—” she’s at a loss for half of a breath. “I loved you, Xaden.” 

“Love!” he shouts, and Genevieve takes a step back, using her body to shield Violet from him as if his words could penetrate through her and hit someone she so desperately wanted to hide from all of this. “You love me.” 

“I should’ve known,” she whispers, her voice cold and empty, void of anything but the bitter sting of betrayal. “Once a traitor, always a traitor.” 

“Then what does that make you?” He fires back. 

“I’m a traitor to myself!” Genevieve yells, her fist clenched so tightly it draws blood. 

Liam takes a step forward, his arm outstretched as if he wants to pull Violet into a hug and whisper that everything would be all right, and that this was all a dream. 

“If you dare to even try to touch my Sorrengail, I’ll snap your head clear off your neck, Mairi.” 

Genevieve’s heart slams in her chest as her own words echo back at her. My Sorrengail. Her voice cracks under the pressure of it, and she feels a fresh wave of anger and self-loathing crash over her. When had she become so weak? When had she allowed herself to care this deeply, this stupidly, for Violet? For Xaden?

Betrayal laces every corner of her mind, but it’s not just directed at him anymore—it’s directed inward. How could I have let this happen? Her fists are bleeding and red, but no amount of pain seems to be enough to drown out the overwhelming sense of failure. She had prided herself on being strong, on keeping herself closed off, untouchable. But Xaden had slipped past her defenses. He had made her believe there was something more, something worth holding onto. And Violet had wormed her way into Genevieve’s heart so deeply, that even now, in the midst of this storm, all she wanted to do was shield her from the hurt. 

“I betrayed myself,” Genevieve’s chest tightens at her own admission, the words hanging in the air like she’s driven a knife through her own heart. The true implications of her own feelings bear down on her, crushing her spirit even as her rage surges. 

Her heart screams at her that this is wrong. That after everything, Violet should be the first person she should kick to the curb and that she should run into Xaden’s arms, and relish in the fact that her father didn’t die without cause, and the rebellion was alive. But Genevieve can’t help it. This weird, intertwining connection has grown like a vine between her and Violet, twisting itself into every part of her being until she doesn’t know where she ends and Violet begins. 

A sob catches in her throat, but she chokes it down, burying it beneath the raw fury that still burns in her veins. She focuses on Xaden, the man who had once held her heart in his hands but had crushed it instead of protected it. The man who had known all along and said nothing, who had watched her stumble blindly in the darkness left in her sister’s death. 

“I should’ve never let you in. I should’ve never let either of you in.” She repeats, her grip on Violet’s wrist ever tight, as even in repenting her sins of loving the harbinger of her pain’s daughter she can’t let her go. 

Her eyes fall back on Xaden. 

“I would’ve done anything for you had you just told me instead of lying to my face,” she murmurs, her voice barely audible as she meets his gaze. “And maybe that’s my biggest betrayal of all.” 

The vines fall back from Xaden’s body, but Genevieve’s eyes remain tense, focused.

“I’m going to ask you one last time,” Her voice is low, a soft whisper that floats in the air like the snowflakes that had once fallen between them when the only emotion she harbored towards him was lust. “Tell me how Quinn died.” 

—--------------------------------------------

When Xaden Riorson was a first year, the Wingleader of Fourth Wing was a 23 year old girl named Quinn Hale. Quinn, unlike Xaden, didn’t have a rebellion relic, but like Xaden, was the daughter of a leader of the Tyrrish Rebellion. When he first crossed the parapet, she took one look at him, and immediately took him under her wing. 

Quinn knew everything about everyone. She was a genius, and her signet, Truth-Sayer, made her a force to be reckoned with. She was practically unstoppable, and Xaden thought she was the coolest person alive. 

She had the uncanny ability to read people, picking up on their fears, desires, and motivations with unnerving precision. It was a trait that made her a fierce leader but also kept people at a cautious distance. 

To Xaden—Quinn was a mentor, but she was also a symbol of strength and survival—someone who had faced the same scars as he did but found a way to lead without being consumed by them. There were moments when he saw a flash of something else in her—sadness, perhaps even regret—but those moments were fleeting, gone as soon as they appeared. 

It wasn’t until midway through the year that Xaden learned the full extent of Quinn’s burdens. She wasn’t just the Wingleader because of her skill and power, but because she had borne the brunt of the academy’s hidden cost. Quinn Hale had crunched the numbers, done the math, and been to the border enough times to know something else was going on beyond the wards. 

Quinn Hale was the first rider cadet to know about Venin. 

But she never said a single word to anyone—except Xaden. 

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and cast long shadows across the training grounds, Xaden found himself alone with Quinn on the roof, a habit he had learned to form ever since Quinn had started to train him. The air was thick with the tensions she had, and he could sense that there was something weighing heavily on her. 

“Xaden,” she began, her voice low, almost hesitant. “You know there are things we don’t talk about here, things we pretend don’t exist.” She turned her gaze to the distant mountains, the ones in the direction of Aretia. “But I can’t pretend anymore.” 

He swallowed hard, the gravity of her words pressing down on him. 

“What do you mean?” 

Quinn hesitated, her fingers tracing the edge of her embellished dagger. “The rebellion isn’t dead,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “The rebellion isn’t dead and there are Venin on the borders.”

Xaden froze at her words, his mind racing. Venin. Venin were scary stories his father used to tell him when he wouldn’t eat his vegetables, they were myths, boogeymen meant to scare young children. He had been sheltered from the rebellion as a teenager, kept at arm's length until it had forced him to grow up too fast. But now Quinn Hale was telling him everything his father had told him was all real, and still alive. 

“You’ve seen them?” he asked, his voice tight with disbelief. 

Quinn nodded, her face set in a grim line. “I’ve seen enough. I’ve been to the border, past farther than the wards and back in Aretia. I’ve watched the way soldiers disappear, how some of them come back changed. And I’ve felt it.” she placed a hand on her chest, as if she could feel the truth of it inside her. “My signet, it doesn’t just reveal lies, Xaden. It forces people to tell the truth, it reveals everything—things people don’t even know they’re hiding from themselves. And the truth is, the rebellion never ceased. I’ve been talking with them… about you.” 

Xaden’s throat tightened. He had always seen Quinn as unshakable, invisible even. But now, looking at her, he saw the burdens. He wanted to ask why she hadn’t told anyone—why she was confiding in him now. But he already knew the answer. The academy wasn’t a place of trust. Even here, among their own, people could be watching, listening. No one was truly safe. 

“Why tell me?” he asked, his voice quieter, laced with caution he hadn’t felt before. 

Quinn met his eyes, and for a moment, the mask she wore for everyone else slipped. There was fear there—real, tangible fear. “Because I see the same fight in you that I see in myself. You’re not here just to survive, Xaden. You want more than that. You want to win.” She paused, her jaw clenching. “And because the leadership knows that I know what I know, they’re going to kill me. Someone needs to fill my footsteps and you need—”

“Don’t say that,” Xaden interrupted, his heart pounding. “Nothing’s going to happen to you.” 

But she shook her head, her expression hardening again. “You don’t know that. You can’t know that.” She turned away, looking back out at the mountain range they had once called home. “There are things in this world bigger than you and me. Bigger than all of us. And if I die, someone needs to replace me. That someone is you.” 

And Quinn was right. 

In the next few months, she narrowly dodged death in Squad Battle, challenges, and patrols time and time again. Until she could no longer run anymore. War Games had come to end her. 

Quinn Hale’s death was swift, sudden, and brutal. 

Xaden had seen the signs—the quiet glances she exchanged with her closest friends, the exhaustion that seemed to dampen her once indomitable presence, the way her voice had lost some of its earlier fire when she commanded. She was still brilliant, still a force to be reckoned with, but something inside her had shifted after that conversation on the rooftop. Quinn had made peace with her fate long before it arrived, and made due to tie up her loose ends, and that acceptance had made her reckless. 

It was the last battle of War Games when it happened. 

The sky was choked with the dust of battle, the clash of dragons echoing in the distance. Fourth Wing was locked in an intense skirmish with Third Wing on the border of the barrens when Quinn, Xaden, Garrick, and two other third years that Quinn were close with were separated from the rest of the wing. 

Everything was chaos, as it always was during War Games, but Xaden had his eyes on Quinn. He watched her, his heart pounding in his chest as her dragon soared above the battlefield, flames licking the edges of her enemy’s wings. 

And then—out of the corner of his eyes—a shadow moved. 

Venin. 

Xaden’s breath caught in his throat as the dark figure emerged from the shadows, moving with impossible speed through the battlefield. The Venin—a creature that he could have never imagined to be real not even six years ago—was real, and it was headed straight for Quinn. 

He shouted, his voice lost in the cacophony of battle, as Quinn’s dragon banked sharply, unaware of the danger that loomed beneath. In that moment, Xaden’s mind raced. He was not weak, not by any means, but he was a first year, and there’s only so much you can do with so little experience. He could barely comprehend the raw power emanating from the creature—its presence alone was suffocating, a twisted darkness that made the air feel thick and impossible to breathe. The venin’s form was monstrous, vaguely humanoid but distorted, its red eyes glowing with a sickening light. 

Quinn didn’t notice until it was too late. 

Her dragon couldn’t react fast enough. The Venin raised its hand, dark energy coiling around its fingers, and in an instant, it unleashed a devastating blast. Ilona screamed, her wings faltering as the dark magic struck her, sending her crashing into the ground. 

Quinn was thrown from her seat, her body twisting in the air as she fell to the ground with a sickening thud. Xaden’s heart dropped as he watched her struggle to stand, blood trailing from a gash on her forehead. He urged Sgaeyl to dive, to get her before the Venin could strike again, but they were too far. 

The Venin advanced on Quinn, its movements slow and deliberate, as though savoring the moment. Xaden shouted her name again, but Quinn didn’t turn. She was already pulling herself to her feet, blood dripping from a gash in her head. Even in her weakened state, she looked defiant. She raised her hand, and her dragon blew flames in a constant, focused stream. 

It erupted from the dragon like a shockwave, the fire slamming into the Venin. For a moment, it stumbled, its form flickering as the potential fragility of its existence was laid out bare. But it wasn’t enough. The venin recovered quickly as if it was never even touched, snarling as it pressed forward. The dragon fire was potent, but the flames were not enough. It couldn’t destroy the creature. 

Xaden reached for his sword, his dragon pushing harder toward the ground, but he knew—he knew they weren’t going to make it in time. 

Quinn’s eyes met his from across the battlefield, and in that split second, Xaden saw everything she’d been hiding. The fear, the regret, the knowledge that this was how it ended. She had been right all along. She had known this was coming. 

With a final cry, Quinn drew her dagger and rushed at the Venin. It was a suicide charge, and she knew it, but she didn’t hesitate. 

The Venin struck first. 

It's dark energy wrapped around her, and for the briefest moment, Quinn’s body went rigid. She gasped, her eyes wide with shock and pain as her body separated from the life of the earth, and then—just as quickly—she collapsed. The Venin withdrew its power, leaving Quinn crumpled on the ground. 

Xaden’s scream ripped through the air as Sgaeyl finally reached the ground. He leaped from her back, rushing to where Quinn lay motionless, his heart pounded in his chest, every muscle screaming for him to move faster. 

But when he reached her, he knew. 

Quinn Hale was gone. 

Xaden fell to his knees beside her, his breath ragged as he gently turned her over. Her eyes were still open, staring blankly at the sky, and her lips were parted as if she had been about to say something. His hands shook as he brushed a strand of hair from her face, his chest tight with grief and rage. 

He had lost her. The one person who looked at him like he was someone beyond Fen Riorson’s son. 

The Venin was gone, disappearing as quickly as it had arrived, leaving nothing but death in its wake. 

Quinn Hale, the unstoppable Wingleader, the genius, the one person who had understood him—who had seen something in him—was dead.

Xaden clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as the weight of it all crashed over him. His mentor, his friend, the woman who had believed in him when no one else had—she was gone. And the leadership, the ones she had warned him about, had allowed it to happen. They had known. 

The rebellion wasn’t dead. And now, neither was his resolve. 

As he stood, the battle still raging around him, Xaden’s eye caught the hilt of her dagger, half buried in the dirt. 

His fingers curled around the hilt of Quinn’s danger, red rubies and vines grounding him in the chaos. The metal was cool, dead, as if it had forgotten every moment she had fought and survived. But now, it was just a reminder of everything that had been taken from him. From them. 

The rebellion wasn’t dead. 

Her words echoed in his mind, louder now in the face of her absence, an undeniable truth that settled into his bones. He’d watched her lead, seen her fight, and witnessed her determination to carry a burden no one else understood. She had taken him under her wing because she knew—she saw—the rebellion wasn’t over. She had been preparing him to carry it forward. 

And now, it was his. 

Xaden’s heart pounded in his chest as he rose to his feet, Quinn’s dagger clenched tightly in his fist. The rebellion wasn’t just an idea, or a legacy tied to his father’s name. It was living, breathing, and it was his now. He had been standing on the sidelines, fighting to survive. But survival wasn’t enough anymore. He understood what Quinn had seen in him: the hunger, the anger, the need for justice. She had given him the tools to carry on the fight. 

The rebellion was his. 

He could feel it in the way the world shifted beneath him, in the way the air thickened with the promise of something darker and more dangerous than anyone could fathom. The leadership had known about the Venin, had known about the dangers, and sent Quinn to her death. They had let them all believe they were safe, and that the threat was gryphons, when the real threat was so much worse. 

Xaden’s grip tightened around the dagger as he turned his gaze toward the battlefield, toward the chaos Quinn had left behind. He would finish what she had started. What his father had started. Not for vengeance, but for the truth. For the rebellion. For the future that she had fought for. 

He mounted Sgaeyl, the weight of Quinn’s loss heavy on his shoulders, but the fire in his chest burned brighter than ever. 

The rebellion was his now. And he would burn the world down before he let it die again. 

---------------

Hey everyone!! Chapter 24 finally brings the real drama (genevieve 'hating' xaden because lets be for real she doesn't hate him lol)! this was a fun chapter, in my opinion at least, so I hope you all liked it.

Also, what do we think about Quinn's backstory? I would just like to point out that the only reason Genevieve and Xaden really met in the first place all the way back in like chapter 2-3 is because Xaden got into the habit of watching the sunrise on the roof from Quinn (sobbing).

i did some pretty cool things this week - last sunday I saw seventeen, and then i got accepted into a uni on monday, then did halloween on thursday and went to a wave to earth concert yesterday, so not much writing, but I will be back on my grind writing book two this week!

anyways, if you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, or kudo, and I'll see you all on wednesday!!

-------

Taglist: @awkardnerd , @hannraumari , @minjix , @glaciuswduo , @wolfbc97

[theespressooqueen]

Sorrengail, an ally

Drake’s mind was spinning as Syrena's words echoed in his ears. "I was patrolling with Mira Sorrengail the other day..." She might as well have told him the sun had disappeared from the sky. He couldn’t believe it.

"What did you just say?" His voice was low, almost a growl. It had been months since he last saw Mira, and her absence had only fueled his curiosity and obsession. The Venin attacks were growing more frequent, and the tension between their forces was palpable, but nothing mattered more to Drake at that moment than the fact that Mira was now—astonishingly—an ally.

Syrena, seeing the shift in his expression, smirked, clearly enjoying the effect her news had on him. "Some riders defected from Navarre. They’re now on our side. Mira included."

The weight of her words seemed to fall on him like a stone, but all Drake could hear was the fact that Mira, the Hero of Strythemore, was now an ally. She was close, closer than ever before, and suddenly, the need to see her again felt like an ache he couldn't ignore.

"Tell me where she is stationed," he demanded, his voice sharper than he intended, his impatience growing.

Syrena laughed at his intensity, finding amusement in his reaction. "Well, you know, she was at Uncle's house two weeks ago. She is wearing a dress while they fought a Venin."

Drake froze, unable to process what he was hearing. "What?" His heart slammed against his chest. She had been near him all this time, so close, and he hadn’t known?

"Looks like I’m right," Syrena teased, her smirk widening as she leaned forward. "She asked about you."

Drake's mind raced, his thoughts already forming wild possibilities. "What did you tell her?" he asked urgently, barely able to contain the excitement that bubbled up inside him.

Syrena gave him a mischievous grin. "I told her you like women who might actually kill you."

The words stung, but they also thrilled him in ways he didn’t expect. Mira knew of him. She had asked about him. The thought that she might have even wondered about him enough to inquire filled him with an unfamiliar sense of anticipation.

"Where is she now?" Drake’s tone shifted from curiosity to determination. There was no more waiting. He needed to see her. “Athebyne.”

[dragons-library]

Daddy Aetos is truly fucking evil.

He could’ve had them executed, he could’ve send Xaden to a mission and Kill him, he could’ve interrogated all of them and kill them in the process, he could’ve send them anywhere else to get them killed in a mission. But he chose Athebyne because that’s the place he knows Xaden has been trying to help, he puts the civilians he knows Xaden has been trying to help in the line of fire and makes them fight Venin, is all a big “fuck you, you wanna fight for them? Die for them” it’s not just him punishing Xaden and the marked ones for stealing weapons or arming the enemy, he is very very aware that it’s to save civilian lives, and purposefully using that to hurt and then kill them.

It’s not just him getting rid of the “traitors” it goes beyond just killing them, it’s very intentional, it’s psychological torture before he kills them.

[illshakeyouallnightlong-dean]

Take Me To The Sun (pt. 3)

Sorry loves it took so long for this next part. Not to be too TMI but my boyfriend lost his mother last Christmas so helping him navigate grief has been something I take seriously and therefore writing takes the back burner sometimes. But here is the new part I am currently writing part 4 as well so hopefully y'all can get that within the next day or so!

-K xoxo

Here is Part 2

Angry steps make their way towards the leaders seated at the dias. Xaden Riorson commands the very space, as if he were part of command. Violet Sorrengail makes her stand next to me, and the presence of the person on the right of me is one I can’t pay attention to - no matter how badly I want to turn and look, no matter how badly I want to cry. Colonel Aetos is furious, his red cheeks and furrowed brows do no favors as General Sorrengail questions everything that has been happening since the start of War Games. 

“I was directed to take a squad beyond the wards to Athebyne and form the headquarters for Fourth Wing’s War Games, and I did so. We stopped to rest our riot at the nearest lake past the wards, and we were attacked by gryphons.” Xaden states, fists at his side as he looks at both General Sorrengail and Colonel Aetos. “It was a surprise attack, and they caught Deigh and Fuil unaware.” He pivots slightly, telling the wing the rest of what we don’t know. “They were dead before they ever had a chance.” My Wingleader looks at my briefly for the first time in what seems like years, for a moment there is a crack in his ever perfect expression. 

I must have blinked, I must’ve staggered. My knees crash against the hard floor for a moment before arms reach themselves around my waist to hoist me up. We lost Liam? We lost Soleil? I can’t hear anything other than the rushing of my own blood through my very veins, the beat of my heart as if it were to come out of my chest. Violet flits her hands around my face, her mouth moving but for the life of me I don’t know what she’s saying. 

Liam was so good. Too good. And just like that he is gone? 

“And we almost lost Sorrengail.” 

Violet’s eyes widen as she takes in the horror in my eyes. My friends were in trouble and I wasn’t there. I wasn’t there. Tears blur my vision, and all I can do is breathe through the rattling in my chest. 

I will never forgive you. Pushing the thought towards Xaden. Watching as his spine stiffens, the hurt flicker in his eyes, before shoving it all away. 

“Breathe,” a warm voice whispers against my ear, “ Or you’ll pass out.” The emotions of everyone in the quadrant are too much. However, Garrick Tavis’ were always those of beacons to me - I was nothing more than a boat lost at sea in this very moment. Feeling his grief, his anguish, but also his relief, was enough to calm and steady my breaking heart. 

“Let go of me,” shrugging myself out of his hold, I get back into proper formation. Violet watches warily, unsure of what to do. “Go help our Wingleader, Cadet Sorrengail.” Hurt flickers from her emotional tether, being dismissed was something she didn’t think I would ever do to her. In this moment I don’t know who to bother with anymore. However, in a matter of less than a day it won’t matter anymore - I will be long gone, a new post, a new death sentence. 

Making myself numb to the rest of the questioning, I don’t bother with the insistent touching from Garrick as he tries to get my attention. I don’t bother with the few glances from Xaden, and unfortunately I can’t be open to the bond between Rathnait and I - not able to hear her in this moment despite her ramming against my shields. I know it isn’t her fault, this hurt and sense of loss that I feel - but I’d rather be alone. 

With dismissal from command, Xaden and Violet get back into formation. There is words exchanged between them and Dain, but again why does any of it matter anymore? As Captain Fitzgibbons calls out the additional names to the amended death roll, there are no tears shed, there is only silence, deathly still silence. Commandant Panchek takes the stand and addresses what is left of the riders remaining. “Beyond military commendations, there are no words of praise for rider. Our reward for a job well done is living to see the next duty station, the next rank. In keep with our traditions and standards, those of you who have completed your third year will now be commissioned as lieutenants in the army of Navarre. Step forward when your name is called to receive your orders. You have until morning to depart for your new duty stations.” 

The orders I received earlier feel like weights against my breast pocket. I had received mine earlier as a taunt, a warning since command had already believed that my Wingleader and his squad were dead. My duty station was punishment for whatever it was that Xaden and Garrick had been involved in, what they are still involved in. 

“Garrick Tavis!” My heart feels like it lodges itself in my throat, as if it were to splatter all over the floor as I look at him, fully look at him for the first time in days as he strides towards the commandant. A new scar lines from his jaw to his temple, deep and red - fresh. His wide strong frame grabs the paper and lets out a breath as he reads the duty station he is assigned to before looking at me as he makes his way back to formation. For the first time, I note an emotion that is rare from him, from someone I have come to know as unwavering. 

He’s scared. Garrick Tavis is afraid. 

[wingedshadowfan]

i've spoken about this before but let me dissect one of the most controversial fourth wing paragraphs:

Tairn puts us into position, hovering about twenty feet aboveground as Liam flies for the gryphons above us, wielding spears of ice into the injured wyvern’s throat. Blood streams as the wyvern falls from the sky with an ear-piercing cry.

liam's signet is farsight, so how was he wielding ice?

possible theories:

marked ones have two signets and that's just liam's second one (i don't like this theory, it makes them too op and they already have the advantage of being immune to melgren's battle outcome foreseeing powers when there's at least three of them together; i also don't like the possibility of xaden's second signet being mind reading, if marked ones really have two)

it was just a mistake and it was meant to be another third year who was wielding the ice spears and not liam since ice wielding is rather common (i don't like the idea that there was such an obvious mistake left in the book since liam's signet being farsight has been mentioned multiple times, all in that same stretch of chapters - before breaking into lilith sorrengail's office for war games, when he tells king tauri at the reunification party, when they arrive at athebyne and he sees the venin)

saying 'liam' is a figure of speech and it was actually his dragon deigh who was wielding the ice spears since her name means 'ice' in scottish gaelic (i like this one but we don't know for sure if grown dragons can do things like that, we know they have their own magic - like tairn keeping violet seated, or some but not all dragons sensing the wards faltering meaning some might have powers related to weaving/unweaving wards, like mira/nadine do - but its extent is still unclear to us)

my theory:

liam was wielding ice himself - his only signet is farsight, and his ice wielding is some crazy form of lesser magic that he developed himself and kept secret!

supporting evidence/explanation:

Since Dain told me about the patch denoting his top secret signet, I’ve been paying close attention to the patches other cadets have sewn into their uniforms. Most wear them like badges of honor, but I recognize them for what they really are—intelligence that I might one day need to defeat them.

-violet's comment on the importance of knowing someone's signet or abilities (because we know from liam and garrick's patches that they can also denote wielding weapons or riders' hand to hand combat strengths, not just their signets)

I notice not for the first time that other than his Fourth Wing and wingleader emblems, he doesn’t wear the patches others are so fond of displaying.

-xaden not wearing his signet/combat skill patches, then saying this later on in the book:

“Promise me you won’t tell anyone about the time-stopping,” Xaden asks as we head back into the tunnel, but it feels an awful lot like a command. “It’s not just for your safety. Rare abilities, when kept secret, are the most valuable form of currency we possess.”

if ice wielding isn't as rare then why did liam not do the exact opposite and keep his farsight a secret instead (lying his signet is actually ice wielding)? probably because farsight is not as useful in direct combat and he's easily underestimated when he says his signet is just farsight, which is exactly xaden's point

“And your gift?” King Tauri asks Liam. “Farsight, Your Majesty,” Liam responds. Melgren’s eyes narrow on Liam’s exposed rebellion relic, then rise to his sash. “Mairi, as in Colonel Mairi’s son?”

liam is incredibly good at hand to hand combat, and with his lesser magic being ice wielding, he made shish kebab out of that wyvern, so i'd say keeping that ability secret (and only showing it in front of other marked ones and violet in a life vs death battle) was a good call.

the biggest plot holes here are that we don't know much about lesser magic yet:

we know mage lights, speed, voice amplification, etc are lesser magic multiple people have learnt to wield (so far we've seen only marked ones do it but it's probably because riders are taught to do it in later years): so what are the extents of lesser magic? is ice wielding even possible as lesser magic? if wards for example can be both lesser magic (xaden warding violet's door) all riders are taught in their third year, and a signet at the same time (mira's), then so can ice wielding

if so, wouldn't that mean many people can just learn to do it (ice wielding as lesser magic)? so did liam teach himself? or did someone else teach him and only him? when? how? because we're left with the impression that ice wielding isn't a rare signet but we've never heard of anyone having it as lesser magic - it's probably quite hard, and maybe liam isn't as good at it as those who have it as their signet

[checkoutmybookshelf]

Ok, something has been bugging me about Dain and his signet, and I want to talk about it for a second.

I was thinking back over Fourth Wing and Iron Flame to see if there were any moments where Vi consented to having her memories read, and not only was the answer no, somethig HELLA chilling popped up when I went back to check the text.

When Xaden explains to Vi that Dain has to touch someone's face to read their memories, her response is "...that's how he always touches me" (Fourth Wing, 450). I get that Dain's signet is secret and he can't just TELL Vi what he can do when he catches her immediately after she crosses the parapet, but one of the first things he does in that scene is take her chin (Fourth Wing, 32) in his fingers. He establishes a pattern of behavior, normalizes his touching her face as a habit. And yes, it could be argued that not touching her face would also give away his signet somehow, but as the person with knowledge, Dain is responsible for the ethics of using and setting patterns around his signet. He either had to just...NOT touch her face, which child be justified by not wanting to make her look weak or come clean. But Dain "my heart is a rulebook" Aetos does neither. And what does THAT do? It puts Vi in a vulnerable as hell position with someone she thinks she is safe with.

Even take the rebellion and Athebyne out if the equation for a sec. Vi almost certainly has memories that are just simply private. Not a massive secret, not a liability, just HERS. And for a huge part of the book, she is just letting Dain touch her face, potentially opening up memories she doesn't want him to know about to his signet. That is a power dynamic so absolutely fucky that I don't have words for it. And then we circle back to the reality that Dain did cross the line and try to take memories by force in Fourth Wing--and succeeding the one time we know about got Liam and Deigh killed. And this is just the main example that we know about. I'm not ruling out that there were other examples still to come to light; we have three books to go in this series.

I honestly also wouldn't have put it past Dain to do a quick memory check when he holds Vi's face at threshing before he kisses her (Fourth Wing, 191). He was NOT happy with Xaden for interfering, and I suspect he wanted a look at what happened without Xaden's input. This is purely my theory, there's no real textual evidence, but I am sus. He also cups her face again the day after threshing (Fourth Wing, 203), which is actively a worse choice I'd he slept on it and THEN checked her memories. I also find it wildly suspicious that the next time Vi sees Dain, she is with Tairn, who actively threatens Dains life if he comes within arm's reach of Vi (Fourth Wing, 215). We know Tairn knew things Vi didn't, so was he already preventing rebellion info from sliding to leadership?

Vi herself doesn't put a hard boundary on the face touching until Dain gets offended by Xaden accusing Amber of violating the codex and goes "gimme" (Fourth Wing, 244-245), but she sets it...for a while. The math on the Athebyne thing works out to Xaden telling Vi that's where he goes on page 391, and then Violet Goddamn Sorrengail gets nostalgic for Dain at the celebration with the king and everyone's parents and let's Dain cup her cheek again on page 405. Which is really goddamn tight timing when you think about it, because he touched her face at the beginning of this party, she and Xaden have their little tete a tete on the parapet, sneak off to have great sex for the rest of the night, and the next morning they are assigned to Athebyne. So Dain literally had to corner his Dad at the party and then Colonel Aetos probably spent the rest of the night changing the war game assignments and setting up Xaden's group to be killed.

Dain Aetos likes hard rules, but not ethics. This just gets even more screwy in Iron Flame, once Varrish gets his hooks in Vi.

If one wanted to be more generous than I'm feeling, one could say that Varrish was being polite about trying to get Dain to read Vi's memories in interrogation class (Iron Flame, 228-230), but honestly the motherfucker just saw an opportunity and rolled with it. And here is where Dain having the codex shoved far enough up his ass that it comes out his mouth is actually a win, because he rules-lawyered the spirit of the codex to refuse an order, but goddamn it was a close thing. This man was REACHING FOR VI'S FACE before he stopped himself.

I'm not like...surprised that Varrish isn't teaching our boy ethics, but I'm a little surprised Vi never called Dain's ass out for his lack of ethics regarding his signet. It's possible I read the Arrows of the Queen trilogy a few too many times though.

What Dain noticeably doesn't do the SECOND time Varrish drags him into an interrogation session with Violet is hesitate. Like he so fails to hesitate that VARRISH of all people has to remind Dain that he actually was taught ethics (Iron Flame, 316).

I think he deserves to experience everything Vi shows him, but the fact that it took THAT MUCH to get his head out of his ass? Yeah, no, we are not doing a Dain Aetos redemption arc.

Because when it comes right down to it, Dain was a) a shitty friend, b) absolutely godawful at ethics and morality, c) to married to rules for his own good, and d) knowingly put Violet in a vulnerable situation vis a vis his signet. Like...its a WAR COLLEGE. You're not running around touching people's faces on the regular anyway, just DONT. TOUCH. HER. FACE. Not before she knows about your signet at the very least, and probably not without her explicit consent after that, because here's the thing: at no point in Fourth Wing or Iron Flame did Dain EVER explicitly ask permission to touch Vi. He just DID it. Right from the beginning, after parapet, at threshing, and at the party, he just put hands on her without asking. And then in Iron Flame he's ordered to explicitly against her will, and as much as I love a good rescue, it does not excuse the massive ethical and consent breaches that have become a PATTERN with Dain.

So those are my thoughts about Dain, his signet, and ethics. All I can say is, I am still extremely not here for a Dain Aetos redemption arc.

[yourfavoritebookclub]

WINGLEADER: A Xaden Riorson POV Fanfiction

CHAPTER 22

The next month is another flurry of classes, supply runs to Athebyne, and aerial training with Sgaeyl. 

The situation on the border is becoming increasingly dangerous, with raids becoming more and more frequent, and we can’t seem to get weapons to the fliers often enough. 

Violet’s training is a test all on its own. Everyday I spend with her tangled up in the mat, or instructing her as she uses magic, is a test of pure willpower. 

She’s so disarming, so intelligent, and driven, that it’s becoming difficult to keep things strictly professional. 

And beautiful. 

So fucking beautiful. 

There are days when she walks into a room and I have to manually override every desire fueled thought that courses through me. And, Gods, she doesn’t make it easy. She pushes, and I don’t know how much longer I can hold out.

“...I need you guys to get to class. Especially you. A signet would be great, you know. If you can maybe make that happen,” I hear Dain say as I walk toward his squad, gathered around the door to Professor Carr’s room. 

“She’s going to miss Carr’s class today” I say to Dain, the only warning of my approach, and Sawyer hurries to move out of the way.

“No, I’m not.” Violet shakes her head and I ignore her, keeping my attention on Aetos. 

“She needs to go,” Dain has the audacity to argue. “I mean, unless the wing has more pressing matters for Cadet Sorrengail, her time is best spent developing her wielding skills.” 

“I think we both know she’s not going to manifest a signet in that room. She would have already if that was the key,” I retort, looking down at him, annoyed.

 Aetos has no clue that I’ve been training her to wield over the last few months, and leave it to him to still believe he knows what’s best for Violet. “And yes, the wing has more pressing matters for her.”

“Sir, I’m just not comfortable with her going a day without at least practicing her wielding, and as her squad leader–”

“For Dunne’s sake,” I sigh, pulling a pocket watch out of my cloak and holding it out to Violet. “Pick it up, Sorrengail.”

Violet glances from Dain to me with an exasperated look on her face, and then looks down at the pocket watch in my hand, her face contorting in concentration.

She raises her right hand, and I can feel the brush of her power as it reaches my palm, a soft caress against my skin.

“You got this,” Rhiannon encourages.

“Let her concentrate,” Sawyer chastises.

The watch pulls from my hand and starts to fall, plummeting to the ground. Violet yanks her hand up and the watch speeds toward her, her other hand coming up to snatch the timepiece before it can smack her in the face.

There’s applause from her fellow first years, and I walk to Violet and pluck the watch out of her hand, dropping it back into my cloak. “See? She’s practiced. Now, we have things to do.” 

I put a possessive hand at the small of her back, delighting at the way Dain stiffens almost imperceptibly.  

I steer Violet away from the group, removing my hand once I feel confident she’s actually following me. “Where are we going?” 

“I’m assuming you’re not wearing flight leathers under that cloak.” I open the door to the dormitory and she walks inside, turning to stare at me, dumbfounded.

“What?” I ask, closing the door and leaving the bitter cold behind us.

“You opened the door for me.”

“Old habits die hard.” I shrug. “My father taught me that–” I hault abruptly as the sting of his memory, so at odds with the woman next to me. 

The hurt settles over me, and the world around me disappears momentarily as images of my father flood my mind. 

Mentoring me on the sparring field, taking Bodhi and I to the Cliffs of Dralor, letting us pick blackberries and play until the sun had fallen behind the horizon.

That final goodbye, where he’d promised to come home.

Even at twenty-three the ache that comes from missing my father feels enormous, like I’m still a child.

“Don’t you think it’s a little cold for flying?” Violet’s voice cuts through my cloud of grief.

I blink, the world coming back into focus. “I’ll wait here.” I say curtly.

Violet walks into her room and changes quickly, reemerging in a set of fur-lined leathers. 

We walk across the courtyard, empty save for a few cadets still rushing off to class.

“You didn’t answer me,” Violet says after a beat of silence.

“About what?” I don’t bother waiting for her, my resentment still fresh, her presence too close for comfort.

“About it being cold for flight.”

“Third-years have flight field this afternoon, Kaori and the other professors are just taking it easy on you guys, since the Squad Battle is coming up and they know you need the practice in wielding.” I push open the gate and stride into the tunnel, Violet hurrying in after me.

“But I don’t need the practice?” she asks doubtfully.

“Winning the Squad Battle is nothing in the scheme of keeping you alive. You’ll be on the front lines before the rest of them come next year.” 

“Is that what’s going to happen next year? I’m going to the front lines?” she asks, her voice holding an edge of uncertainty.

I press my lips into a thin line, the future already becoming a messy tangle between the two of us. “Inevitably. There’s no telling how long Sgaeyl and Tairn will tolerate being separated. My best guess is that we’ll both have to sacrifice to keep them happy.” 

We’re both silent for the remainder of our walk to the Gauntlet, watching the snowy landscape unfold.

“Second Wing,” Violet nods, noting the cadets that move through the Gauntlet, the obstacle course even deadlier with the addition of icy rain and thick clumps of snow. “You sure you don’t want your own squads out here practicing”

A small smile has the corner of my mouth lifting. It’s easy to forget sometimes that she’s still a first-year, and I remember what my own concerns and ambitions were then, all glory and no survival. “When I was a first-year I thought winning was the pinnacle, too. But once you’re in your third year, and you see the things that we do…” I grind my teeth at the horrors the professors have kept well hidden this year. “Let’s just say that the games are a lot more lethal.”

We start up the staircase, but there’s already a group coming down, so we both move off to the side to let them pass. I stand straighter, my spine going rigid as I take in the two figures descending the stairs. 

Commandant Panchek and Colonel Aetos reach the landing, and Colonel Aetos beams at Violet, who might be standing even straighter than I am. “At ease,” he says and her shoulders relax just a fraction. “You’re looking well, Violet. Nice flight lines,” he says, gesturing to the indentations around his eyes from the flight goggles. “You must be getting a lot of airtime.” 

“Thank you, sir, I am.” She smiles back at him, but the smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Dain is doing well, too. He’s my squad leader this year.”

“He told me,” Dain’s father says, his smile growing wider. “Mira asked about you while we were touring the Southern Wing last month. Don’t worry, you’ll get your letter privileges in second year, and then you can keep in touch more often. I’m sure you miss her.”

“Every day.” Violet nods. I wonder what it’s like to be in her position. To be the child of someone like Lillith Sorrengail, to rub shoulders and exchange smiles with these people who destroy, and take, and change the narrative to remain the forever heroes.

The sight of the general coming around the corner and out of the stairwell makes my breath catch, her presence grating against me like salt rubbed into all one hundred and seven scars that sprawl across my back.

“Mom,” Violet’s voice is a burst of air.

The general says nothing to her youngest daughter, just assesses her in that severe way of hers, scanning her from head to toe. “I hear you’re having trouble wielding.” 

Is this the first time she’s seen her mother since Conscription? There’s no warmth in the woman’s gaze, and Violet takes a step backward as if needing to put some distance between Lillith and herself. 

She lifts her chin slightly, “I have the best shields in my year.”

“With a dragon like Tairn, I would certainly hope so.” Her eyebrow quirks up in a look of distaste. “If not, all of that incredible, enviable power will have been…” she sighs in a mockery of dismay, “squandered.”

“Yes, General” is all Violet says in return, something like defeat in her tone.

“You have been the topic of some conversation, though.” General Sorrengail’s gaze lifts to Violet’s head, her mouth tightening in disapproval. I ball my hands into fists at my side, the desire to hit the general growing stronger the longer this interaction takes place.

“Oh?” Violet says curiously.

“We’re all wondering what powers–if any–you’re wielding from the golden dragon?” She smiles, a perversion of kindness. 

Sgaeyl’s growl rumbles through my mind, low and threatening.

“Nothing yet. Andarna told me that feathertails are known for being unable to channel power to their rider. It’s why they don’t bond often.”

What a smooth little liar Violence is.

“Or ever,” Colonel Aetos adds. “We were actually hoping that you might ask your dragon to allow us to study her. For purely academic purposes, of course.”

Nausea rolls through me at the thought of any of them getting their hands on Andarna, a sentiment clearly shared by Sgaeyl.

“I will slaughter them all if they mention her name again.” 

“Easy there, tiger, no one is going to let them near her.”

“Dark One,” She snarls in warning. 

I decide it’s in my best interest to stay quiet. 

“Unfortunately. I don’t see her being comfortable with that. She’s pretty private, even with me.” Violet says with a shrug

“Pity,” Colonel Aetos says simply. “We’ve had the scribes on it since Threshing, and the only reference they can find in the Archives about the power of feathertails is hundreds of years old, which is funny because I remember you father doing a bit of research about the second Kroblan uprising, and he mentioned something about feathertails, but we can’t seem to find that time.” He scratches his forehead in thought.

They all look at Violet expectantly. “I don’t believe he finished his research on that particular historical event before he died, Colonel Aetos. I couldn’t even tell you where his notes are.”

“Too bad.” General Sorrengail tries to smile, it looks more like a grimace. “Glad to see you’re alive, Cadet Sorrengail.” The general’s gaze shifts to me and our eyes lock for the briefest moment. I smooth my features into a mask of cool indifference. “Even if the company you’re forced to keep is more than questionable.”

My whole body feels poised to strike, something instinctual trying to overtake the calm, easy facade I have in place. “I always felt that we resolved any of those questions years ago.” I say quietly, willing myself to breathe evenly, to not allow my hands to shake

“Hmmm” She hums and turns away from Violet and I. “Do see if you can master some kind of signet, Cadet Sorrengail. You have a legacy to live up to.” She dismisses us both, walking past without a backward glance.

“Good to see you, Violet.” Colonel Aetos says to Violet with a pitying smile. Pancheck ignores the both of us, scurrying off to catch up to General Sorrengail.

Without a word Violet stomps up the stairs, her whole body exuding anger.

“You didn’t tell her about how you got out of the attack in your bedroom, and I’m not talking about me showing up.” 

“I don’t ever see her. And you told me not to tell anyone.”

“Didn’t realize it was quite like that between you,” I say softly, a pang of sympathy hitting me in the chest.

“Oh, that’s nothing,” She says nonchalantly, “She spent almost an entire year ignoring me when Dad died.” A bitter laugh rips from her throat. “Which was almost as wholesome as the years she spent barely tolerating my existence because I wasn’t perfect like Brennan or a warrior like Mira.”

“She doesn’t know you very well, then.” I lengthen my strides to keep up with Violet’s furious pace.

She scoffs incredulously. “Or she sees right through me. Problem is, I’m never quite sure which it is. I’m too busy trying to live up to whatever impossible standard she sets to ask myself if they’re even standards I give a shit about.” She swings her angry gaze to me. “And what was that about anyway? Saying that you resolved questions years ago?”

“Just reminding her that I paid the price for my loyalty.” It’s a nonanswer, but it’s the only answer I’m willing to give her. 

“Paid what price?” Of course Violet can’t keep well enough alone.

“Boundaries, Violence.” I warn, the phantom sting of each scar in the forefront of my memories.

Tairn and Sgaeyl both land across the field, Andarna tucking herself between Tairn’s legs.

Violet’s face breaks into a smile so bright that I’m momentarily stunned.

“We’re all flying today?” She asks as we walk toward the trio.

“We’re all learning today. You need to learn to stay on, and I need to learn why the hell it’s so hard for you. Andarna needs to learn how to keep up, Tairn needs to learn how to share his space in a tighter flight formation, and every other dragon but Sgayel is too scared to fly closer.” 

Tairn blows a puff of steam out of his nostrils in agreement.

“And what is Sgaeyl learning?” She asks, her eyes fixed on the navy scaled dragon. 

I grin at Sgaeyl. “She’s been leading for almost three years now. She’s going to have to learn how to follow. Or at least practice. 

Tairn makes a laughing sound deep in his throat and Sgaeyl whirls on him, snapping her teeth at his teasing. 

“Dragon relationships are absolutely incomprehensible.” Violet murmurs under her breath.

“Yeah?” I turn to her, cocking a brow. “You should try a human one sometime. Just as vicious, but less fire.” I run up Sgaeyl’s foreleg, twisting at the last second to swing my leg over the dip in her shoulder and settle into my seat. “Now let’s go.” 

[justallihere]

Powerful Violet is so hot, I am no better than Xaden 😮‍💨

Wonderful chapter. The angst hurts so good😭 Violet missing Xaden without even having all of him, not being able to sleep without him and acknowledging she doesn’t want to be hurt and angry all the time 🥺 she has severe trust issues thanks to Dain and she just needs more time.

Xaden coming through and inviting her to the meeting with the fliers is huge. He’s committed to earning her trust back and I love that. He’s a little touch starved and I’m sad for him. I need his thought process for the following scenes:

- finding her asleep in the library

- watching her with Tairn and Andarna before going to Athebyne

- while she tore cat a new one

Andarna thrashing in her harness is so funnnnny😭 Tairn knew she’d end up with a gryphon in her mouth in 0.2 seconds

I think Bodhi is the only person in Aretia not in the Violet Sorrengail fan club and I need that to change! I need Xaden to realize she stole all of his friends and they would choose her in the divorce (not literally). I always picture him as the easy going version of Xaden with a sarcastic and dark sense of humour. Idk he gives those vibes.

Cannnnot wait for the heist next chapter. It was one of the best parts of IF. I like this version of the characters more and Cam is so funny. He knows Xaden is in love with Violet and I’m excited to see how far he’s willing to push him now that he knows Violet will protect him😂

powerful-and-knows-it Violet is the hottest Violet without a doubt!!

She definitely isn’t giving up on her and Xaden and is slowly admitting to herself what he means to her. And he’s proving that he can be what she needs immediately by telling her about this meeting with the fliers

Xaden in the library + watching her with the dragons is just trying to deal with the distance between them. Him and Sgaeyl both are in pretty bad moods and I imagine, like Tairn and Violet, they kind of feed off of each other, especially since they’re in the same boat right now. Watching her with Cat was just straight up pride—not shock, of course Violet can take care of herself, but just the way she’s stepping into her role as queen is something he enjoys watching

Andarna 😭😭 she definitely would’ve killed someone for insulting Vi if Tairn wasn’t there

Bodhi’s not not in the Violet fan club, they just haven’t been around each other very much yet. Don’t worry, he’ll be firmly on Team Violet soon

[starfall-spirit]

Summary: Liam and Deigh survived, but only just. So close to meeting Malek, trepidatious feelings begin to bloom from all sides of the trio.

AN: SFW, a little angsty, and a quick write with no editing. Enjoy.

Read on Ao3

Violet

Someone had driven nails into her skull while she was sleeping. That, or she just had the worst fucking headache of her life. Fighting past that pain, she began assessing the deep ache in her muscles, every one from head to toe. All pain aside, it was the bone-deep exhaustion that kept her from trying to open her eyes and process her surroundings. Unfortunitely, all that did was clear sleep's fog from her mind, making room for her recent memories to surface.

Venin.

Wyvern.

Liam.

"Liam."

"Alive. Just barely." A warm hand wrapped around hers. Xaden. "He's in the next room. He made it, Vi."

At that she forced her eyes open, taking in the set of his mouth, his furrowed brow, and the soul-deep worry in his eyes. Eyes that had yielded so little in the time they'd known each other. She and Liam had started to change that, cracking his mask. "Liam's okay." She let out a heavy sob. "Deigh made it. Thank Dunne."

"It'll be a slow flight to Basgiath, but Malek hasn't claimed them yet."

The mention of flying had her reaching down her own bonds, searching for those two threads in her mental archives. "We are fine. There is no need for concern."

Still, Violet frowned. "Andarna?"

"She sleeps. And will continue to do so, entering her Dreamless Sleep. She has reached adolescence," he almost grumbled. "You should be in no hurry for her to wake, Silver One. Focus on your partners. And eat something, or I'll tell Sgaeyl's human to make you."

She huffed, but didn't protest, knowing her stomach was on the verge of announcing it's empty state regardless. Besides, she had other bones to pick at the moment. "How long has this been going on?"

Xaden swallowed. Long before they met, then. Still, his secrecy stung. "I told you I had secrets. If I had said something..." Not knowing what Dain had read beyond Athebyne, the logical side of her understood. Emotions shouldn't have a place in this discussion—No. They had moved past the no emotions and feelings stage out on the parapet. She had every right to be hurt by this. "It's clear the second and third years know what you're doing. Liam?"

She saw it. The flicker of hesitation. The urge to cover his brother's mistakes. "Not everything."

Violet swallowed. "I'm going to see him."

"Violet."

"Believe me, Xaden, this conversation is far from over. But I need space. And I need to see he's still breathing."

Forcing her legs under her, she trudged out to the hall, pushing open the cracked door beside hers—Xaden's she supposed. Bodhi's head jerked up from the book resting in his lap. "Well, welcome back." His lips tugged into something that could almost be called a smirk. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you look like death warmed over, mended or not."

"Gee, you must get all the ladies with lines like that. I just need a shower, but..." He nodded, face solemn once more. "Has he woken up yet?"

"Twice, though not for long. The toll on his dragon was heavy. In turn, Liam needs rest too. He'll come out of this just fine, Violet."

"Will he? Will any of us? Soleil won't just be a random name on the death role when we get back to the college, Bodhi." He flinched at that. "I'm sorry. That was cruel."

"It was honest. I'll leave you be."

The door snicked shut behind him, leaving Violet with only her own wild thoughts and Liam's breathing. Stepping forward, she let herself take in the color in his face. The exposed skin of his arms and face bare of any wounds. The rise and fall of his broad chest. Steady. Level. He was alive. "Thank Dunne," she repeated.

And with her relief another memory wriggled forward.

It's been. My honor. I love you, Violet. Another sob clogged her parched throat as she slumped into the chair beside the bed, still warm from Bodhi's natural body heat. People say crazy things on death's door. Had he even meant it? More than that, did she want him to? They're relationship had hardly begun, and now knowing he had hid things from her too. How was she meant to love two men she couldn't trust?

The fact remained, she did. Hurt as she was, part of her wanted—longed for a future with Xaden and Liam in it. If they lived, that is. She couldn't be sure she'd see her next birthday with Venin to worry about. Hell, she wasn't sure she'd see Xaden and Garrick graduate before they were killed without question by their own leadership. "Fuck," she hissed.

"Welcome to my world," Xaden said from behind her. The thud of his boots was near silent as he came to stand in front of her, offering a sturdy tray that held a bowl of stew, hot bread, and a glass of water. "You're no good to him wasting away."

"I told you I wanted space," she growled. "Here you are ten minutes later."

"I'll give you all the time you need. After that bowl of stew is in you." Huffing, she gulped down half of the cool water before taking the spoon and scooping up a slice of carrot and broth. "He said something to you before he passed out."

She took another bite, sighing as her headache already began to dull. Despite how open their relationship was among one another, saying those words to Xaden seemed a daunting task. He hadn't shown the slightest tension since their first night as a triad. Yet she hesitated. "He said he was honored to be my friend and shadow. And that he loved me."

"Meant. Every. Word." She jumped, stew sloshing onto the tray before she set it aside to scramble out of the chair and onto the bed. "Xaden can take me to the mat in a day or two if he's got a problem with it." If he had another quip for their wingleader, Violet quickly silenced it, throwing her leg over his waist to straddle him, claiming his mouth in a desperate kiss. She started to pull away when he flinched at her movement, but the pain had either faded, or Liam had deemed it worth suffering if it kept her mouth on his. "Vi," he breathed, flexing his hands around her waist.

"I am so fucking pissed at you both. But that can wait." Taking a deep, shuttering breath, she pressed her forehead to his. "I love you, Liam. As first my friend, now my partner. I love you."

He stroked his thumb along her bottom lip, a slow smile claiming his mouth. "Good."

Looking back to Xaden, she found only contentment in his eyes. They had many broken pieces to pick up, but they also had something precious. Something worth fighting for.

[bigjuice34]

Private Affair (Year One)

Chapter Two

A/N: Hello! Here is chapter 2 finally. I've unfortunately been swamped with finals and my school semester wrapping up so I apologize for the delay. Hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 4.6k

Freya’s eyes widened while scanning the courtyard she and the boys entered along with the other cadets, but she remained silent.

Despite the somewhat regal and historic image the stone buildings of Basgiath’s citadel gave off, she couldn’t be too impressed by it while knowing what happened there. The pain, the death and the agony, it was nothing to be celebrated. And yet, there she was.

It felt odd for Freya to think so poorly of the rider's quadrant. She came from a long line of riders after all.

Her parents, older brother, two of her uncles and many relatives that came before them were some of the greatest riders Tyrrendor had to offer. Members of the Tarlor family were no strangers to powerful signets or the incredible dragons that allowed them to wield such abilities. Freya grew up fascinated by what riders could do with their bonded dragons. She knew and respected the significant history of the pairing between vulnerable humans and magnificent beasts and used to dream that maybe one day she’d experience honing a signet of her own. Being a rider was what she was meant to be, she knew that from a young age, but her parents always stressed one thing. Freya would only be a rider if she chose to do so.

While some would feel like they were destined for a certain path because of expectations held by their families, Freya never did. She had a very healthy upbringing. Freya’s parents loved her older brother Caden and her more than anything in the world, and it showed. They were incredible parents who never had a path chosen for either of their children. The choice was entirely up to Caden and Freya what quadrant they wanted to enter when they were older and it was made known that both kids would have their parents’ full support no matter what.

Caden was always going to be a rider, there was never any doubt about that. Despite the almost seven-year age difference between him and Freya, the two siblings were extremely close. He was her protector and she was his light. Caden taught Freya everything she knew about survival and combat. He was the one to always get her out of any trouble, but she grounded him. She reminded him of the good in the world and that there was always something worth fighting for. Freya wanted to be a rider because of him. Caden always stuck up for the little guy, never doubting one’s power despite what others thought and had a gift of recognizing someone’s true capabilities. He wanted to help people and being a rider allowed him to do that in a fulfilling way. Freya wanted to do the same. She knew she could do that in different ways had she decided to go through Basgiath to be a healer, scribe or part of the infantry, but something about having an earned power that could allow her to help others she’d only get by being a rider was what ultimately pulled her in.

However, she remained undecided and valued that she had the choice to make her own decision if her feelings changed. Until that choice was taken from her on top of everything else.

The Tarlor’s were a well-known, aristocratic family from Aretia. They were a powerful family, noted for their significant riders, that had strong allegiances to Fen Riorson and the province of Tyrrendor as a whole. Fen Riorson and Freya’s father, Damon, met following their graduation at Basgiath while at home in Tyrrendor. Since Damon was in the rider’s quadrant and Fen was part of the infantry quadrant, their paths never crossed until Damon was positioned at Athebyne and Fen was there too. Freya never learned what exactly caused them to become so close, but the two formed an unbreakable bond. They became great friends and it was Fen who introduced Damon to Sophia, a childhood friend of his, when she was positioned at Athebyne too after graduation the following year.

Anyone who knew Damon and Sophia always described them as soulmates. They were each other’s perfect match and Damon cursed himself for not getting to know her during their time in the rider’s quadrant. Regardless, it didn’t take much for them to fall in love with each other. It was the easiest thing either of them had ever done.

After almost two years of being in a relationship, Sophia became pregnant with Caden. The pregnancy was a surprise as the two weren’t married yet, but they didn’t care. They were ready to bring a child into this world together and would do everything in their power to protect them. It was a no-brainer for them to ask Fen to be Caden’s godfather. He was the first person they thought of as someone who would look after Caden if something ever happened to them, and that was a role Fen took very seriously.

Seven months after Caden was born, Damon and Sophia married. Seven years later, Freya was born in Aretia and that’s where their family stayed.

She and Xaden grew up together. While Xaden was born in March, Freya was born in April of the same year. They were inseparable and neither of them knew life without the other in it.

Freya was there when Xaden’s mom left. He had just turned 10 years old and she was about to turn the same age in the coming weeks. Xaden became a shell of himself, taking the blame for his mother leaving as solely his fault. Freya was there for him throughout his stages of grief, betrayal and acceptance. She was the one Xaden leaned on most while he navigated his feelings and Freya never wavered in being the support system her best friend needed. However, Freya would never forget or forgive Xaden’s mother for causing him such pain.

Being there for Xaden came so naturally to Freya, she never thought anything of it. She knew if the roles were reversed, Xaden would undoubtedly be the one picking up her pieces. Their friendship and loyalty to one another was so simple to them. They never had to question it, but didn’t realize how the significance of their friendship was noted by others.

Then one night, Freya learned what it meant to be that person to Xaden from someone else’s perspective.

It was during the summer while they were still 10 years old. Fen put together a gathering to celebrate an alliance he formed with a notable family from the Krovla Province of Poromiel. The alliance was in the form of Xaden becoming betrothed to the family’s daughter, Catriona.

That was the first time Freya ever felt a pang of jealousy regarding anything to do with Xaden, but she tried to not let it show and continued being there for her friend during such an event. It was overwhelming for both of them, but only they tell the toll it was taking on the other. However, they stayed present and respectful the entire time. Then later on in the evening, Freya was pulled aside by Xaden’s father.

“My darling, Freya,” Fen spoke, smiling as Freya greeted him with a hug and that smile only grew once he had her at arm's length again and got a good look at her. “The daughter I never had.”

“Hi, Fenny,” Freya greeted, giggling. Sure, he was Caden’s godfather, but Fen Riorson had a strong bond with both of the Tarlor children.

“How’s my favourite girl?”

“Good. Have you seen Xaden? I think my parents want to leave soon and I wanted to say goodbye, but I can’t find him.”

“I think he stepped outside to get a breath of fresh air,” Fen told her, knowing that was exactly where Xaden had gone off to. Freya nodded in response and turned to make her way outside to find him, but Fen kept her where she was for a moment. “Freya, can I talk to you briefly before you go?”

“Of course,” she responded and looked back to face him, feeling a bit concerned about the unreadable expression on his face. “Is everything okay?”

Fen pondered his words, not taking his eyes off the young girl, and then nodded.

“Of course, sweetheart. You don’t have to worry about me. I wanted to talk to you about Xaden.”

Freya nodded but stayed silent.

“He loves you, Freya. I hope you know that,” Fen continued. “Even if he’s not so great at showing it. You’re the greatest friend he’s ever had and he needs you. There’s going to be tough times ahead for you both, but I need you to promise me that you’ll stick by him. He may seem like he’s pushing you away, but he’s not. He never will. You’re part of him.”

Freya looked puzzled.

“Fen, is something bad going to happen?” She asked softly, her expression showing the concern she was feeling.

Fen sighed.

“You’ve always been so wise beyond your years. But, there’s nothing you need to worry about right now, darling. So please don’t stress. Things are changing and not everything is not as it seems, but that’s life. And I just need to know that in this crazy life, Xaden will always have you in his corner.”

“Always,” Freya promised after a moment of silence. She was still processing what Fen said, trying to understand any underlying meaning of it, but she couldn’t think of anything. “He’s my best friend.”

“And you’re his. Now you go find him, he needs you.”

Freya nodded again, then she was off. Fen watched her go, knowing she was one of the only people who would be able to keep his son grounded despite how unhappy he was with the betrothal. As long as Xaden had Freya, he was going to be ok.

That conversation was one of Freya’s most prominent memories of Fen Riorson. It could’ve been the years later when strange things began to happen and Fen seemed to be at the root of it, or when Freya was forced to watch her parents and Caden all be executed by General Melgren’s dragon for their part in the rebellion all while being told it was Fen Riorson who ultimately ended their lives. But no, that conversation was what stuck with her.

Freya wanted to hate Fen, she really did. Part of her did blame him for the death of her family, but she knew at the end of the day, they made their own choices and knew what they were getting into. They always did. And with their death, they took Freya’s choice regarding her future to the grave with them.

Not that she thought she needed to explain, but Freya felt her resentment towards the rider’s quadrant was warranted as she continued glancing around the courtyard.

“You seem deep in thought,” Xaden spoke up, making Freya jump as she was brought back to reality. “What’s on your mind, Fern?”

Freya sighed as she looked down and kicked a loose rock amongst the gravel they walked on, but made sure to look at Xaden in the eyes when she spoke again.

“Your dad, actually,” she said softly and didn’t miss the way Xaden stiffened. “I was thinking about whether or not I would still be in this quadrant if it weren’t for him.”

Xaden studied her for a minute, still able to read her like he’s always been able to. However, he was very aware things weren’t the same.

“In a good way or a bad way?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

Freya’s gaze fell to the ground again, missing the way Xaden and Garrick glanced at each other. The Freya they knew was always going to be a rider even though she never fully admitted it to herself. Caden was the main reason for that. Both boys truly believed this was the path she would’ve chosen for herself, but they didn’t dare say that. She had a right to feel indifferent and they respected that.

Neither of them knew what to say, but, they knew they had time to figure it out.

“Freya,” Garrick started, then took a breath as he debated his next words. “I- I think Caden would be really glad you’re here.”

“Caden’s dead,” Freya replied bluntly with a shrug before tilting her head toward the sky and blinking back the tears she spent the last three years suppressing. If anyone was going to see her be vulnerable, it sure as hell wasn’t going to be anyone in that courtyard. She trusted Xaden and Garrick, but no one else. “This was always supposed to be something we bonded over. I never wanted to do this without him.”

“Well, now you get to do it with us,” Garrick offered, trying to ease the mood. He felt a sense of relief when a small smile tugged at Freya’s lips before she looked back at him and Xaden.

“Even if it’s forced,” Xaden teased, taking the opportunity to continue lightening the mood. “Let’s be real, there’s no one else you’d want to be here with.”

“Having you two here is a great consolation prize, I will admit,” Freya said, then shook her head. “Gods, I just still can’t believe we’re all together again. I knew it was coming, but it still doesn’t seem real.”

“I know,” Xaden spoke softly, but firmly. “But we’re going to get through this and get out of here. All three of us.”

That was a promise, Freya could tell. There wasn’t an ounce of doubt in those gold-flecked onyx eyes of his.

“We’ve got some time to kill too,” Garrick explained. “Who knows how many people are still waiting to cross the parapet.”

“So we’ve got some time to catch up,” Xaden stated, then looked back at Freya to begin.

The three of them walked off to the outer edge of the courtyard. Far enough that no one could eavesdrop on their conversation, but they were still close enough to survey the remaining cadets that trickled in. Freya wasn’t sure where she should start, but she figured from the beginning was best.

She told the boys that following their parents’ execution, she remained in Tyrrendor. The foster family she was relocated to was near the coast of the most north-western part of the province, near the border of Calldyr Province. Freya explained that even with her two uncles, who were both riders and still alive as they had no part in the rebellion, Melgren ultimately made the decision that would not allow her to live with them. They fought for her, but it was useless. Freya was deemed a threat having both parents and a brother have such significant roles in the rebellion that Melgren was taking no chances having her remain with any family members.

Luckily for Freya, she adored her foster family. She went into their home with every guard up that she could fathom, feeling like the world was against her and they let her. They didn’t try to force those walls down, instead, they were patient, and kind and even showed her love while she gradually learned to trust them and allowed them to get to know her. They had one child, a little girl named Ingrid who was 10 years old when Freya moved in. There was a seven-year age difference between them, the same age gap between Freya and Caden. Ingrid became one of Freya’s favourite people in the entire world and she was so determined to set a good example for the little girl that so obviously looked up to her. She couldn’t let Ingrid down.

Freya’s foster father was a rider and it didn’t take him long to realize that was what Freya was destined to be as well. He worked with her on her combat skills, impressed by what she already knew from training with Caden. However, she did learn some lethal moves from him that she couldn’t wait to put to use during her time at Basgiath. Her foster mother was one of the purest souls Freya had ever met. She was a healer and cared so much about people, no matter their background. She always found the good in someone and told Freya that was why she agreed to take in one of the rebellion kids. She felt they deserved a family willing to take a chance on them after everything that happened. Freya was immensely grateful she was the one sent to them.

During her time with her foster family, Freya was able to get in contact with her uncles. It took some time but with the significant connections her foster father had, they were able to get a location and Freya sent them a letter. She didn’t know if she’d hear back from them, but eventually, she did get a letter back and was even reunited with them two months before she left for Basgiath when they flew to her on their dragons.

“I’m still amazed that your foster father was able to find your uncles,” Garrick said after all three of them finished getting each other up to speed. It’d already been over an hour since they first got in the courtyard. “Not only the fact that he was willing to help you, but just that he managed to do it.”

“I know, especially with how my uncles were out near the Esben Mountains,” Freya replied, then glanced at Xaden, who was looking at the ground in seemingly deep thought. “My foster father tried to help me find the two of you too.”

“What?” Xaden asked, his gaze snapping to hers immediately. “He did?”

“Yeah. He knew he could get in a lot of trouble doing so, but he wanted to help. Now knowing where the two of you were, it’s crazy thinking about what seemed like a dead end wasn’t too far off from finding you both.”

Xaden’s gaze softened at that and it looked like he wanted to say something else, but then the last few remaining cadets trickled into the courtyard. Amongst them, were a few other marked ones which Freya noticed Xaden keeping a close eye on.

“Xaden, you can go talk to them,” Freya suggested as she observed him.

“We know you want to,” Garrick added. “Understandably so.”

“I don’t want to overstep,” Xaden stated and shook his head. “They’re probably fine.”

“The only reason any of us are still alive to even go through this hell of a war college is because of you, Xaden,” Freya told him, her tone unwavering. “And we all know it. You’re responsible for them, just like you are us. It’s not unreasonable to want to talk to them. Garrick and I will get acquainted with them when we have the chance to.”

Freya was referring to the rule of no more than three marked ones being allowed to be together and with the way Xaden nodded, it seemed he knew that. However, shortly after those last few cadets, so did the riders from the other turret. They all stride up to the stone dais to the right side of the parapet where others decked out in full military gear are already standing.

“It’s about to start,” Xaden said, and all three faced forward along with the other cadets.

“Three hundred and sixteen of you successfully crossed the parapet and became cadets today,” Commandant Panchek spoke loudly and clearly. “Congratulations. Forty-nine did not.”

Freya blinked at the number of casualties. Two of those forty-nine happened around the same time she was on the parapet. The girl who fell immediately after stepping on and the boy who was directly in front of her. Freya cringed at the memory.

Pancheck went on to speak about the Codex and the trials everyone would face during their time in the rider's quadrant. He emphasized making it to Threshing and eventually graduation. Freya listened, but it wasn’t anything she didn’t already know.

“I’ll now leave you to your wingleaders. My best advice? Don’t die.”

A male wingleader, the same rider that put Amber in her place after the parapet, stepped forward.

“Hello everyone, I’m Nathan Harmon, senior wingleader of the quadrant and wingleader of Fourth Wing.”

Somewhere in the crowd, Freya knew Amber Mavis was shaking and she couldn’t help but smile at the thought. However, she kept her eyes forward as Nathan stepped to the side and the female who took names at the beginning of the parapet introduced herself as wingleader of First Wing and began assigning cadets to their squads and sections in her wing.

Freya, Xaden and Garrick all stayed silent as they listened to names being called, but neither of theirs was. Two of the marked ones that were among the last on the parapet were assigned to Second Wing, while a couple of others Freya recognized the last names of were split between First and Third Wing. She didn’t miss Amber being assigned to Third Wing either but zoned out since she didn’t care where the girl ended up.

Eventually, Nathan stepped forward again and started naming cadets to his wing. By process of elimination, Freya knew this was her wing and looked at Xaden and Garrick shocked, but grateful the three of them would at least be in Fourth Wing together. She knew it was too good to be true for them to be in the same squad, so she was happy with what she got.

“Freya Tarlor,” Nathan said, catching Freya off guard as she was still zoned out, then quickly glanced at Xaden and Garrick. They nodded encouragingly then Freya made her way to the last available spot in her group. She officially belonged to First Squad, Flame Section, Fourth Wing. She already hated being away from Xaden and Garrick, she just got them back after all, but she took a deep breath and kept her gaze forward.

“Freya,” a voice to her left sounded, making Freya jump. She played it off easily, though, and recollected herself as she looked over and saw Nova as part of her squad. Freya immediately relaxed.

She sent Nova a smile but didn’t get the chance to say anything as Nathan spoke up again, bringing their attention back to him.

“Second Squad! Flame Section! Fourth Wing,” he stated. “Xaden Riorson.”

Freya couldn’t help the relief that washed over her hearing Xaden’s name get called. They weren’t in the same squad, but the same section was more than enough for her. She glanced to her right, waiting for Xaden to walk past up to the front left corner of the space that was designated for his squad. That was where those first called to a squad lined up and so on. Since Freya was the last member of her squad, she stood at the back right of their area.

However, Xaden never walked past. Instead, he positioned himself in the back left of his area, directly next to Freya despite the small space that separated their squads. Some cadets looked at him oddly since he was the only one to break formation, but it was obvious Xaden didn’t care.

“You’re something else, Riorson,” Freya said under her breath after Nathan continued calling names and those cadets followed proper formation.

“You’re acting like you’re not used to it,” Xaden replied with a smirk, making Freya roll her eyes.

“Garrick Tavis,” Nathan said and Freya didn’t need to look over to see that Garrick took the open spot to Xaden’s right despite all of the open space still. But, she did and she couldn’t help but smile at her guys.

Nathan finished calling out the names in Second Squad, then moved on to Third Squad. After that, he moved on to Tail Section, the last section of their wing.

Once Nathan was done, he stepped back and nodded to First Wing’s wingleader and she stepped forward again.

“You’re all cadets now,” she stated gracefully, but her tone soon turned harsher. “Acquaint yourself with those in your squads, they’re the only ones, by Codex, not allowed to kill you. Others will try to and if your fellow cadets don’t weed out the weak, the dragons will.”

Cheers broke out in the crowd as she spoke. But as if on cue, a much louder noise drowned them out. Freya knew the noise, it was the sound of wings flapping.

Everyone looked skyward to see the group of seven dragons flying. Some watched in awe, thinking the dragons were going to fly over the citadel, but there was no chance. Those dragons were coming straight for them.

The wind from the dragons’ wings picked up drastically as they pitched vertically for the citadel, whipping Freya’s braid around and making more dark strands come loose. Some cadets ducked, others cowarded behind their peers in fear, but Freya didn’t. She stood her ground and watched as each of the seven dragons landed on the outer semicircle wall of the courtyard.

There were two red dragons, two orange, and three brown all looking at the collection of cadets with nothing but pure judgment. However, they noticeably left an empty spot on the wall, as if they were waiting on another dragon. Soon enough, a mighty roar sounded and everyone looked up again.

A massive green dragon, notably larger than the other seven but not by too much, with a morning star tail flew above them. Various shades of blue and purple shone on its chest scales where the light from the sun just barely peaking out from the clouds hit it perfectly, creating a stunning iridescent illusion. The dragon pitched vertically, just like the others had then spread its wings wide, slowing its descent as it perched on its saved spot along the wall.

Freya heard some screams and didn’t miss the few cadets that broke out into a sprint away from the formation. She knew they wouldn’t make it far, the dragons would see to that and out of the corner of her eyes, she could see some of the dragons lean down to greet those cadets with their fiery demise. However, Freya couldn’t take her eyes off the sole green dragon.

It sat there so regally, so calm. It was like it knew it didn’t need to take care of any of the fleeing cadets because the others would do it for them. Instead, the green stayed perched, its golden eyes scanning the crowd, judging those below.

There was no way for Freya to explain it, but something about the dragon seemed familiar. She’d seen dragons of most colours before so it wasn’t that, but for some reason, she felt like this one might be one she’s crossed paths with before. From a distance, of course.

The green dragon continued looking over the crowd until finally, its gaze landed on Freya, halting its movements completely.

Freya held her breath as the dragon seemingly glanced at the relic on her arm, then back to her, and that’s when she saw it. The distinctive heterochromia in the dragon’s right eye which swirled a stunning blue amongst the gold, unlike any other dragon she’d seen before. But Freya knew this one.

“There’s no way,” she whispered, not looking away from the dragon as it leaned toward her, studying her, before stopping again.

“Freya, what is it?” Xaden asked, concern lacing his voice as he made his presence known on her left and another person, assumedly Garrick, stood on her right.

But Freya stayed silent, not backing down from the dragon as she tried so desperately to wait for confirmation that her suspicions were true. After a brief moment, the dragon puffed out a non-threatening blast of warm steam toward her and that was the only confirmation she needed before she spoke up again.

“That’s Caden’s dragon.”

[angstywaifu]

Goodbye - Garrick Tavis

Request by @fw-gt - "I never want to see you again." A/N: This was a weird one to write. I'm torn between liking writing this, but also hating writing something like this for my main Rebellion boy. Please don't hate me! But I hope you enjoy it.

Masterlist

I stare at Garrick in shock as I try to process his words as my heart thunders in my chest, and my blood runs cold. My mind torn between lashing out at him or breaking down and crying. My mind decides on a mixture of both as silent tears start to fall down my cheeks and my eyes narrow at him.

”What did you say?” I manage to get out in a somewhat neutral tone.

I watch as he hangs his head and his shoulders sag. “We need to stop seeing each other. It’s too dangerous.”

”Too dangerous? Why is it all of a sudden too dangerous?” I snap at him.

I’m glad the courtyard is empty, the rest of the quadrant in the dinning hall celebrating graduation. All except Garrick and I. Garrick who has just broken my heart.

”You know why.” He says angrily as he lifts his head to look at me. “I nearly lost you in that attack!”

”And I nearly lost you! But you don’t see me throwing the last two years down the drain because of it!” I yell back as I step towards him.

His gaze hardens at my words and I watch as I notice the tick in his jaw. “You know the last two years have meant so much to me. Do not question that. This isn’t easy for me to do.”

“Then why are you doing it?” I demand.

”Because I will not let them use you to get at me. And don’t you try tell me they won’t because they will. We both know they will do whatever they can to get at us. To get information out of us. And I can’t protect you if I am not here.” His voice shakes at the end.

As much as I know it is hurting him to do this, I still see red. He was willing to end this because of one thing going wrong. Yes we lost people, but we had both walked out alive. Alive and together. We had both fought to make sure we made it back to each other.

”What about Xaden and Violet?” I ask him.

His eyebrow furrows. “What has this got to do with them?”

”Is he also ending things with Violet to protect her?”

”Their situation is complicated. This is different.”

”Different?” I shake my head at him, a sarcastic laugh escaping my lips. “No. It isn’t. She is also in danger, probably more so than me. And we both know I can protect myself better than her.”

"They have mated dragons. She’s a target no matter what he does.”

”And I will be to. We don’t need to be in a relationship for them to know they can get to you through me. I have a target on my back regardless of what we do. I have a target on my back just for being in Athebyne.”

”At least I can try to protect you by doing this.” He tells me softly as he steps towards me as he goes to grab my hand.

I step back out of his reach, shaking my head at him as new tears roll down my face. “You should know more than anyone I do not need protecting. I have been through the same shit as you. I can handle myself.”

He tries to reach for me again. I take another step back. “I know you can. Gods I know you can. I have never doubted your ability to fight or protect yourself. But at least I can try lessen the threat against you. When this is all over we can go back to how things were. Back to each other.” He pleads to me.

“No. There is no us after this is all done. I never want to see you again.” I say sternly even though it breaks my heart to.

I stare into his eyes as I shake my head and I can see the moment his heart breaks. As he realises he’s fucked up. I watch as his hand reaches for me. My body screams at me to rush into his arms and take it all back. To say I will wait for him. But it’s too late. Garrick had broken my heart beyond repair. I watch as tears form in his eyes, one escaping and rolling down his cheek.

”You…. You don’t mean that.” His voice quivering as he speaks. His chest rising and falling faster, his panic setting in.

”Goodbye Garrick.” I say before turning on my heel and walking away.

Each step being harder than the next. I hear a small thud behind me. As I go to turn the corner I see Garrick kneeling on the ground where I left him and my broken heart.

[nomie-11]

Chapter 3 - Seven Days Between Us

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“...Garrick Tavis. Xaden Riorson.” Captain Fitzgibbon’s voice carries over the formation as he reads from the death roll. 

“Well, isn't this awkward,” Xaden smirks, and every head in the courtyard turns in their direction. 

Genevieve’s heart is beating out of her chest as she glances over at Violet, who raises her chin in defiance, mirroring Xaden who is two steps ahead. He moves without fear, his shoulders straight and his head high. Every movement and stride of his anger-manifesting body is powerful and purposeful and Genevieve can’t get over the fact that she almost wants him dead. 

“You’re not… dead.” Captain Fitzgibbons, the scribe assigned to the Riders Quadrant, stares with wide eyes beneath his silver brow. His face turns a pale cream color, mirroring the folds of his uniform as his hands fumble with the death roll, dropping it. 

“Guess not,” Xaden replies. 

Commandant Panchel’s mouth hangs open as he turns toward them from his seat on the dais, and within seconds, General Sorrengail and Colonel Aetos stand, blocking his view. A scribe girl grabs the death roll, and signs something at Violet, which Violet promptly responds to. Fuck, I wish I knew sign. 

Colonel Aetos’ cheeks grow increasingly red with every step the group takes, and his gaze skims the party, no doubt assessing who is here and who isn’t until his gaze lands on Genevieve and his eyes narrow. She clenches her fist, raising her own chin to replicate Violet’s false confidence. 

General Sorrengail almost smiles when she sees Violet, and it’s almost a look of pride, before it’s quickly masked by the professional distance she’s enforced since Violet enlisted. But there’s no anger in her eyes, no fear or shock either. Just relief. Violet was right, she wasn’t involved. 

“I don’t understand,” Fitzgibbons says to the two scribes behind him, then addresses Panchek. “They aren’t dead. Why would they have been reported for the death roll?” 

“Why were they reported for the death roll?” General Sorrengail asks Colonel Aetoes, her eyes narrowing. 

A cold breeze brushes past Genevieve, and her black-streaked hair flutters in the wind. And although it’s a momentary relief from the suffocating heat of July, Genevieve knows from what Violet has told her that this means the general is pissed. A flower blooms on the ground in front of Genevieve. 

“They’ve been missing for six days!” Aetoes seethes, his voice rising with each angry word. “Naturally we reported them dead, but obviously we should have reported them for desertion and dereliction of duty instead.” 

Now his words are pointed at Genevieve, but never once did she desert, she simply was just refusing. 

“You want to report us–” the undercurrent to that tone is obviously directed at Aetos challenging his girl, but that’s something Genevieve is choosing to ignore “--us for desertion?” Xaden walks up the stairs of the dais, and Aetoes backs up a step, fear flashing across his eyes. “You sent us into combat, and you’re going to report us for desertion?” 

Another twisting black vine is creeping up from the ground. 

“What is he talking about?” General Sorrengail asks, looking between Xaden and Aetos. 

“I have no idea.” Aetos grinds out. 

“I was directed to take a squad beyond the wards to Athebyne and form the headquarters for Fourth Wing’s War Games, and I did so. We stopped to rest our riot at the nearest lake past the wards, and we were attacked by gryphons.” The lie was so smooth, it was infuriating. But impressive, because he doesn’t have a single tell. 

“It was a surprise attack, and they caught Deigh and Fuil unaware.” Xaden pivots slightly, as though he’s telling the wings and not leadership. “They were dead before they ever had a chance.” 

Genevieve watches as tears form in Violet’s eyes and her breath hitches. Cadets around them murmur, but she stays focused on Xaden, trying to ignore the pain on her ex-best friend’s face. 

“We lost Liam Mairi and Soleil Telery,” Xaden adds, and then looks over his shoulder at Violet. “And we would have lost Sorrengail if Hale didn’t save her.” 

General Sorrengail pivots, and for a second she looks down at Violet in a way that isn’t reminiscent of a senior commanding officer. There’s worry and a touch of horror in her eyes. She looks like a mom, and Violet nods, the pain on her face intensifying. 

Then the General looks at Genevieve, and she braces herself for the longest, hardest glare of her life, but there’s approval in the General’s eyes. 

“He’s lying,” Colonel Aetos accuses. The certainty in his voice makes Genevieve almost take her last goodbyes. 

“I’m right behind the ridgeline,” Tairn reminds her. 

“Unclench your fists,” Garrick whispers. “You’re bleeding.” 

Genevieve lets out a shuddering exhale and her fists open, revealing the blood on her palms. 

“Why the hell would I lie?” Xaden tilts his head and looks down at Colonel Aetoes with pure disdain. “But surely if you don’t believe me, then General Sorrengail can discern the truth from her own daughter.” 

And there’s Violet’s cue. She ascends the stairs of the thick, wooden platform to stand at Xaden’s left side. 

“Cadet Sorrengail?” The general folds her arms and looks at her with expectation. 

Violet takes a breath in, and then out, clearing her throat. “It’s true.” 

“Lies!” Aetos shouts. “There’s no way two dragons were brought down by a drift of gryphons. Impossibile. We should separate them and interrogate them individually.” 

Vines snake up the platform posts as Genevieve’s shoulder’s tense. 

Colonel Aetos’s eyes snap to Genevieve’s. “General, surely you cannot believe any word that comes out of anyone’s mouth on her behalf.” 

What the actual fuck did I ever do? 

“My daughter vouches for her,” General Sorrengail crosses her arms over her chest. “Are you saying that a Sorrengail is a liar?” 

Colonel Aetos stiffens, and General Sorrengail gestures to her daughter. “Tell me what happened, Cadet Sorrengail.” 

“We flew for Athebyne, as ordered.” Violet is looking her straight in the eyes. “As Riorson said, we stopped at the lake about twenty minutes out so we could water the dragons and dismounted. I only saw two of the gryphons appear with their riders, but everything happened so damned fast. Before I could even get a grasp on what was happening…” Come on, Violet. Hold it together! Genevieve watches as Violet’s fingers brush over a little carving of Andarna Liam had been working on for her, before she takes a shallow breath. “Soleil’s dragon was killed, and Deigh was gutted.” There are tears in her eyes, but she blinks them away. “We didn’t stand a chance beyond the wards, General.” 

“And then?” The general asks, completely unemotional and unaffected. 

“Then Hale held Liam as he died,” She states, “There was nothing she could do to save him once Deigh had passed.” The tone in her voice is clear to Genevieve that Violet doesn’t believe a single word she is saying. “And I was stabbed mid-flight from a poison-tipped blade.” 

General Sorrengail’s eyes flare, and she jerks her gaze away. Violet turns to face Colonel Aetos as her mother reconciled with the fact that she almost was the mother to only one. “Hale saved me with her signet, so we took her to Athebyne to get her help, but we found the entire outpost deserted and a note that said that Wingleader Riorson could choose to keep watch over a nearby village or race to Eltuval.” 

“Here’s the missive.” Xaden reaches into his pocket and pulls out the orders from War Games. “Not sure what the destruction of  foreign villages had to do with War Games, but we didn’t stick around to find out. Cadet Hale was dying, and I chose to preserve what remained of my squad."He hands the crumpled orders to mom, and Genevieve watches as his eyes narrow in hatred as she opens the missive and sees the lines directed to Genevieve. “I chose to save your soldier.” 

She snatches the orders and stiffens. 

“It took us days to find someone capable of healing Genevive, though I’m sure she doesn’t remember being healed,” Violet finishes. “And the second her life was stable, we flew back here. We arrived about half an hour ago, as I’m sure Aimsir can verify.” 

“And the bodies?” Aetos asks. 

“Half the riot flew back to the lake and burned the bodies of both the riders and dragons, while Riorson took the other half to find help. If you’re looking for proof, then you can find it either about a hundred yards from the lake, in the clearing to the east, or in the fresh scars on our dragons.” Violet finishes with a confident nod. 

“Enough.” The General pauses, no doubt confirming with her dragon, then turns slowly toward Colonel Aetos, and though he has a few inches on her, he suddenly appears smaller. Frost blooms on the black flowers that curl up the dais. “This is your handwriting. You emptied a strategically invaluable outpost beyond the wards for War Games?”

“It was only for a few days,” Aetos retreats a few steps. “You told me the games were at my discretion this year.” 

“And clearly your discretion lacks common fucking sense,” she retorts. “I’ve heard everything I need to hear. Correct the death roll, get these cadets into formation, and commence graduation so the new lieutenants can get to their wings. I expect to see you in my office in thirty minutes, Colonel Aetos.” 

Relief surges through Genevieve, and the flowers on the dais finally wilt and retreat away.

Aetos stands at attention. “Yes, General.” 

“Cadet Hale,” Her voice booms once more, even though Genevieve is only standing a few feet down the dais with the rest of the squad. 

“Yes, General?” 

General Sorrengail steps closer, eyes scrutinizing every inch of her. Her voice is low, but laced with steel. “Did you truly save Cadet Sorrengail out of your own volition?” 

Genevieve’s heart hammers in her chest, but her wrists are not bound and her back is straight as she, for the first time, meets the General’s gaze without flinching. “Yes, General.” she replies with her voice steady.

For a moment, the general’s expression shifts from cold disdain to a flash of appreciation. 

“Thank you, Cadet Hale.” 

—----------------------------------------------

Genevieve didn’t drink. She never did before, and she certainly wasn’t starting now. But seeing all of her friends slightly tipsy—if not plastered—was a real highlight in the hell she had been living in. 

With the third years just graduating, everyone was partying—except for Xaden, who was off doing gods know what—and everyone was tipsy. Rhiannon and Violet definitely had their fair share of lavender lemonade with enough liquor in it to kill a man, and Ridoc was downing beer after beer like it was no one’s business. 

Genevieve had juice. 

A harmless choice, she thought, but her friends certainly didn’t see it that way. Rhiannon, her cheeks flushed and her laughter a little too loud, sidled up next to her, nearly spilling her lavender lemonade all over them both. She leaned in conspiratorially, her expression a mix of amusement and mischief.

“Genevieve,” Rhiannon slurred, stretching her name out in an exaggerated whisper, “why aren’t you drinking? You too good for us or something?”

Before she could answer, Violet joined in, swaying just a little as she draped an arm around Genevieve’s shoulders. Her now sharp and hateful gaze towards Genevieve was softened by the alcohol, her smile wide and teasing. “Yeah, Genevieve, what gives? It’s a celebration! Third years are gone, and we’re second years… you’re not even going to have a single drink with us?” 

Genevieve rolled her eyes but couldn’t help grinning. “Someone has to keep an eye on you all,” she replied, gesturing at the chaos surrounding them. “You’ve had enough for the both of us, anyways.”

”Oh, that’s not it,” Ridoc chimed in from across the table, his voice thick with drunken confidence as he pointed at her, sloshing his ale. “I know what this is about.” 

Genevieve raised an eyebrow, folding her arms, but Ridoc was unfazed. He leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing playfully. “You’re saving yourself for a certain someone, aren’t you? Waiting around with your little juice because you’re hoping to see him before he leaves…”

She shot him a glare, but her cheeks betrayed her, warming under their relentless teasing. “I am not waiting around for anyone,” she protested, but her friends clearly didn’t believe her. “Maybe if you all drank a little less, you’d stop imagining things.”

”Oh, no, no, no,” Ridoc said, shaking his head in exaggerated denial. “This isn’t the liquor talking. We’re soberly and thoroughly convinced that you’re in love with Captain Broody.”

“He’s a lieutenant, actually.” She grumbled looking away. “And I really don’t care all that much.” Except they’ve all seen me in his flight jacket and know that I do, in fact, care a lot about him. Great. 

Rhiannon gasped theatrically, clutching her chest as she collapsed onto Sawyer’s shoulder. “Genevieve, are you saying you’d deny poor Xaden his dramatic farewell? Just think of him, gazing out over the horizon, waiting for you to show up, a single tear rolling down his cheek as he whispers your name—‘Gen…’” she broke off into a fit of giggles, clinking her glass against his as they snickered. 

Genevieve burst out laughing, unable to keep up her nonchalant act any longer. “I don’t think he’d even notice if I wasn’t there. He’s got more than enough on his mind, trust me.” 

“Oh, she’s deflecting!” Imogen shouted, pointing at her with a triumphant grin. “Classic avoidance tactic. Come on, Genevieve. Admit it. We’re your friends! We just want to hear you say it.” 

Sawyer grinned like he’d just won something. “Just once, Genevieve. Just say it—‘I, Genevieve Hale, wish Xaden Riorson would dramatically sweep me off my feet.’”

“Or, ‘I’d simply die without him,’ I’ve definitely heard that one.” Rhiannon added, trying and failing to sound serious. 

Genevieve sighed, exasperated but amused, watching her friends dissolve into a fit of giggles and cheers. Part of her did miss Xaden tonight—there was something reassuring about his quiet presence, even though he drove her mad half the time. And maybe she does want to say goodbye before he leaves. But she wasn’t about to admit that to this drunken crowd. 

“Oh, come on, Genevieve,” Ridoc teased, leaning against the table. “You could have one drink with us. Just one. What’s the harm?”

Genevieve raised her juice defiantly. “I’ll stick with my juice, thanks,” she replied, smirking as she watched them all dissolve into laughter again, teasing her with mock cries of, “Oh, Xaden!” and exaggerated swoons. 

And as her friends laughed and clinked glasses, slinging arms around each other’s shoulders and throwing ridiculous toasts into the air, Genevieve felt her own laughter bubble up, surprised by the lightness in her chest. For the first time in what felt like forever, she relaxed, letting herself be a part of this ridiculous, joyful moment. 

Maybe she’d tell Xaden about it later—though she’d probably leave out the part about the teasing. 

She’d definitely leave out the teasing.

“Having fun?” He asks, pushing through her lowered shields with annoying ease. 

Suddenly, she’s very glad she’s sober, because mixing Xaden and alcohol sounds like the worst idea she could ever come up with. 

“Not really, to be honest.”  There’s this awful wave of longing that crashes over her immediately, and she can’t handle it anymore.

”I’ll be right back,” She says, setting down her glass. 

“Ooooh, Captain Broody calls~” Ridoc teased as Violet giggled. 

“Again, it’s Lieutenant Broody.” She huffed, before sighing. “Please, no one get alcohol poisoning before I get back. I won’t be long.” 

“I certainly hope it will be long,” Rhiannon says, her words slightly slurred. “Otherwise you’ll destroy all my fantasies when it comes to that one.” 

“…what?” Genevieve pauses, her brows drawn in confusion. “Gods, it’s impossible to talk to drunk people.” 

She rolls her eyes once more, before making her way across the chaotic room to Xaden. 

“Genevieve.” Wow, full name? 

“Lieutenant Riorson.” There’s a silver line at his collar showing his new rank, but no other markings that could give away his identity in case he falls behind enemy lines. No unit designation. No signet patches. 

“Hey, Hale,” Garrick says, but Genevieve’s eyes don’t shift away from Xaden. “Good job today.” 

“Thanks, Garrick,” she reposts, moving closer to Xaden despite all the alarm bells and whistles blaring off inside her head. 

“Gods, you two.” Garrick shakes his head. “Do us all a favor and figure your shit out. I’ll meet you at the flight field.” He smacks Xaden’s shoulder and walks off. 

“You look…” she sighs, because it’s not like she’s ever successfully lied to him before, sober or not. “Really good in officer flight leathers.” 

“They’re almost exactly like cadet ones.” A corner of his mouth lifts, but it’s not quite a smile. 

“You looked good before, too.”

Xaden tilted his head, eyes narrowing thoughtfully as he scanned her face. “You’re not drunk at all.” 

“Believe it or not, I don’t need a drink to have fun,” She said, shrugging. 

“Ah, yes,” he said, in a tone that was a touch too knowing. “You just enjoy being this tense, then?” 

She scoffed, refusing to rise to his bait. “I’m serious. I just don’t drink. No hidden meaning behind it.” 

He raised an eyebrow, that smirk widening. “Oh, really? So it has nothing to do with wanting to have a clear head to… I don’t know, say goodbye to me?” He looked so amused with himself, like he’d cracked some great mystery. 

Genevieve blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “What? I am not—”

“That’s so cute, Gen,” he teased leaning in slightly. “Didn’t know you were so sentimental.” 

She rolled her eyes, but a part of her wanted to laugh, despite herself. “Are you drunk? You’re seriously deluded if you think I’m here to see you off. I just needed to get a break from Ridoc calling you Captain Broody.” 

“I’m a Lieutenant—” he huffed “—and not drunk.” But he was clearly enjoying this too much. “So, you wouldn’t mind if I just left right now, without even a proper goodbye.” 

Her heart skipped a beat, but she quickly forced herself to look bored, tilting her head. “I could use a break from your dramatics.” 

Xaden chuckled, shaking his head. “Yes, of course. And I’m sure your friends would never let you live it down if they knew you’re here because of me.” 

Genevieve felt the heat in her cheeks rise again, and she scoffed. “You’re insufferable. They already are convinced I’m waiting for some grand farewell speech from you.” 

He grinned, stepping just a little closer. “Well, I could give you one, if that’s what you’re really hoping for.” 

“Not happening, not in front of all these people,” She said, shaking her head. “And for the record, you’d be lucky if I even consider saying goodbye.” 

Xaden’s eyes softened a bit as he glanced over her face, and he didn’t respond immediately. When he did, his voice was quieter. “So you don’t mind that I’m leaving tonight instead of tomorrow morning?” 

“What? Why?” She follows him into the commons, where he grabs his rucksack from beside the wall and slings it over his shoulders casually, as if there aren’t two swords hanging from the back of it. 

A group of cadets hover around the announcements board like the new leadership list is going to appear at any second and they might be erased from it if someone discovers they’re not watching. Yep, there’s Dain in the center of them. 

“You aren’t waiting for tomorrow morning to leave?” She asks him, keeping her voice low as they cross the stone floor of the expansive space. 

“They prefer wingleaders to vacate their rooms first, since the new guys like to move in quickly,” He glances at the crowd around the announcement board. “And since I’m guessing you’re not offering a place in your bed—”

“I’m very much sober and not making lapses in judgment tonight,” She assures him as he opens a door to the rotunda. “And I don’t sleep with people I don’t trust, so unless I get full disclosure…” She shrugs. 

“I’ll earn your trust as soon as you realize you don’t need full disclosure. You only have to have the guts to start asking the questions you actually want answers to. Don’t worry about the bed. We’ll get back there. The anticipation is good for us.” He smiles—really smiles, not a stupid grin or smirk—and Genevieve almost debates opening her bed to him just at the look of it.

“I’ve lived my whole life being lied to with half-truths, so I tell you we’re not together because you won’t give me complete honesty, and you counter with ‘it’s good for us’?” She scoffs, rolling her eyes while they walk down the stairs and past two of the marble pillars in the rotunda. “You’re so arrogant.” 

“Confidence is not arrogance. I don’t lose the fights I pick. And we’re both allowed to have boundaries. You’re not the only one who gets to see the rules in this relationship.” 

Fair point. 

“And you're picking a fight with me?” 

“Picking a fight for you. There’s a difference.” His expression hardens as his gaze jerks left, toward the approach of Colonel Aetos and a rider wearing the rank of major. 

“Hale. Riorson.” The colonel’s mouth quirks into a sarcastic smile. “So lovely to see you both tonight. Leaving for the Southern wing so soon? The front will be lucky to have such a capable rider.”

Genevieve’s chest tightens. Xaden is going to the front. Oh, Colonel Aetos was such a lucky bastard that there were witnesses in this common area, because otherwise he would be dead. 

“I’d say I’ll be back before you can miss me,” Xaden replies, his hands loose at his sides, “but word has it you pissed off General Sorrengail enough to be reassigned to a coastal outpost.” 

The colonel’s face blotches. “I might not be here, but you won’t be as often either. Only once every fortnight according to your new orders.” 

What. 

The major slides his hand into the breast pocket of his perfectly pressed dress uniform and pulls out two folded missives. His black hair is perfectly combed, his boots perfectly shined, his smile perfectly cruel. 

Genevieve watches as a flower blooms between the wooden floorboards. 

“Where are my manners?” Colonel Aetos says. “Hale, this is your new vice commandant, Major Varrish. He’s here to tighten the ship, as they say. We seem to have gotten a little lax with what we allow around here. Naturally the quadrant’s current executive commandant will still see to operations, but Varrish’s new position only answers to Panchek.” 

Alarm bells, ding-ding-ding danger! Come on, Genevieve! This man looks like he’s going to kill you! 

The look in Varrish’s eyes sent a shiver through her spine, as if he could see right through her every defense. Genevieve forced herself to stand taller, meeting his gaze with a steady stare. 

“How fortunate,” she replied, voice laced with a sarcasm she hoped covered her unease. “I can’t wait to see what exciting new policies he’ll be enforcing.” 

Varrish gave her a cold, humorless smile. “I’m sure we’ll become well acquainted, Cadet Hale. There are many areas you are in need of improvement… and consistency.” 

Xaden’s posture shifted, just enough for Genevieve to notice his shoulders tense, his jaw tightening. His fingers flexed slightly at his side, as if resisting the urge to reach for the hilt of his sword, before he takes both missives, careful not to touch Varrish’s hands, and gives Genevieve the one with her name scrawled on the front. They crack Melgren’s personal wax seals at the same moment, then unfold the official orders. 

Cadet Genevieve Hale is hereby given two days of leave once every fourteen days to be used only to fly with Tairn directly to and from Sgaeyl’s current duty station or location. Any other absence from classes will be considered a punishable offense. 

Genevieve grits her teeth to stop herself from giving the colonel the reaction he desperately wants, and slips the missive into the pocket at her hip. She guesses that Xaden has the same missive that she does, which means that rotating their leaves will leave them seeing each other once a week. 

Will leave Tairn and Sgaeyl seeing each other once a week. They’re never apart for more than three days. A week will leave them in a near-constant state of pain. It’s unfathomable. 

“Tairn?” 

He roars so loudly it rattles her brain. 

“Dragons give their own orders,” Xaden says calmly, pocketing his papers.

“Guess we’ll see.” Colonel Aetos nods, then turns to Genevieve. “I was worried about you after that earlier display, until I remembered something.” 

“And what is that?” Xaden asks, stepping forward as if almost to put himself between Genevieve and Aetos. 

“Secrets make for poor leverage. They die with the people who keep them.” 

What the fuck. 

“Good thing we aren’t keeping any secrets,” Xaden retorts. 

Aetos’s smile shifts to the softer one Genevieve can only imagine is reserved for his children and family, and the transformation is so eerie. “Do be careful with who you share your war stories with, Genevieve. We’d hate to have to lock you up again.”

What. The. Fuck. 

Aetos stares at her for a moment, making sure she gets his point, then turns and walks into commons without another word, Varrish following close behind. 

Genevieve’s hands shake as vines twist up her legs. 

“Come on, let’s go outside,” Xaden says softly, and she knows that he knows she’s probably about to cry. 

She follows him out, hands shaking and head pulsing in pain, each tremor holding tension as if the very air around her was tightening. The vines climbing her legs felt prickly as she walked, their tight hold echoing the sudden dread snaking through her chest, threatening to choke her. She swallowed, desperately to steady her breath, but each inhalation only fueled the panic blooming within her like those twisting vines. Aetos’s parting words echoed in her mind, a chill winding its way down her spine. 

“Lock you up again.” 

The words lashed at memories she’d tried so hard to bury, images of her captivity resurfacing unbidden—cold and damp walls, dark and suffocating spaces where her strength felt stripped away with each passing day. Her breaths quickened, shallow, and ragged, no longer capable of sustaining calm. She clenched her fists to stanch the trembling, yet the panic only dug deeper. The control she fought to maintain splintered, fraying faster than she could contain it. 

Xaden paused as they walked to the middle of the courtyard, sensing her spiraling. His gaze flickered to her tense face, worry clouding his eyes. “Gen?” he said, voice low, yet piercing enough to ground her. 

For a moment, she couldn’t speak. Her throat felt raw, tight, as if words were buried too deeply to pull out. She wanted to tell him she was fine, to force herself to smile and play off the moment as inconsequential. But she couldn’t. The fear clawed at her, relentless, and her mind seemed to spiral down the darkest paths. 

“Why are you going to the southern wing? Why are you going so far?” her voice was a low, panicked whisper, and he rested a hand on her arm, his thumb rubbing slow circles in an attempt to ground her. 

“There was no other choice by the time they handwrote our orders. I’ll be at Samara. I spent today packing and shipping most of my things.” 

Samara was so far away. Their dragons would barely have any time together after that long flight. She would barely have any time with him after a flight like that. 

“They’ll only have a few hours together every time they make the flight.” 

“Yeah, she’s pretty pissed.” 

“We’ll only have hours to…” She whispers, looking away, the awful dread and panic in her eyes putting a stone in his stomach. She’s terrified, this is the most scared he’s ever seen her. Not even in the face of venin did she look so petrified of a possibility. “You know, pass information.” 

“Pretty sure that’s precisely the idea. They’ll split us up for as long and as often as possible. We’ll just have to make the most of what time we get.” 

“Please don’t go,” the plea spills out before she could stop it. Her voice was so small, the words barely audible. She hated how they made her sound, weak, as though she was already that girl trapped all over again. But she couldn’t stop. “They’re going to trap me again. You can’t go.” 

She forced herself to meet his gaze, hoping he’d understand, though a part of her feared the vulnerability in her words would make him pull away. She was always strong, unbreakable, but she couldn’t hide from the fear she had about this potential situation. 

“Genevieve,” he murmured, his voice a low balm against the turmoil. “You know I can’t stay.” 

He reaches out, and she doesn’t retreat when he cradles the nape of her neck. 

Her eyes flashed around the courtyard full of drunk idiots, trying to assess whether or not they were watching her be this vulnerable. She couldn’t even be vulnerable around Liam—which hurt her now more than ever, because she wished she was—so how could she be vulnerable around strangers, drunk or not?

“Listen to me,” he lowers his voice and gently tugs her toward him, shooting a glance at a group of tipsy cadets watching nearby. “It’s alright, they’re barely lucid.” “Play along.” 

She nods. 

“I’ll be back in seven days,” he says, clearly for the benefit of the people passing by. “Sgaeyl and Tairn won’t be able to talk over the distance. They’ll be able to sense emotions, but that’s it. Remember that leadership will read any missive we send.” he leans down, holding her tightly. 

“A lot can happen in seven days.” She understands what he is saying in the rational part of her brain, but the emotional side of her just wants to be safe. With him. “What am I supposed to do while you’re gone?” 

“Nothing that matters will change,” he assures her for the benefit of onlookers. “Don’t involve yourself in anything Bodhi and the others are doing.” He has that look—the steely one he gets when he’s sure he’s right. 

“You really aren’t going to change, are you?” she whispers, chest tightening. 

“This isn’t about us. Every eye will be on you, and we don’t know if your relic offers you the same protection that mine does if you’re caught alone. Involving yourself endangers everything we’re working for. And we really don’t want to give them another reason to lock you up again.” Another group of cadets wanders closer, heading toward the rotunda. 

It’s hard to argue against that, she wants anything but being captive once more. There’s no doubt in her mind that if she’s held again, they won’t let her out. 

“I’m going to miss you.” His hand flexes on the back of her neck as a couple of riders from Third Wing get a little too close. “You can only fully trust those who were with us at Resson. And Bodhi’s going to be there for you to talk to. Violet as well.” 

“Think of all the spare time you’ll have without having to constantly train me on the mat.” She rests a hand on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heart underneath her fingertips, seeing the thread intertwined with his life. She blames her incessant fear for the future for the lapse of judgment, but it really makes her feel better. 

“I’d much rather have you under me on the mat than spare time.” His arm wraps around her waist, tugging her in closer. “When it comes to the other marked ones, don’t risk trusting them. Not yet. They know they can’t hurt you, but that doesn’t mean they won't try to get back at Violet.” 

“Back to that, are we?” She tries to lift a small smile, but the sheen of tears in her eyes betrays her. 

“Never left that,” he reminds her, keeping his voice low even though the others in the courtyard are now giving them more than enough privacy. “Keep yourself alive and safe, and I’ll see you in seven days.” His hand slides to the side of her neck, and his mouth to only a breath above hers. “We managed to keep each other alive today. Trust me yet?” 

Her heart jolts. She wants nothing more than to kiss him, but not now, not here, not in front of everyone. 

“With my life,” She whispers. 

“That’s all?” His mouth hovers above hers, all promise and no delivery. 

“That’s all.” 

“Too bad,” he whispers, lifting his head. “But like I said, anticipation is a good thing.” 

They stood there for a heartbeat, lingering in the closeness, aware that this is their last moment of normalcy before he leaves and she stays. Genevieve felt his warmth seep into her, a small comfort in the midst of all the fear and uncertainty clawing at her. 

Xaden’s hand slipped down her arm, and she felt his fingers brush hers, a soft touch that grounded her, reminding her to stay strong, even if her heart ached with every beat. She wanted to hold onto him, to find a reason to make him stay, to change the inevitable. 

“Gen…” his voice was a low murmur, and the way he said her name sent a shiver down her spine. “No matter how far they send me, how many days pass… I’ve never left you. You know that, right?” 

She nodded, biting her lip to stop the wave of emotion that threatened to spill over. She wasn’t sure if he was reassuring her or himself, but it didn’t matter. The world felt as if it were slipping away, and all she could cling to was this moment. 

“Seven days,” he reminded her. “Just seven.” 

A small, shaky breath escaped her. “I’ll hold you to that.” 

He finally let her go, fingers lingering as they parted. She watched him step back, the distance between them feeling like miles already. Xaden’s gaze never wavered, and she felt the promise in his eyes, a silent vow that he would come back, that he wouldn’t let them pull him too far away. 

“Take care of yourself,” he said softly, almost a whisper. “And try not to give Aetos or Varrish any reason to doubt you.” 

“You too,” she managed to reply, though her voice felt raw.

“See you in seven days, Genevieve.” He backs away, moving toward the tunnel that leads to the flight field. “Try not to flip the world upside down while I’m gone.” 

She just stands there for another couple of minutes after he leaves, breathing deeply, trying to reign in this deep sense of dread. Feeling the chill of the evening settle around her, she hugs herself, trying to hold onto the warmth of his presence, even as it faded with each step he took. 

“He’ll be back,” Rhiannon says, coming up behind her, holding a missive of her own, excitement shining in her eyes despite the somber tone of her words. 

“I don’t care,” She shrugs, eyes cast downwards as she clearly plays her own emotions down. “What has you fighting a smile?” 

“Did something happen between you two?” She moves the letter to her pocket.

“What’s the letter?” Genevieve presses, because no matter how much she loves Rhiannon, she will not be airing her dirty laundry. “Did you get orders?” Orders mean one thing, so Genevieve grabs her shoulders and shakes her. “Did you?” 

She grimaces. “I have good news and bad news.” 

“Bad news first.” Always bad news first. 

“Aetos is our new wingleader.” 

“Great,” her face falls. “No surprise. What’s the good news?” 

“Cianna, our executive officer, moved up to executive officer of the section,” her smile is brighter than any mage light. “And you’re looking at our new squad leader!”

“Yes!” Geneveive exclaims, giving her a hug. “That’s amazing! You’re amazing!”

“Are we celebrating?” Sawyer asks loudly from the edge of the courtyard. 

“Abso-fucking-lutely!” Ridoc shouts, ale sloshing over the sides of his mug as he and Violet rush over to them. “Squad Leader Matthias!”

Violet shoves a glass of lavender lemonade into Genevieve’s hand, as they arrive. 

“What’s your first order, squad leader?” Sawyer asks, as Nadine races to catch up to his long strides. 

Rhiannon glances over each of them and nods as though coming to a decision. “Live.” 

The words hang in the air for a moment, and for the briefest second, Genevieve feels the weight of everything pressing down on her, all the secrets, all the fear. Then, the tension in her chest starts to loosen as she sees the smiles of her friends, their eyes bright and full of anticipation. The weight on her shoulders lifts, if only for a moment, as Rhiannon raises her glass and grins. 

“To life,” Rhiannon continues, her voice full of strength, “and to making sure we don’t let it slip through our fingers.” 

Genevieve blinks, her heart suddenly thudding in her chest. Her friends are here. They’re with her. For once, there’s no threat, no immediate danger, just the warmth of the people she loves and trusts around her. 

She stares at the glass of lavender lemonade in her hand. It’s sweet, a little tart, and it smells like spring and strong alcohol. 

Genevieve looks around the circle, meeting each of their eyes—Sawyer with his sly grin, Ridoc with his carefree laughter, Nadine and Violet standing close together, their faces lit by the lamplights, Rhiannon’s pride in her eyes as she watches the squad gather. 

“You’ve earned it,” Rhiannon says softly, raising her own glass. 

Genevieve smiles—a real smile this time, a small, genuine curve of her lips. It’s not much, but it feels like everything. “To life,” she murmurs, echoing Rhiannon’s sentiment, and for the first time in days, there’s peace around her. 

“To life!” Sawyer and Ridoc cheer, and the six glasses of the group clink together in cheers before Genevieve takes a long sip from her glass. 

Tonight, she would smile, and let herself be happy. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hey guys! What’s up? I’m sorry this is a day late, I was absolutely dead yesterday, I had like seventeen assignments due on Monday and four tests on Tuesday and then I got 3 hours of sleep into Wednesday, I legitimately thought i was going to die. I also have a condition where im just constantly nauseous and yesterday was rough 😭

Anyways, I’m back and better than ever just in time to spend all day today baking for thanksgiving! I did want to say that I’m really thankful for you all for reading this, i absolutly adore each and every one of you and all the love you give me. Thank you for reading the wounded healer and the tragic hero, you all mean the world to me.

As always, let me know if you enjoyed, and if you did, please leave a like, comment, or kudo, and I’ll be back Saturday (i swear) with chapter 4!

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Taglist: @awkardnerd , @hannraumari , @minjix , @glaciuswduo , @wolfbc97 , @heeseungthel0ml

[shipmistress9]

"I don't want to think."

Fandom: Fourth Wing -- The Empyrean

Pairing: Xaden/Violet

Rating: Explicit

Summary: In the days after the events of Fourth Wing, Xaden suffers an intense kind of longing he never knew before as Violet refuses to talk to him. But as it seems, she can't stay away from him forever, either.

. o O o .

With slow steps, I make my way up the path that leads to my father’s townhouse. My house. I still hate that thought…

My feet are heavy, my thoughts sluggish. It’s been a rough day, but then, every day has been rough since we fought the Venin at Athebyne and arrived here in Aretia six days ago. I never want to sit by Violet’s sickbed and pray for her survival again, but… I can’t say things got that much better since then.

There’s an ache in my chest, a tightness that keeps me from breathing properly. A tingling in my limbs, slightly painful, that makes me clumsy. A dark cloud in my head that makes thinking and planning and just downright functioning all but impossible. When Bodhi asked me whether I was feeling alright and told me to go and see the healers, I half-heartedly appeased him and said I would, but… I know they can’t help me. Because I know this feeling.

I felt it once before, but even though it was only a second-hand experiance channeled from Sgaeyl that time, it was already enough to convince me to leave Basgiath and fly straight to Monserrat without regards to my orders.

This now is so much worse.

“I’m sure she’ll come around.” Sgaeyl’s voice in my head is unusually gentle. She knows my suffering, after all.

I manage the ghost of a smile. “If only I could belive that.”

“Just give her space.” This time, it’s Tairn. “She needs time to sort out her feelings.”

I nod, knowing the dragons will feel the gesture. But I don’t really share their optimism. Violet hasn’t talked to me since that first time right after she woke up, and I…

I’m losing my fucking mind!

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[xsilverxone]

@oakthcrn liked x for a starter

The events that took place at Athebyne, once a blur, had come hurtling back at her at breakneck speed. Her slumber, forced upon her by the poisoned dagger, had left her memories temporarily disheveled. She’d forgotten the look of horror on Soleil’s face only a second before the desiccation, her body and Fuil’s withering to little more than rotted roots and ash. The cry of heartbreak that had erupted from Liam’s lips followed by the wide eyed anguish in his gaze had been blotted from memory. The way his perfectly healthy body had stumbled before collapsing to the ground, weakened by the loss of Deigh.

The way she’d held him in her arms as he took his last dying breath, his final words seeking to assure her even in his death — their friendship had been his honor. 

It all came back with a pain that was too much to bear — the wyvern, the venin, the death, and Xaden’s lies — it all haunted Violet. The distended veins that branched from the venin’s red eyes, sparkling with glee at the sight of the poison-tipped dagger now protruding from Violet’s side. The death marring the student’s features as she falls from Tairn’s back, careening towards the ground with a runed dagger nestled between her ribs. 

The last glimpse of Xaden’s perfectly chiseled and lethal beauty as she succumbs to gravity and free falls to the barren land below. 

When she’d awoken in Aretia, she’d been forced to remember all the agony and heartache that they’d all experienced at the post during War Games. Despite being angry with Xaden, she’d allowed him enough time to inform her Lark had been one of the squad mates that stood guard at her door while she recovered. She needed to find the fire wielder. 

When she finally laid eyes on the woman with hair of glowing ember, she’d acted on instinct — overcome with emotion as she’d launched herself at her companion, embracing her in a hug without even asking for permission. “Lark! You are alright! You made it through Athebyne!”