FOREWORD

The following text has been faithfully transcribed from Navarrian into the modern language by Jesinia Neilwart, Curator of the Scribe Quadrant at Basgiath War College. All events are true, and names have been preserved to honor the courage of those fallen. May their souls be commended to Malek.

A dragon without its rider is a tragedy. A rider without their dragon is dead.

—Article One, Section One; The Dragon Rider's Codex

Conscription Day was always the deadliest.

But it was also the day I had been looking forward to the most for the past twenty years. I had been training for this ever since I was born.

The weight of my lightweight canvas rucksack against my back irritated the wound that had not been allowed to heal in months. As my mind focused on it, the pain increased until my body practically cried out for me to put the pack down.

My face remained blank and I stood still, not allowing even the slightest reaction.

How could I show any sign of weakness in front of a man who would take advantage of any minuscule slight?

I kept my eyes slightly lower than his face, focused on a small piece of dirt on the window. If he noticed that...

His eyes examined me, noting everything - the way I held myself, how my chin was lowered, my hand tightening on the straps of my pack.

I didn't look him in the eyes. I had been doing this long enough to know how to dance on the edge of his precarious temper so as to not set him off.

"You will not fail." General Melgren finally spoke, his gruff voice cutting through the silence like a knife.

How could I fail when I had been trained by the greatest rider in the whole of Basgaith?

How dare I fail?

I looked up into his icy blue eyes - a mirror to my own - and lowered my gaze back down. "Yes, General."

He was always General. Even to his own daughter.

"You will look after the youngest Sorrengail. You will not let Violet fail."

He said it as though I solely decided whether my best friend died or not. I didn't need him to order me to protect her - I would have done so anyway. His concern for Violet as though she was the daughter he never had, as though I was the daughter he had been cursed with, still stung, even after all these years.

"Yes."

So fast, I didn't even see it coming, he struck me. My head whipped to the side, my left cheek aching with the lashing pain.

I should have seen it coming. It was an obvious mistake, one I had made only a handful of times.

His hand was still clenched into a fist when he lowered it to his side. When he spoke again, his voice was cold and calculating, a clear warning. "Yes, what?"

"Yes, General."

I didn't dare raise my hand to feel the damage on my cheek. That would only have made things worse. I'd gotten so well at concealing the pain from everything he did, that my eyes had barely watered.

"You will not disgrace our family."

"Yes, General."

"You will not embarrass me."

"Yes, General."

Voices rose from beyond the closed door. The General looked towards the dark oak walls, as though he could look past it, to the room where three women argued. Mira's voice was almost perfectly clear, even through the thick walls.

The General shook his head. "Violet doesn't deserve this. I tried to convince Lilith but she was set on her being a Rider."

I wanted to yell at him that neither did I. But I still had the wounds from the last time I argued with him.

At least he cared about someone enough to inconvenience himself for her benefit.

Violet's mother, General Sorrengail, didn't care that her daughter's illness had left her as brittle as glass nor the fact that she had been training to be a Scribe all her life.

She was sending her daughter with just shy of six months of training to an arena where she had to fight with those like me, who had practically come out of the womb ready for battle.

My future had been set by the General the second before I was born. And since my mother had died at the same moment, there was no one left to argue for what I wanted on my behalf.

I would still have joined the Rider's Quadrant, though. You were allowed to move out of your parents' house at just twenty whereas in all other Quadrants, you lived with them until you passed training at twenty-three.

The absolute isolation from my father for the most part of the first year was my primary factor. Not to mention getting a dragon. I had always adored the creatures. They were majestic and beautiful with all the power I could imagine.

The General looked at me again, as though he had forgotten that I was still there. "You're dismissed."

I walked out of the office and looked behind me once, when I was at the doorway, at my father.

His buzz-shaved brown hair was fading to grey with his forehead wrinkled with age and his navy suit adorned with countless medals and pins that I doubt he took off even in his sleep.

I would be glad if I never had to see him again.

I closed the door behind me and jumped about three feet in the air when General Sorrengail's door was hurled open and nearly flew off its hinges.

Mira Sorrengail exited the room and I could practically see the tornado brewing in her thoughts. Violet was not behind her, and I saw a flash of her brown hair as the door closed, the silver tips the main telltale sign it was her.

My own hair was cropped short like Mira's into the standard Rider's length. I had wanted to leave it long, and just braid it into a coronet when I needed to, but my father did not agree. Its flaming red hue was enough of a blaring sign of my identity and he would not have me skirting customs just so they could reflect badly onto him and the way he raised me.

I strolled next to Mira, easily keeping pace with her hurried steps.

"I take it that she didn't budge."

"Not at all!" Mira puffed. "It's like she doesn't realize that she's practically sentencing Violet to death!" More likely that she didn't care.

We both halted, at the same time, waiting for Violet.

"Oh, before I forget." Mira reached into one of the pockets of her breeches and pulled out a small white tub. "I got your burn cream."

I relaxed in relief. I needed the ointment to heal my back and now it would finally be left alone, it would be able to heal in peace. "Thank you. I swear I'll pay you back." I wasn't sure how exactly I would, considering it wasn't as though the General gave me any money.

She waved her hand in the air, shaking her head, "Absolutely not. I won't hear any of it."

I opened my mouth to argue but got cut off by Violet walking out.

General Sorrengail looked at her daughter as she left, and a smile grew on her face when her eyes met mine. "Good luck, Isla!" She yelled out just as the door closed.

"She's bat-shit crazy."

Violet's eyes darted to the guards lining the hallway and then back to us. "They'll tell her you said that."

"It's not as if they don't know," I responded, rolling my eyes half-heartedly.

"Let's go. We only have an hour before all candidates have to report, and I saw thousands waiting outside

the gates when I flew over." Mira started walking, leading us down the stone staircase and through the hallways to Violet's room.

I applied the cream all over my back, almost moaning at the deliciously cool feeling of it against my burns.

When I finished, I opened the bathroom door to see Violet and Mira surrounded by all the items in the youngest Sorrengail's rucksack. Most of them were absolutely unnecessary.

Mira eyed my boots and nodded in approval, "Rubber-bottomed rider boots. Good."

My father may have been a tyrant, but he was no fool. He wanted me to have every advantage that could put me ahead of the class to allow me to triumph over all the other candidates.

Meaning, rubber-bottomed rider boots, tight, flexible clothing that wouldn't be a liability, and a multitude of weapons strapped on every inch of my body.

"What's this for?" Mira held up one of Violet's books from the 'keep' pile.

"Killing people," I replied, winking at her.

"Surprised you could read well enough to understand it," Mira quipped, and I gasped in outrage, tossing the closest object to me - a plush pillow - at her, ignoring the red-hot embarrassment at the base of my neck.

I placed the book and some other of her things in my bag. Violet was tiny, and she wouldn't have been able to carry a heavy bag onto the parapet and survive. The extra weight was only an inconvenience for me, but it would have been the difference between life and death for her.

A bell rang high above. Forty-five minutes.

Mira held out two black uniforms. "Change into this. I had it made for you."

"Both of us?"

Mira rolled her eyes and leaned over to flick my head. "Of course, you're my sister as much as she is. Now hurry up and change before I shove it over your head."

I had practically grown up with the Sorrengails. The General was often busy and worked late, so I stayed most nights in their spare room. Her dad was the one who made me meals and brushed my hair when I was too young to do so myself.

Violet changed in the corner of the room and I used the bathroom while Mira sorted out the rest of her bag and reorganized everything.

"This is like the gear the riders wear to battle," Violet observed.

Gods, I couldn't believe this was really happening.

"Exactly, because that's what you're doing. Going to battle." Mira corrected, a dark edge entering her voice.

The combination of leather and fabric covered me from my collarbone to just below my waist, wrapping over my chest and crossing up and over my shoulders. Hidden sheaths were sewn into the ribcage, in addition to the multitude of others strapped all over my body from head to toe.

I grabbed the two daggers that weren't already attached to my body from my pack and sheathed them, one on my arm and the other on my waist.

"What is it made of?" I tested the material just above my heart, scratching it with my fingernail.

"Something I designed," Mira explained, fastening Violet's braid with sharpened pins that could be used as weapons. "I had it specially made for you with Teine's scales sewn in, so be careful with it."

"Dragon scales?" Violet jerked her head back to look at her. "How? Teine is huge."

"I happen to know a rider whose powers can make big things very small." A devious smile played across her lips. "And smaller things much, much bigger."

I snickered and winked at Mira.

She laughed, then tugged on Violet's braid. "Head forward. You should have cut your hair like Isla." She pulled the strands tight against her head and resumed weaving. "It's a liability in sparring and in battle, not to mention being a giant target. No one else has hair that fades out to silver like this and barely any have it as bright a red as Isla's and they'll already be aiming for you both."

"You know very well the natural pigment seems to gradually abandon it no matter the length. Besides, other than everyone else's concern for the shade, my hair is the only thing about me that's perfectly healthy. Cutting it would feel like I'm punishing my body for finally doing something well, and it's not like I feel the need to hide who I am."

We were all silent and then Mira moved on to summarize years of knowledge into fifteen harried minutes, barely pausing to breathe. "Be observant, both of you. Quiet is fine, but make sure you notice everything and everyone around you to your advantage. You've both read the Codex?"

"A few times." Violet had it memorized but every time I tried to, the words swam off the page and I could barely understand anything.

We were complete opposites, she was smart and I was strong.

"Good. Then you know that the other riders can kill you at any time, and the cutthroat cadets will try. Fewer cadets mean better odds at Threshing. There are never enough dragons willing to bond, and anyone reckless enough to get themselves killed isn't worthy of a dragon anyway."

"Except when sleeping." Violet continued, "It's an executable offense to attack any cadet while sleeping. Article Three-"

"Yes, but that doesn't mean you're safe at night. Both of you should sleep in this if you can." She tapped the chest of Violet's leather and looked pointedly at mine.

Violet skimmed her hands over the leather of her clothes, "Rider's black is supposed to be earned. You sure I can't wear my tunic today?"

"The wind on the parapet will catch any spare cloth like a sail." She handed Violet back her rucksack. "The tighter your clothes, the better off you are up there, and in the ring once you start sparring. Wear the armor at all times. Keep your daggers on you at all times."

"Someone's going to say we didn't earn them," Violet argued.

"Then fuck them," I reply. "We're trying to survive, just like everyone else will be. It would be ridiculous to get all pissy with us because of our clothes."

"Isla's right." Mira nodded determinedly. "You're a Sorrengail and a Meglren. Fuck what they say."

Violet continued, "And you don't think dragon scales are cheating?"

"There's no such thing as cheating once you climb the turret. There's only survival and death."

The bell chimed - only thirty minutes left.

Mira swallowed. "It's almost time. Ready?"

"No," Violet answered.

"Neither am I." I grinned at her.

"I wasn't either." A wry smile lifted a corner of Mira's mouth. "And I'd spent my life training for it." She cast another glance at me.

"I'm not going to die today," Violet said absently, as though it was a mantra, and if she said it enough times, it would come true. She slung her pack over her shoulders and shuffled slightly, getting a feel for the new weight. Her body was significantly less tense now.

The halls of the central part of the fortress were eerily silent as we wound our way down through various staircases. Though, the noise from outside grew louder the lower we descended. The sound pounded against me with each defining step we took, sealing our fate as we grew closer to the next three years of our lives.

Through the windows, my eyes latched onto thousands of candidates hugging their loved ones and saying their goodbyes on the grassy fields just beneath the main gate. From what I'd witnessed in the past, most families held onto candidates right up to the very last bell.

The four roads leading to the fortress were clogged with horses and wagons, especially where they converged in front of the college but it was the empty ones at the edge of the field that made my heart drop.

They were for the bodies.

I tried not to let myself dwell on the fact, blocking it from my mind in the hopes I wouldn't think of Violet or me in one.

Right before we round the last corner that will lead to the courtyard, Mira stopped.

"What is - oof." Violet's words died away as Mira tugged her younger sister to her chest with fervor, hugging her in the relative privacy of the corridor. The two sisters stayed that way for a moment, basking in each other's company and savoring the last moment they had together.

Mira looked up and brought up a hand as she urgently motioned me over. "Come here."

Violet moved back as I walked into Mira's tight grip. Her mouth moved down, towards my ear. "If it's between you and Violet, choose yourself."

"What?"

"Choose yourself. Your life is just as important as hers. Okay?"

I nodded, swallowing back against the stark burning in the back of my throat. Even my own father would have rather I died than Violet.

The woman in question joined the hug and Mira squeezed us.

"Remember everything I've told you. Don't become another name on the death roll." Her voice shook, and we both hugged her tighter.

"We'll be alright," Violet promised. "And we'll look out for each other."

Mira nodded, her chin bumping against the space between our heads. "I know. Let's go."

That was all she said before pulling away and walking into the crowded courtyard just inside the main gate to the fortress.

Instructors, commanders, and even General Sorrengail and the General were there gathered informally, waiting for the madness outside the walls to enter within. Out of all the doors in the war college, the main gate was probably the only one no cadet would enter today, granted each Quadrant had its own entrance and facilities.

"Find Dain Aetos," Mira told us as we crossed through the courtyard, heading for the open gate.

"Dain?" Violet smiled at his name. She had had the biggest crush on him since practically forever. The woman had been infatuated with Dain since we were young, and I wasn't sure if she would or even could ever get over her obsession with the man.

I couldn't even tease her about it, because any time I did, she would bring up my infinitely-times-more-embarrassing crush on her older brother, Brennan, who had died a few years prior. I had liked him nearly a decade ago, although, that hadn't stopped her nor Mira from bringing him up at every possible chance.

"I've only been out of the quadrant for three years, but from what I hear, he's doing well, and he'll keep you safe. Don't smile like that," Mira chided Violet. "He'll be a second-year." She shook her finger at me. "Don't mess around with the second-years. If you want to get laid, and you should-" she lifted her brows "-often, considering you never know what the day brings, then screw around in your own year. Nothing is worse than cadets gossiping that you've slept your way to safety."

"So I'm free to take any of the first-years I want to bed," I confirmed with a little grin. "Just not the second or third years."

"Exactly." She winked.

"Well, then, come on." I linked elbows with her, my hand clasping Violet's as we crossed through the gates, leaving the fortress, and joining the organized chaos beyond. "You can both tell me which ones are attractive enough for me to bed."

Each of Navarre's six provinces had sent this year's share of candidates for military service. Some volunteered. Some were sentenced as punishment.

Most were conscripted. The only thing we had in common here at Basgiath was that we passed the entrance exam - an agility test I excelled at as well as a written one I barely passed - which meant at least we wouldn't end up as fodder for the infantry on the front line.

The atmosphere was tense with anticipation as Mira led us along the worn cobblestone path toward the southern turret. The main college was built into the side of Basgiath Mountain as if it were cleaved from a ridgeline of the peak itself. The sprawling, formidable structure towered over the crowd of anxious, waiting candidates and their tearful families, with its stories-tall stone battlements - built to protect the high rise of the keep within - and defensive turrets at each of its corners, one of which housed the bells.

The majority of the crowd moved to line up at the base of the northern turret - the entrance to the Infantry Quadrant. Some of the mass headed toward the gate behind us - the Healer Quadrant that consumed the southern end of the college.

Violet's hand clenched my own and I followed her gaze and spotted a few taking the central tunnel into the Archives below the fortress to join the Scribe Quadrant. She was supposed to be a Scribe - and had been training for it - until her mother chose otherwise.

The entrance to the Riders Quadrant was nothing more than a fortified door at the base of the tower, just like the infantry entrance to the north. But while the infantry candidates could walk straight into their ground-level quadrant, we rider candidates climbed.

The three of us joined the riders' line, waiting to sign in, when I glanced up.

High above us, crossing the river-bottomed valley that divided the main college from the even higher, looming citadel of the Riders Quadrant on the southern ridgeline, was the parapet, the stone bridge that was about to separate rider candidates from the cadets over the next few hours.

I couldn't believe I was about to cross that thing. I was so excited.

"And to think, I've been preparing for the scribe's written exam all these years." Violet's voice dripped with sarcasm. "I should have been playing on a balance beam."

I elbowed her. I had spent my childhood playing on a balance beam.

Mira ignored us as the line moved forward and candidates disappeared through the door. "Don't let the wind sway your steps."

Two candidates were ahead of us and a woman sobbed as her partner ripped her away from a young man, the couple breaking from the line, retreating in tears down the hillside toward the crowd of loved ones lining the roads. There were no other parents ahead of us, only a few dozen candidates moving toward the roll-keepers.

"Keep your eyes on the stones ahead of you and don't look down," Mira said, the lines of her face tightening. "Arms out for balance. If the pack slips, drop it. Better it falls than you."

I looked behind us, where it seemed hundreds had filed in within the span of minutes.

"Maybe we should let them go first," Violet whispered.

"No," Mira answered, "The longer you wait on those steps-" she motioned toward the tower "-the greater your fear has a chance to grow. Cross the parapet before the terror owns you."

The line moved, and the bell chimed again. It was eight o'clock.

The crowd of thousands behind us had separated fully into their chosen quadrants, all lined up to sign the roll and begin their service.

"Focus," Mira snapped, and I whipped my head forward. "This might sound harsh, but don't seek friendships in there. Forge alliances."

There were only two ahead of us now - a woman with a full pack, whose high cheekbones and oval face reminded me of renderings of Amari, the queen of the gods. Her dark brown hair was worn in several rows of short braids that just touched the equally dark skin of her neck. The second was the muscular blond man with the woman crying over him. He was carrying an even bigger rucksack.

I looked around the pair toward the roll-keeping desk, and my eyes widened.

"Is he...?" I whispered.

Mira glanced and muttered a curse. "A separatist's kid? Yep. See that shimmering mark that starts on the top of his wrist? It's a relic from the rebellion."

The main ones were when a dragon used magic to mark the skin of their bonded rider. But those relics were a symbol of honor and power and generally in the shape of the dragon who gifted them.

These marks were swirls and slashes on his wrist, similar but different at the same time, to the ones on my back. More a warning than punishment.

"A dragon did that?" Violet whispered.

Mira nodded, looking at me. "Mom says your dad's dragon did it to all of them when he executed their parents, but she wasn't exactly open to further discussion on the topic. Nothing like punishing the kids to deter more parents from committing treason."

I couldn't believe that my father did that.

But actually, I could.

"Most of the marked kids who carry rebellion relics are from Tyrrendor, of course, but there are a few whose parents turned traitor from the other provinces-" The blood drained from her face, and she gripped the straps of both of our packs, turning us to face her. "I just remembered." Her voice dropped, and I leaned in, my heart jumping at the urgency in her tone. "Stay the hell away from Xaden Riorson."

Who?

"That Xaden Riorson," she confirmed at Violet's look, fear lacing her gaze. "He's a third year, and he will kill you both the second he finds out who you are."

"His father was the Great Betrayer. He led the rebellion," Violet said quietly. I absolutely did not remember who Xaden was. But I knew his father. He killed Brennan.

"What is Xaden doing here?"

"All the children of the leaders were conscripted as punishment for their parents' crimes," Mira whispered as we shuffled sideways, moving with the line. "Mom told me they never expected Riorson to make it past the parapet. Then they figured a cadet would kill him, but once his dragon chose him..." She shook her head. "Well, there's nothing much that can be done then. He's risen to the rank of wingleader."

"That's bullshit," Violet seethed.

"He's sworn allegiance to Navarre, but I don't think that will stop him where you're both concerned. Once you get across the parapet - because you will make it across - find Dain. He'll put you in his squad, and we'll just hope it's far from Riorson." She gripped my straps tighter as though trying to ingrain the warning into me. She knew me well. "Stay. Away. From. Him."

"Noted." I nodded.

"Next," a voice called from behind the wooden table that bore the rolls of the Riders Quadrant. "Violet Sorrengail?"

She nodded, picking up the quill and signing her name on the next empty line on the roll. I moved forward and signed mine after.

"But I thought you were meant for the Scribe Quadrant," The man said softly.

"General Sorrengail chose otherwise," Mira supplied.

"Pity. You had so much promise."

"By the gods," the rider next to the Captain said. "You're Mira Sorrengail?" His jaw dropped, and I could practically smell his hero worship from here.

"I am." She nodded. "This is my sister, Violet, and our friend, Isla Melgren. They'll be first-years."

"If the twig survives the parapet." Someone behind me snickered. "Wind just might blow her right off."

My right hand curled into a fist but Mira grabbed at it, her expression warning me to not make any enemies before I've even started.

"You fought at Strythmore," the rider behind the desk said with awe looking at the older Sorrengail. "They gave you the Order of the Talon for taking out that battery behind enemy lines."

The snickering stopped.

"As I was saying." Mira put a hand behind me. "This is my sister, Violet, and Isla Melgren."

"You know the way." The Captain nodded and pointed to the open door into the turret. It looked ominously dark in there, and I failed to hide the look on my face.

"I know the way," she assured him, leading us past the table so the snickering asshole behind me could sign the roll.

We paused at the doorway and turned toward each other.

"Don't die, Violet. I'd hate to be an only child." She grinned and looked at me, "Try not to kill everyone too soon. I want a show." She walked away, sauntering past the line of gawking candidates as word spread of exactly who she was and what she had done.

"Tough to live up to that," the woman ahead of me said from just inside the tower.

"It is," Violet agreed, gripping the straps of her rucksack and heading into the darkness.

My eyes adjusted quickly to the dim light coming in through the equidistant windows along the curved staircase.

"Sorrengail and Melgren as in-" The woman asked, looking over her shoulder as we began to climb the hundreds of stairs that lead to our possible deaths.

"Yep." There was no railing, so I kept my hand on the stone wall as we rose higher and higher.

"The Generals?" The blond guy ahead of us confirmed.

"The same ones," Violet answered, offering him a quick smile.

"Wow. Nice leathers, too." He smiled back, eyeing both of us.

"Thanks. They're courtesy of my sister."

"I wonder how many candidates have fallen off the edge of the steps and died before they even reach the parapet," The woman said, glancing down the center of the staircase as we climbed higher.

"Two last year." Violet tilted her head when she glanced back. "Well, three if you count the girl one of the guys landed on."

"Freaky," I muttered.

The woman's brown eyes flared, but she turned back around and kept climbing. "How many steps are there?"

"Two hundred and fifty," Violet answered, and we climbed in silence for another five minutes.

"Not too bad," She said with a bright smile as we neared the top and the line came to a halt. "I'm Rhiannon Matthias, by the way."

"Dylan," the blond guy responded with an enthusiastic wave.

"Violet."

"Isla." I gave them a tense smile of my own.

"I feel like I've been waiting my entire life for this day." Dylan shifted his pack on his back. "Can you believe we actually get to do this? It's a dream come true."

I grinned at that. "It still feels like I'm dreaming. I'm so excited I can hardly keep still. See?" I lifted my shaking hand up.

"I can't fucking wait." Rhiannon's smile widened. "I mean, who wouldn't want to ride a dragon?"

"Do your parents approve?" Dylan asked. "Because my mom's been begging me to change my mind for months. I keep telling her that I'll have better chances for advancement as a rider, but she wanted me to enter the Healer Quadrant."

"Mine always knew I wanted this, so they've been pretty supportive. Besides, they have my twin to dote on. Raegan's already living her dream, married and expecting a baby." Rhiannon glanced back at us. "What about you both? Let me guess. With your last names, I bet you were the first to volunteer this year."

I nodded, "I feel like I'm about to combust."

"I was more like volun-told." Violet's answer was far less enthusiastic.

"Gotcha."

"And riders do get way better perks than other officers," She said to Dylan as the line moved upward again. The candidate behind us caught up, sweating and red, and I hid a smirk. Look who wasn't snickering now.

"Better pay, more leniency with the uniform policy," She continued.

"Don't forget your own dragon," I added. "And the right to become a supreme badass."

"Pretty sure they issue you an ego with your flight leathers."

"Plus, I've heard that riders are allowed to marry sooner than the other quadrants," Dylan added.

"True. Right after graduation." If we survived. "I think it has something to do with wanting to continue bloodlines." Most successful riders were legacies.

"Or because we tend to die sooner than the other quadrants," Rhiannon mused.

"I'm not dying," Dylan said as he tugged a necklace from under his tunic to reveal a ring dangling from the chain. "She said it would be bad luck to propose before I left, so we're waiting until graduation." He kissed the ring and tucked the chain back under his collar. "The next three years are going to be long ones, but they'll be worth it."

"You might make it across the parapet," the guy behind us sneered. "This one here is a breeze away from the bottom of the ravine." I rolled my eyes.

"Shut up and focus on yourself," Rhiannon snapped, her feet clicking against the stone as we climbed.

The top came into sight, the doorway full of muddled light. Mira was right. Those clouds were going to wreak havoc on us, and we had to be on the other side of the parapet before they did. Another step, another tap of Rhiannon's feet.

"Let me see your boots," Violet whispered. I turned immediately as she continued, facing Rhiannon. "It will hurt like hell, but I want you to take my left boot. Trade with me."

I shook my head at her. I may have liked the woman just fine but I sure as hell wouldn't risk my life for someone I met five minutes ago. Violet ignored me.

"I'm sorry?"

"These are rider boots. They'll grip the stone better. Your toes will be scrunched and generally miserable, but at least you'll have a shot at not falling off if that rain hits."

Rhiannon glanced toward the open door - and the darkening sky - then back to her. "You're willing to trade a boot?"

"Just until we get on the other side."

Oh, hell no.

I exhaled through my nose. My job of keeping Violet alive just got harder. I looked through the open door. Three candidates were already walking across the parapet, their arms stretched out wide.

"I'll switch with you." I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth but I couldn't exactly take them back.

"You'd do that?" Violet raised her brow in disbelief.

"Don't be daft, Violet. If you do it, you'll get yourself killed. I've had significant more training than you and my shoe size is closer to hers than yours." I turned to Rhiannon. "But we have to be quick. It's almost our turn."

She pursed her lips in debate for a second, then agreed, and we swapped left boots.

The wind whipped at my skin as I stepped onto the platform, the midsummer morning thick with humidity. The top of the turret was bare, the crenelations of stone rising and falling along the circular structure at the height of my chest and doing nothing to obscure the view. The ravine and its river below suddenly felt very, very far.

I was not an idiot. The chances of dying here were high - I knew that - but they weren't that high for me. I had just enough fear for adrenaline to begin coursing its way through my bloodstream.

How many wagons did they have waiting down there? Five? Six? Violet had repeated the stats enough times. The parapet claimed roughly fifteen percent of the rider candidates. Every trial in the quadrant - including this one - was designed to test a cadet's ability to ride. If someone couldn't manage to walk the winding length of the slim stone bridge, then they sure as hell couldn't keep their balance and fight on the back of a dragon.

The main trick for me was to calm down. When I practiced, every time I panicked, I ended up falling.

I breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth as I walked the edge behind Rhiannon and Dylan. Violet goes behind me so that she could copy the way I moved.

Three riders waited at the entrance, which was nothing more than a gaping hole in the wall of the turret. One with ripped-off sleeves recorded names as candidates stepped out onto the treacherous crossing. Another, who had shaved all his hair with the exception of a strip down the top center, instructed Dylan as he moved into position, patting his chest like the ring hidden there would bring him luck.

A part of me hoped it would.

The third turned in my direction and everything simply stopped.

He was tall, with windblown black hair and dark brows. The line of his jaw was strong and covered by warm tawny skin and dark stubble, and when he folded his arms across his torso, the muscles in his chest and arms rippled, moving in a way that made me swallow. And his eyes were the shade of gold-flecked onyx. The contrast was startling, jaw-dropping even - everything about him was. His features were so harsh that they looked carved, and yet they were astonishingly perfect.

I leaned backward, over to Violet. "I'd let him bed me. Mira would approve."

She snorted and shoved me, her force light enough that I only took one step forward before I caught myself.

"See you two on the other side!" Dylan said over his shoulder with an excited grin before stepping onto the parapet, his arms spread wide.

"Ready for the next one, Riorson?" the rider with the ripped sleeves said.

Xaden Riorson? Just my luck.

I guess Mira would not have approved.

"You ready for this, Melgren?" Rhiannon asked, moving forward.

The black-haired rider snapped his gaze to mine, turning fully toward me, and my heart thundered for all the wrong reasons. A rebellion relic, curving in dips and swirls, started at his bare left wrist, then disappeared under his black uniform to appear again at his collar, where it stretched and swirled up his neck, stopping at his jawline. I edged toward Violet, grabbing the hilt of one of my daggers.

"Oh shit," Violet whispered, and his eyes narrowed as if he could hear her over the howl of wind.

"Melgren?" He stepped toward me, and I looked up. Good gods, I considered myself to be tall but my head reached just above his chin.

I nodded once, and the shining onyx of his eyes transformed into cold, unadulterated hatred. I could almost taste the loathing wafting off him like a bitter cologne.

It was too cliche, hating the child for the sins of their parents, but that was what everyone was doing.

"Violet, Isla?" Rhiannon asked, moving forward.

"You're General Melgren's daughter." His voice was deep and accusatory.

"And you're Fen Riorson's son," I countered, the certainty of this revelation settling in my bones. I lifted my chin. I was so screwed.

Xaden sucked in a deep breath, and the muscle in his jaw flexed once. Twice. "Your father captured mine and killed him."

I opened my mouth to retort but Violet butted in, her expression fierce as she glared up at him. "Your father killed my brother. Seems like we're all even."

"Hardly, Sorrengail." He eyed her, looking her up and down. "Your sister is a rider. Guess that explains the leathers on both of you."

"Guess so." I held his glare, as if winning this staring competition would gain me entrance to the quadrant instead of crossing the parapet behind him.

His hands clenched into fists, and he tensed. I prepared for the strike, taking the dagger out of my sheath slowly.

He might throw me off this tower, but I wouldn't go down without a fight. If I fell, I would sure as hell make sure he was right with me.

"You all right?" Rhiannon asked, her gaze jumping between Xaden and me.

He glanced at her. "You're friends?"

"We met on the stairs," she said, squaring her shoulders.

He looked down, noting her and my mismatched shoes, and arched a brow. His hands relaxed and so I let mine too. "Interesting."

"Are you going to kill me?" I lifted my chin another inch. His gaze clashed with mine as the sky opened and rain fell in a deluge, soaking my hair, my leathers, and the stones around us in seconds.

A scream rent the air, and all four of us jerked our attention to the parapet just in time to see Dylan slip.

He caught himself, hooking his arms over the stone bridge as his feet kicked beneath him, scrambling for a purchase that wasn't there.

"Pull yourself up, Dylan!" Rhiannon shouted.

"Oh, gods!" Violet's hand flew to cover her mouth. I would be beyond pissed if she threw up on me or my new shoes.

But then he lost his grip on the water-slick stone and fell, disappearing from view. The wind and rain steal any sound his body might have made in the valley below.

They stole the sound of my muffled gasp, too. I was glad about that. Showing weakness was never a good sign.

Xaden never took his eyes off me, watching silently with a look I couldn't interpret as I brought my gaze back to his.

"Why would I waste my energy killing you when the parapet will do it for me?" A wicked smile curved his lips. "Your turn."