Life in Samara

by EtaOtN

This work contains spoilers from Fourth Wing and Iron Flame. Do not read it unless you finished both the books. I imagined some interactions between mainly Garrick and Xaden, but there will be others too, while moving to or staying in Samara.

Life in Samara

Sommario

Garrick's POV 2

Arrival at Samara Outpost (Garrick POV) 4

A visit to Basgiath (Xaden POV) 7

Coming Back (Garrick POV) 13

Planning (Xaden POV) 16

Big Brother's talk (Garrick POV) 19

Violet's first visiting Samara (Xaden POV) 24

Another life (Garrick POV) 31

Friends (Garrick POV) 35

Garrick's POV

I watch Xaden and Violet move from the party toward the flying camp, their figures merging into the shadows. I scanned the crowd for Imogen, and there she was, her eyes fixed on me. I smiled, planning to head to the flight camp too, but she was already pushing her way through the cadets, who were celebrating the end of the year.

"You're leaving," she says, her voice laced with a question and a hint of accusation.

"Yes," I reply, looking around. "I thought I'd go with Xaden. It's better than travelling alone, and they're making him leave early."

"You're leaving me behind. Again," she says, her voice barely masking her pain. Her words makes me look directly at her for the first time.

"Imogen—" I begin.

"You left me behind in Aretia five years ago, and now you're doing it again. We'll never be back like this, will we? These two horrible years in Basgiath will have to seem not that bad after all, won't they?" Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. I can feel her heartache, her vulnerability.

"Come," I says, taking her elbow and guiding her towards the flying field.

"Leave me and just go!" she shouts, her voice raw with hurt. But I don't let her go. Instead, I shift my grip to her hand and pul her along. Incredibly, she follows without resistance.

When we reach the flying camp, we see a few couples hiding in the dark. Far away, I recognize Xaden and Violet, locked in an embrace. Violet barely reaching his chin.

I turn to Imogen and finally let my backpack drop to the ground. Her hand remain in mine. I had never seen her so vulnerable. Not Imogen, the strong, ruthless rider. She is a force—invincible, untamable—yet now, she seems like the little girl she was.

"I'd never leave you if I had a choice," I say, speaking to the fifteen-year-old girl I left in Aretia.

"But you are," she whisper, her eyes avoiding mine.

"Imogen," I say softly, cupping her chin to make her look at me. I am drawn to her. Damn. I had tried to avoid any physical involvement with her for years, but now, I cannot let go. She is so strong, so beautiful.

Her gaze drops to my lips, and I see the same longing in her eyes that I had seen countless times before. But this time, we are alone, and the tension is palpable.

I want to kiss her so badly. To kiss that pinkish, full pout I had admired for so long. A tear escapes her eye as she stands on tiptoe and kisses me softly, a lingering kiss that is so unlike her usual aggressive behavior.

She pulls back, her eyes now spilling tears. Fuck.

My face lowers of its own accord, and my lips find hers, devouring her, holding her to me. I don't want to leave. I want to stay with her, to protect her from this war. I had wanted her for years. Her, and only her. Looking to fill the gap in me with more women I can remember but never succeeded.

I kiss her with years of pent-up desire, need, and concern. She opens up to me, accepting and reciprocating my emotions. I had known she was interested in me since our first meeting in Basgiath, but I had convinced myself she was the little sister I never had.

But her kiss is far from chaste, and my blood boils. This shouldn't have happened. She needs to stay focused, to survive this place. But her lips are sweet, hot, everything I had ever wanted. She tastes like… home.

I move my left hand to the back of her neck, angling her for better access. Her hands grip my chest, as if never wanting to let go. I hear the flap of a dragon's wings, the wind brushing my cheeks, and I know I have to let go.

Slowly, reluctantly, I pull away from her, my lips lingering on hers. Her stormy grey eyes locked onto mine, filled with disbelief.

"I have to go," I say, the words stumbling out.

She nods, her hands still on my chest. As if burned, she let them drop to her sides.

"Stay alive," I whisper.

"Stay alive," she echoes.

I pick up my backpack, not breaking eye contact, and with all my strength, I turn and walk away, heading towards where Xaden is waiting for me.

Arrival at Samara Outpost (Garrick POV)

It's around midday when we finally reach Samara. The sun hangs high in the sky, casting long shadows from the dense canopy of trees surrounding the outpost. The oppressive heat of the day adds to the sense of unease simmering in my gut.

Sgaeyl, Xaden's dragon, approaches the small clearing outside the fort's walls with a swift, almost reckless descent. Xaden dismounts with a muster's leap, showing off as usual. Sgaeyl immediately retreats to a distant part of the clearing, probably to brood alone.

Chradh, my dragon, lands more gracefully. His calm demeanour helps steady my nerves. I grab my backpack and follow Xaden towards the looming stone walls of Samara.

The outpost's structure is familiar—designed to withstand prolonged sieges and aerial attacks. It looks just like all the other forts we were stationed at during our second and third years in Basgiath. Yet, despite the familiarity, an unknown gnawing sensation churns in my stomach. This place will be our new home for the foreseeable future.

Our new home.

How long will it be before we can return to Aretia? How long before I can see Imogen again? The thought brings a pang of loneliness.

Xaden will have a few hours every seven days with Sorrengale, but I won't be able to see Imogen soon. One year? More? Will she still care for me then? Will she remember our kiss? Was she as affected by it as I was?

I force myself to stop thinking about it. Focus, Garrick.

The guards on the towers notice us. "Look who's here, Gordon. They sent us two fucking traitors' sons," one of them sneers. The words hit hard. I knew we'd receive a cold welcome, but knowing and experiencing it are two different things.

I will never get used to the way they treat us. Never.

Xaden seems unbothered, but I know him too well. He's just better at hiding it.

The gates creak open, and we step inside.

I take a deep breath and follow Xaden towards the captain, a seasoned officer who's seen her share of battles. "We are here to take service, Xaden Riorson and Garrick Tavis, at orders," Xaden states firmly.

"We've been expecting you, even if no one is thrilled to have you here," she replies with a hint of scorn.

She briefs us on the protocols and daily routines at the outpost. The first order of business is to report to the command center—a large hall at the heart of the fortress where strategic planning and coordination take place. Here, we're introduced to the rest of the command staff, including the fort's commanding officer.

"Discipline and vigilance are paramount here," Blackwood begins, his voice grave. "We are the first line of defence against the griffons and their fliers. Our duty is to protect the realm, and failure is not an option. I'll be keeping a close eye on you two marked ones. I didn't want you here, but it seems you're good fighters. We'll see." A wicked smile curls at the corner of his lip.

They assign us our quarters. Every fucking rider here look at us as if we were fucking Venin. The hostility is pretty obvious. Fucking great.

No one wants to room with the great betrayer's son, so Xaden gets a solo room. Lucky bastard. I'm placed with four other riders. None of them seem thrilled to have me there, but the feeling is mutual.

Each area has its own set of rules and procedures, meticulously designed to ensure the fort's readiness at all times—always the same for every post we've visited over the years.

Life at Samara outpost is regimented and demanding. The day begins at dawn with the sounding of a horn, signaling the start of morning drills. These drills are essential, not only for maintaining physical fitness but also for fostering discipline and coordination among the troops.

After setting up our belongings and placing wards on them, I meet Xaden at the walls.

"Solo room, eh? You lucky bastard," I say, trying to lighten the mood. "You'll have your privacy when Sorrengale comes to visit."

He laughs. "Two days every fortnight."

"What? Are they keeping you apart that long? Being this distant means you'll only have a few hours. That's why Sgaeyl was pissed."

"You can't imagine," he says with a near-smile. "She has similar permissions as mine. Every seven days." He sighs deeply.

"Do you think they'll be safe in Basgiath?" I ask after a while.

"Is it possible to be safe in that murderous place?" he replies, worry etched on his face.

Silence.

"I kissed Imogen," I admit.

"I saw you." He turns to look me in the eyes.

"Leaving her felt like betraying her. She said we were leaving her behind like we did years ago in Aretia."

"It was the lemonade," he tries to joke.

"I think I understand why you kept your distance from Sorrengale," I shoot back.

"Yeah, and look how that turned out. Don't follow my lead; take the risk."

Is he really giving me love advice? Xaden?

"Since when do you give me love advice?" I ask, laughing. "Really, Sorrengale's got you heavily."

"Has she forgiven you?" I ask, changing the subject.

"No." He keeps staring at the woods outside Samara.

"How will we make it from this far away?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper.

"You… and… Violet?" This seems too much even for love-struck Xaden.

"No, moron! How can we keep… our activities… from here? We're far from the others. I'll be blocked every leave day we have. We'll be more watched here than ever before, and… fliers… how will we…" he stops.

How will we help them if we have to kill them here? That's the question haunting him.

"You know I've always been your right hand, man. And even your mind lately, since you're so screwed over a certain rider." I try to lighten his mood.

"You wish!" he laughs sadly.

"We will find our way", I try to reassure him… or myself.

The weight of our responsibilities begins to settle heavily on our shoulders. Every decision we make could mean life or death for the marked ones and for all the people in Aretia. The sense of isolation is palpable. We're far from friends, family, and any semblance of a life.

Each day blends into the next, filled with drills, patrols, and constant vigilance. The griffons and their riders are a persistent threat, their presence a constant reminder of the danger we're in.

The nights are the worst. In the silence, the loneliness creeps in, and the weight of our responsibilities feels suffocating. I find myself staring at the ceiling, wondering how long we can keep this up, how long before the strain breaks us.

Xaden and I lean on each other more than ever. Our bond, forged in years of friendship, is now being tested by the harsh realities of war. We share our fears and doubts, finding solace in our shared experiences. But even our camaraderie can't completely dispel the darkness that seems to linger at the edges of our minds.

The separation from the others adds to our stress. Xaden's relationship with Sorrengale is strained by the distance and the limited time they have together. I see the toll it takes on him, the worry and frustration etched on his face.

For me, the longing for Imogen is a constant ache. I replay our last moments together over and over in my mind, wondering if she feels the same way, if she's thinking about me as much as I think about her. The uncertainty is maddening, but there's nothing I can do about it.

One night, as we sit on the wall, staring out at the dark forest, Xaden turns to me "I will be in Basgiath in two days. Would you give me anything for anyone?".

Imogen.

"No, nothing. It's better this way".

"I understand". He reply simply.

She needs to focus on staying alive. And me too.

A visit to Basgiath (Xaden POV)

We are flying toward Basgiath.

Sgaeyl is in a hurry, and I cannot do anything but have her back. I want to see Violence too.

I know she will still be angry, but I want to sort things out. She needs to understand there will always be things she will not know; damn, I am the head of a revolution; I literally live in the shadows.

That doesn't mean you cannot help her understand.

Does this mean you finally decided you are going to like her?

Where did you get such nonsense?

I laugh in my mind; I know Sgaeyl is softening on Violence.

After a grueling ten-hour flight, the imposing silhouette of Basgiath finally comes into view. The sight renews my determination. I see a black spot coming towards us at full force.

It seems your mate is less patient than you, my dear.

She moves her long neck, and her roar reverberates through the air, a fierce acknowledgement of the bond we share.

Tairn has news, and you will not like it. Sgaeyl's voice is grave as she shares Tairn's vision—an attack on Violet. My heart lurches. Fuck. Who is that? He's trying to kill her! As the brutal scene unfolds in my mind, my shadows spiral out of control, swirling around us in a frenzy.

Fuck. Who's that? He is trying to kill her! How is she? As I see the sparring match in my mind, I lose control over my shadows, which swirl around us.

I see his finger on her collarbone, and I shudder. I want to be there. I must be there. She must live! And then I see her hitting her enemy full force on and on, where I showed her last year. Gods. She did it. She is safe, she is alive!

We land at the flying camp, and I leap off Sgaeyl without a second thought. My feet barely touch the ground before I'm sprinting towards her dormitory. Bursting into her room, I'm met with an eerie silence. I sit in her chair, my mind racing with the possibility of losing her today—and who knows how many more times in the future.

She is brave and so fucking smart, and she is becoming stronger by the day. I know she doesn't need a dogwatch anymore, but… Liam… I wish Liam were still here. I miss him so fucking much. Navarra took so many things from me, I'll not let them take Violet.

I sit in her chair, waiting for her to enter her room, bowling. The room is bigger than the one she had last year, and the armoire seems more solid. An image passes in my mind. A life ago.

I perceive her silver link as she heads toward me.

The door opens, and she is here.

"It's been eight days," she says, wincing. "I know," I push off the wall and cross the room in a few steps. "And from what Tairn showed Sgaeyl, I should have told my commander to fuck off and gotten here sooner."

I cup her face gently, my eyes scanning her injuries. "The blood is his," she says. "Good." My gaze lingers on the bruises marring her neck, purple fingerprints against her pale skin—a stark reminder of the danger she faced. Fingerprints. One year ago. It's the second time she has been almost strangled. "I don't even know what his name was." "I know." My hands fall away.

"Colonel Aetos sent him." I nod. "I'm sorry I couldn't kill him first."

"The first-year? Or Aetos?"

"Both." I don't smile at her attempt at a joke.

"Let's get you clean and wrapped up."

"You can't go around killing cadets. You're an officer now."

"Watch me."

"What's it like at Samara?" She asks hours later while sit cross-legged on her bed.

"Look at you, asking questions." A corner of my mouth rises as I lean back, taking over the armchair in the corner of her room, sharpening his daggers on a strap of leather. Is she starting to understand?

"I'm not fighting with you about your question game tonight." She shoots a glare my way. Apparently not.

I follow her gaze over two books on her shelf. I'm wondering what she is thinking about. I don't want to use my signet on her. She must have faith in me, but I have too in her.

"Wanting you to ask what you want to know isn't a game. You and me? Not a game." I keep my hands occupied, sharpening my blade.

"And Samara is… different."

"The one-word answers aren't going to cut it."

I look at her beautiful face. I missed her. I miss this calmness, this sense of easiness "I have to prove myself all over again at what's arguably the cruelest outpost we have. It's…annoying." She smiles my way.

"Do they treat you differently?"

"You mean because of this?" I taps the side of my neck with the flat of my blade, touching the relic.

"Yes." I shrug. "I think the last name does it more than the relic. The older riders are easier on Garrick, which I'm thankful for."

She stops eating, her gaze worried "I'm sorry."

"It's nothing worse than what I expected, and my signet's enough to give most of them pause." "You know what it's like. People judge you by your last name all the time."

"I think it's safe to say you have it worse."

"Only within the borders." I flip her armor over where it's drying on the back of her desk chair, then cross the room to sit on the end of her bed.

"Fair point." She puts the bowl on her nightstand and picks up the brush.

"Did you ward my room from visitors before you left?"

I nod.

"It's warded against sound, too." I cross my ankle over my knee, keeping the boots off her bed. "One-way, of course. You can hear what's going on out there, but they can't hear what's going on in here. Figured you might like your privacy."

Gods, I hope she doesn't need that.

"For all the people I can't bring in?"

"You can bring in whomever you want,"

"Really?" Sarcasm drips from her voice as she drags the brush through her beautiful damp hair.

"Because Rhiannon tried to walk in and ended up on the other side of the hallway."

Rhiannon…The corners of my mouth lift into a smile.

"Tell her to hold your hand next time. The only way in here is by touching you."

"Wait." She pauses, the brush still tangled in her incredible silver hair, then continues, her eyes filled with curiosity.

"So you didn't ward it for only you and me?"

"It's your room, Violet." I fucking love her hair, I wish it was me touching them. My fingers curl in my lap at the image. She swallows. I think she is remembering the same feelings as me. "The room is warded to let in whomever you pull through."

Gods, I need to distract myself. I clears my throat and shift as she finishes another pass with the brush.

"And selfishly, me." Her hair… Gods, I love it. If she ever wants to bring me to my knees or win an argument, all she has to do is let it down. That memory is seared into my mind.

"You warded my room for complete privacy for me and anyone I want to bring in?" She lifts her eyebrows at me incredulously.

"In case I feel like…"

"Doing whatever you want." Don't make me even think about the possibility. I don't think I can take the thought of her with another man. My gaze is heated when I look at her.

"No one will hear a thing. Even if you wreck an armoire." She fumbles the brush, and it falls into her lap.

"This particular one seems pretty solid. Nothing like the flimsy piece I had in my room last year." I know she is thinking at our first time together. Me too.

"Is that a challenge?" I glance at the furniture. "Because I guarantee we can take it down once you're healed."

"No one's ever fully healed around here."

"Good point. Just say the words, Violet." I fucking want her. I want to hear her say the, I want to touch her and kiss her and make them moan and remember how right we are together.

"It only takes three." I can see her walls building as I say it.

"Can and should are two different things," She says, and I recognise the fear in her gaze. "And we definitely shouldn't."

I need to change topic, or I cannot leave her. "Then tell me how your week was instead."

"I couldn't watch them all, at Parapet. I tried, but I…couldn't."

"You were on the tower?" My brow furrows.

"Yes." She shifts, tucking her knees to the side. "I promised Liam I'd help Sloane, and I couldn't do that from the courtyard." A sarcastic laugh escapes her lips. "And she fucking hates me."

"It's impossible to hate you." At the moment, I cannot stay there and watch her without touching her. So I stand and walk to where my rucksack is, leaning up against the wall.

"Trust me. I tried." I gulp.

"Trust me. She does. She actually wanted to challenge me at assessment. She blames me for Liam's death. Not that she's wrong—"

"Liam's death wasn't your fault," I interrupt, my body going rigid. Liam, my brother… it was my fault. I shouldn't have made him watch after her, shouldn't have taken him with me. "It was mine. If Sloane wants to hate anyone, she can aim it all right here." I tap my chest as I turn, setting my rucksack on the desk.

"It wasn't your fault"

"It was." I open the top and rifle through the bag.

"Xaden—"

"How many candidates fell this year?" I pull out a letter, then close the bag.

"Too many."

"It's always too many." I sit on her bed again, this time close enough that her knees brush my thigh.

An image of Liam walking across the Parapet cross my mind.

"And it's okay that you couldn't watch the younger ones die. It means you're still you."

"As opposed to turning into someone else?" I put a flat expression on my face, Liam's death is still too fresh in my mind and I know we both feel responsible for it.

"Because I feel like I am. I don't even want to know the first-years' names. I don't want to know them. I don't want it to hurt when they die. What does that make me?"

"A second-year." I say matter-of-factly.

"I've seen death before," she responds.

"I was practically surrounded by it last year."

"It's not the same. Seeing our friends—our equals—die on the Gauntlet, at Threshing, in challenges, or even in battle is one thing. Everyone in here is just fighting to survive, and it prepares us for what happens out there. But when it's the younger candidates…" I shake my head and lean forward. I want to kiss her. To kiss away her fears, her solitude. My solitude.

She grips the brush as if it were a dagger.

"The first year is when some of us lose our lives," I say softly, tucking her incredible hair behind her ear. "The second year is when the rest of us lose our humanity. It's all part of the process of turning us into effective weapons, and don't forget for a second that's the mission here."

"Desensitizing us to death?"

I nod.

A knock sounds at the door, I sigh and stand, heading for the door.

"Already?" I ask after opening it. Bodhi waiting for me on the other side. "Already."

"Give me a minute." I shut the door without waiting for a response.

"Let me come with you."

"No." I crouch in front of her, putting us at eye level.

"Sleep is the fastest way to heal unless you plan on seeking out Nolon, and from what I hear, he's hard to come by these days."

"You need sleep, too," She protests.

I know she wants to help, to be part of the revolution, but I cannot let her be part of it. She doesn't have our relic, and even if she is getting better at shielding, she still has to endure the interrogations.

"You flew for half a day." I feel like she wants to stop me, as if she is fighting with herself.

"I have a lot to get done before morning."

"Let me help." She is begging.

"Not yet." I reach out to cup her beautiful face, then drop my hand, rethinking the move. She is not ready yet. I don't want to see her refusal, or worst… her withdrawal.

"But I need you to pay close attention to what happens when you leave in seven days with Tairn." I give her the letter. "Until then…here."

"What is this?" She looks at it.

"You told me once that I was scared you might not like me if you got to really know me."

"I remember."

"Every time we're together, we're training or fighting. There's not a lot of time for long walks by the river or whatever passes for romance around here." I squeeze her hand gently, hoping she will understand how difficult this is for me. "But I told you I'd find a way to let you in, and right now, this is all I have."

"I'll see you at Samara." I stand, grab my rucksack and the two swords leaned up against the wall next to the door.

"How do I find you once I'm there?"

I turn at the door and look back at her, holding her gaze and memorising every changing colour in them.

"Third floor, south wing, second door on the right. The wards will let you in."

"Let me guess—warded for sound and to let in you, me, and anyone you tug through?" Her face strangely livid. Is she really asking me if I let other women enter my room? Is she jealous? This means she still cares, no?

"No, Violet." I slip my swords into the sheaths on the pack behind me and a hint of a smirk at the thought of her being jealous. "Just you and me."

And with that I go and close the door of her room.

Seven days.

But I need to move.

Bodhi is waiting for me, we have a meeting to attend tonight. The marked first-years need to be guided, and this year I'll just be a spectator, he is the one in charge.

My presence isn't needed, I know. I trust Bodhi with my life, but I want to remark that Violet is off-limits, and I want to talk to Sloane.

We reach our usual tree.

My thoughts go to the same place one year ago. Violet snicked on that same tree, collecting herbs to poison her opponents. I smirk in my head. My Violence. My… the smirk drops immediately.

The marked ones are all there, waiting for us.

Bodhi start explaining the reason of the meeting and the rules. Questioning the new cadets about their struggles.

I look at them, reading their intentions. They are scared and worried, and some of them are angry at their destiny. Destiny, that is only my fault. But I would do it all again from the beginning. This is their opportunity to live.

And then my eyes reach her, blond hair, light blue eyes, tall and lean, Sloane. Her eyes are so similar to Liam's ones that my heart aches. Liam. I miss him every day.

"When can we kill Sorrengale?" Someone asks.

"Never" I intervene.

"Her life is bonded to mine. You kill her, and you will kill me. Believe me, you don't want so", my shadows reaching for the guy who asked the question, twining to his throat. I don't tighten the grasp. It's just a show, but they must be aware.

"She killed Liam!" Sloane shouts in my direction.

"No, Liam's death is my fault only, I carry that burden every day". I retort with sadness. "I took him with us in a mission and I am the one asking him to watch after her. It's not her fault" I precise. Sloane's eyes widen, and I see the unspread tears.

"Her mother killed our parents!" Someone else shouts.

"Not her daughter. Punishing children for the sins of their parents is the Navarrian way, not the Tyrrish." Imogen shouts back.

The words so similar to the ones Garrick said to her last year, I smirk, looking at her. She looks back and shrugs "She grew into me too, you know?" she gives back in my direction.

I'm relieved. Violence warmed on her, too, and Imogen is not an easy target.

They all nod, keeping asking some random questions. I re-scan their intentions, looking for future problems but without finding any.

When they leave in groups, only Bodhi Imogen and me stay back.

"How is it going?" I ask them.

"They are trying to kill us, I killed a first wing this year for snicking around me when showering" Bodhi supplies.

"It's Aetos, they want to cancel every trace" I supply, checking on Bodhi for possible injuries.

"I'm fine, and we are all alerted. They tried killing Sorrengale too, but she was great at handling him, even if he was twice her size," he supplies, knowing too well I care.

"Be extra attentive. And check on her new time she will leave for Samara. They may try something on her". I instruct, hoping to be wrong.

"You know we have her back."

"She has nightmares about Resson, and doesn't sleep well" Imogen adds quietly.

"How would you know?" Bodhi inquires astonished.

"I … don't sleep well either and my room is on top of hers. We started running every morning together. I think the memory of the Venin draining Soleil scares her."

I lift my left brow.

"And don't say anything to him, will you?" she almost pleads, her voice softening.

"Who are you talking about?" I enquire her with a wicked smile "Who shouldn't know this?"

She grunts and crosses her arms on her chest.

"Is there anything else you want me to tell?" I press gently, giving her space to recover.

"Did he tell you something for me?" she asks a little too quickly, giving away her anxiousness.

I shake my face, her hope crashing clearly.

"Anything else?" I ask them both, giving her time to recover.

They shake their heads.

"Give a punch to Garrick for me, will you?" Bodhi says smiling at me, while looking at Imogen.

"You know I will." I smile back.

"Take care…" Imogen says

You too. I think, without saying it out loud. I cross the field and sprint on Sgaeyl.

Are you ready? I ask her.

Seems so. She feels out of tone.

I would like to stay here too, you know? I try to shake her.

In an instant, we are flying back.

Away from Basgiath, from my friends and from her.

I can still feel the weight of our conversation as we take flight, the wind whipping around us. Basgiath grows smaller below us, but the memories, the promises, and the worries remain as heavy as ever. I glance back one last time, knowing that while the battle may be paused, the war is far from over.

Coming Back (Garrick POV)

He should be here soon. I'm waiting.

I'm in the North Watchtower, officially on lookout duty, but actually waiting for Xaden to arrive. My turn is almost over. I'm pacing. Where is he? Did he stop by Aretia? He should be here by now; it's almost sunset. I turn again, looking for the blue hue that is so familiar. Nothing, but… I see dots moving. Is it a V formation? Chradh?

I feel a flock of gryphons coming your way. Be prepared.

Gods. Is it Syrena? Should I raise the alarm? Are they enemies? The V formation gives it away. I'm going to raise it. I ring the alarm bell with force and urgency.

"Gryphons our way!" I shout.

In an instant, the fortress comes to life; soldiers are running everywhere, and riders are assembling in formation. There, where the flock is, I suddenly see a blue spot, pivoting toward them. Damn, Xaden. Does he really want to confront them all alone? Jackass!

Chradh?

Coming!

My dragon arrives within minutes near the tower, and I launch myself onto his back.

Let's eat some roast chicken, shall we? I laugh at Chradh's antics.

Let's try not to become chicken feed, shall we? I retort jokingly. But the risk is not so unreal.

He sprints toward Xaden and Sgaeyl.

Is it Syrena? I ask hopefully.

No, they are an unfriendly flock.

As if there are friendly ones, I state.

As we approach Sgaeyl, we see the other riders launching our way too, but they are far. Xaden has his shadows engulfing the whole flock as he approaches them. Luckily, it's getting darker, and his power grows stronger in the dark. I call upon Chradh's powers and project my protective shields toward Sgaeyl. But they don't need it. The gryphons are taken aback by the dark shadows, and the few that try to escape are quickly destroyed by Sgaeyl's claws and Xaden's shadows.

When we reach them, they have already killed four gryphons.

"Are you using them for your anger release treatment?" I joke to Xaden when we are near. He looks at me and snorts. A new gryphon escapes his shadows, and immediately, Chradh and I chase after it. I launch a dagger at its flyer, and BANG! The flyer falls from the gryphon into the sky.

Xaden releases his shadows, and the remaining flyers retreat hastily. He clearly didn't want the riders to kill them all, probably as a living admonishment to other flocks.

Captain Herzberg makes a sign, and we all fly back in formation. Of course, apart from Sgaeyl, who doesn't care if her rider is not the Commandant here, and leads.

We arrive back at the outpost, and all of us dismount.

"Why did you let them leave, Riorson?" Herzberg asks.

"They won't come back," he answers boredly. I see the dark circles under his eyes. The idiot has probably not slept at all since he left almost two days ago. The Captain waves his hand, and the formation is dismissed.

"Protecting your friend, Riorson?" a stocky rider, I think from Lucera addresses Xaden in a greasy tone.

"Don't know, did you ask the five dead gryphons there? Ah, no, sorry, you were here sleeping," Xaden answers coldly.

"How dare you, you treacherous marked one?" His face becomes livid as he tries to march against Xaden and me.

"Hey, hey! Leave us alone!" I put myself between the two. We both know we are always the guilty ones in case of a hassle.

Xaden's shadows move toward the rider's neck.

"Tell me, Lieutenant, what were you saying?" Xaden challenges.

He gulps and steps back. "Nothing."

"I thought so," Xaden smirks.

We keep our pace, leaving the courtyard towards the building. I want to know how they are all doing. I want news.

"Did you visit our friends too? Or only Sorrengale?"

"Both," he states dryly without elaborating. "In the sparring room, ok?" he hushes me.

"Sure!" Without saying anything else, we retreat to the gym to talk. No one will be there at this time; they are all eating dinner.

As soon as the door closes, I start my interrogation: "So? Tell me! Did you meet the others? Bodhi? Brennan?... Imogen?" I leave her as the last name by choice, but my priorities are others, and he clearly knows it.

"She is fine. They are coping. Aetos is trying to kill all who were in Resson. But they are strong, so no harm…so far," he is clearly trying to break the news to me without having me worry.

"Killing her? Them?" I correct myself. "That bastard! We should have killed him, you know?"

"I know. He is paying other cadets to murder them. While I was there, one of them tried it with Violet," he puts a hand through his hair as if to clear his mind. "She killed him on the mat," he proceeds proudly.

"I passed via Aretia earlier. No big news there, just more diplomatic requests for Viscount Tecarus".

He takes a break to let the info slide on me "Imogen is having nightmares about Resson. When are you going to visit her?" he pushes me.

"Nightmares? Who doesn't? And I don't plan to visit. I have my license next week, and I plan to visit Aretia." I cannot visit her. I need to keep my distance; she will be better without me.

"I see," he says with an opinionated look. I clearly see a thought crossing his mind. Then he proceeds, "We had a meeting with marked first-years while there. They seem pretty strong this year; maybe they will bond and live."

"And… Sorrengale?" I nudge him jokingly.

"She still doesn't trust me."

I never thought he would answer that. Either he is really tired or...

"She will," I state firmly to reassure him.

With slow movements conveying exhaustion, he drops his rucksack in a corner of the mat.

"No, bullshit, we are not sparring today. It's clear you need sleep." I plant my fists on my hips and spread my legs.

"What? Don't you wish to try winning for once?" he smirks, but his tired face makes the effect completely lost.

"I don't need stupid tricks to win against you," I retort, laughing.

"Believe it," but he picks up the rucksack and moves toward the door.

"Good night, brother." I hope he will have a full night's sleep at least once.

Planning (Xaden POV)

I'm still tired. I slept after the gryphon attack, but my usual nightmare got the best of me. This time, the Venin had Violet in his hand and was going to drain her. I woke up in a sweat, the dread feeling all too real. Being far from her was not helping.

I head to the common dining room to eat something. It's so early in the morning that only a few riders are present, likely those returning from the night patrol shift. They look at me with hate. By now, they all know Garrick and I are here, and I can say with confidence that no one is happy about it.

I go to the table and pick up some sausages and bread.

"Riorson, are you going to poison us all?" one of the riders addresses me with disdain.

I don't care if they don't like me—the feeling is mutual. But they need to stay out of Garrick's way.

I don't answer, don't even look in his direction, and simply go to the coffee table to fill my cup.

The thought of venoms shifts my mind to a certain silvery-haired one.

"I'm talking to you, you bastard!"

I fill my cup and move toward one of the free tables.

Enraged, he decides to march my way with a hand on his blade.

I place my tray on the table, and my shadows engulf him from the floor to his waist, wrapping around his wrists and stopping any movement.

"I'm not going to repeat this," I state in his direction, almost amused by his angry reaction. "Leave me the fuck alone. I'm here to fight the dangers out there, not here." They probably don't even know whom I am really referring to. "We all proved ourselves in Basgiath. Now you can either accept us, or die pushing me—I don't care. So choose wisely."

I drop my shadows.

The silence in the refectory is unreal. All eyes are on me.

I sit and start eating my breakfast.

Feeling safe and bold, the guy raises his blade, runs towards me, and tries to hit me from behind. But I am quicker. I shift on the bench and stand before he brings the blade down where my back was. The blade impacts the table, and I have one of my daggers at his neck before he can even realize it.

Chaos breaks out.

All the other riders stand immediately, moving toward us with their weapons in hand. My shadows immediately kick in and stop them all, shaped like swords rounding them all.

"As I said, you can either accept us…me, or die trying to kill me; I don't care."

They all drop their weapons immediately, looking at me with hate. My shadows collect all their weapons, placing them on their table, and push them to sit.

I look at the rider under my dagger and raise my scarred eyebrow. "What do you choose?" I ask, bored.

He drops his blade. "Fucking traitor," he whispers through clenched teeth.

I push my dagger into his skin, and a drop of blood slowly flows from the blade.

"I am not the traitor here", answer with hate. He cannot even imagine.

"Fuck!" he gulps.

"Leave me the fuck alone," I whisper back with cold detachment, then remove the dagger from his throat and let him leave.

"I don't give second chances." I look him directly in the eyes.

At that moment, Lieutenant Colonel Degrensi enters the dining room. He lets his eyes pass from me to the other riders and then directs his gaze toward me.

"What the hell are you doing, Riorson?"

"Presenting my skills to my new comrades," I answer with a wicked smile.

He looks back at the pale faces of the riders at the far table, then at me and the guy who tried to attack me from behind. He notices the blood on his neck and the weapons scattered on the table, then shifts the corner of his lips and, with a nod in my direction, states, "I see," and goes to get a tray.

I sit alone, with all eyes on my back, and eat my breakfast in solitude.

When I'm finished, I take my tray to the pile near the kitchen, and as I pass by Lieutenant Colonel Degrensi's table, he stops me.

"Riorson, go to the operation room. This morning you'll go patrolling with the first squad. I want to see you there."

Not bad. I'll be able to fly around and better understand the landscape. When I have to meet with the gryphon riders, this will be of use.

"Yes, Sir."

I think Sgaeyl will be happy too.

You are right, Shadowed One. I need some movement.

In the operation room, I am given instructions on how the patrol is conducted and more insight into the territory and the other squad members. Word of what happened at breakfast seems to have already spread, and I am looked upon with a little worry. Good. Better if they are afraid of me.

We will leave in two hours. The time is enough for me to get dressed in my flying leathers and maybe proceed with my plan.

I go back to my room, take a parchment of paper, and begin writing.

Cousin,

I trust training is going well and you all are managing your upcoming enemies.

Next weekend, I'll stay in Samara, but Garrick will meet Aisereigh.

How is Im doing?

I think we can push our brother a little bit.

Just tell her it's a routine check.

Thanks, and stay sharp,

Xaden

I then take my jacket and go to the internal post office.

I will pay Garrick back the same way he did me last year.

He will meet Imogen in Aretia, and they will be there alone. Let's see if he can manage.

Gods, I feel like Violence right now.

Big Brother's talk (Garrick POV)

It's almost midnight when I meet Xaden outside the outpost, ready to fly for my much-needed leave. Violet will arrive tomorrow, probably around noon. He doesn't have leave and is planning to take Jarrett, the owner of the lieutenant's one, on the mat. I'm not worried; he'll have him flat in minutes.

"Anything you want me to give to Aisereigh?" I ask.

"No, but I think they will give you our new orders. They'll probably check you when you come back. They checked me in Basgiath."

"Don't worry, I'll manage," I assure him. I feel so relieved to leave this hell of an outpost. I had been bullied the entire first week until I kicked the hell out of one of the other riders on the mat. Xaden was more theatrical, of course. Nobody still trusts him, but they are keeping their distance, which is good enough, I think.

"Try not to set fire to the whole forest around here," I joke.

"Ah-ah! Funny, Brother. You know she doesn't trust me anymore. I didn't even kiss her last time, just talking. Damn, I may be the one set on fire if she doesn't change her mind," he scoffs with a disconsolate smile.

"Say hello to our friends for me," he winks.

Are you ready to fly home? I ask Chradh.

Every time.

And so we go.

It takes around three hours to reach Aretia. When we arrive, it's early morning, and I don't expect to find anyone up.

I'll catch up with the others in the Valley. I'm sure you will find your stay invigorating. Enjoy your time, Lieutenant.

You too, see you tomorrow night.

I move toward Riorson House. It seems new spaces have been renewed, and the house is getting better with every visit, reminding me so much of the past.

I move toward my room without expecting to meet anyone, but there, in the foyer on the second floor, I catch a glimpse of pink. My heart skips a beat.

I'm sure you will find your stay invigorating. And then Xaden wincing…

He did it. He called her here. I'm going to fucking kill him.

"Imogen!" I call from the stairs.

She turns immediately, and her beautiful hair escapes around her face. She was clearly not expecting me here.

"Garrick…" she whispers.

I proceed with huge strides toward her, skipping two steps at a time. She does the same. We meet in the middle of the foyer, where the huge tapestries on the walls have been mended. Gods, she is beautiful.

She throws herself into my chest, hugging me full force, her face buried in my chest. I cannot do anything else but hold her. She is alive. She is here. I smell her pink hair, resting my lips on the top of her head. She is here.

After an infinite amount of time, or maybe just a few minutes, she moves away from my chest slightly and looks up at me. Her light green eyes are so mesmerizing, I forget how to breath for a second. She is beautiful, and she. Is. here. I stare.

She stands on her tiptoes and kisses me lightly, just a peck on the lips. The jolt of desire that passes through our joined lips is enough to make me instantly recover. I grab her face in my hands and kiss her properly, tasting every inch of her lips and devouring her tongue with mine.

She feels like home, like softness, like life, like everything I have ever wanted. I thought I just needed my friends and maybe someone to warm my bed for a few hours, but no. That was never enough. She is. She is fight, and surrender, she is iron and feathers, she is my entire world. Gods, I want her.

I keep ravishing her mouth with all I have until she pushes me away with her hands on my pecs. I look at her, lost.

"Not here," she says with ragged breath, a cute flush spreading on her cheeks.

"I missed you," I say, lost in her green eyes. Then I take her small, tapered hand in mine and lead her toward my room. I close the door behind us, take her rucksack and leave it near the door, alongside mine. I shift and gently slide her flying jacket from her shoulders. She seems dazed at the moment, her will lost. I remove my goggles and my own flying jacket, then take her hand and lead her to the bed, letting her sit there while I stand.

"How are you? I know Aetos is trying to kill you. Have you been hurt? Are you here alone? Why?" I start firing off questions.

This seems to revive her. "Wow! Garrick, hold on, one at a time, please. I'm fine, they tried but I killed the man. I'm here with Jett, the third-year from First Wing. Why? Should I have a motive to visit home? Because I wanted to!" She ends up almost angry at all the questions.

"Hey! I didn't mean to accuse you. I was not expecting to find you here," I try to reason with her. But my mind is racing. I shouldn't have kissed her. Fuck! I was so happy to see her that I lost control. I shouldn't have. Damn! I want to strip her naked here and now. But I must not.

A hard knock at the door startles us both.

"Garrick? Are you here?" I recognize Brennan's deep voice.

I move toward the door immediately and open it. He smiles fondly at me and embraces me as if I were his younger brother coming home. Then, his gaze shifts to Imogen. "Imogen! You are here too! And you seem pretty tired, too!" he adds with concern.

"Stay here and have some sleep while I talk to him, will you?" I ask her. I want her to stay in my room, sleep on my pillow, and leave her scent here. She is going to protest but then looks at Brennan and me and decides to avoid any fight." The bath is that door", I say, but she knows it already. She must be incredibly tired. I smile at her and follow Brennan out.

"So… you finally came to your senses?" He smirks as we walk toward the kitchen.

"What are you talking about?" I know what he is referring to, but I am not ready to talk about it yet. Fuck, I don't even know myself.

"Imogen. I'm talking about you and Imogen and why you are here."

"I don't know what you are talking about. I am here because of my leave permit from the outpost. I didn't know she would be here too."

Brennan stops mid-stairs. "Gods, I see why you and Riorson are friends. You are both stubborn assholes!"

He looks at me with a smirk. "You have been in love with her since I first met you. Now you are both adults, you are fighting a war that could kill us at any time, you are taken apart by a government that wants you both dead, you meet her here finally alone, and what do you do? You just pretend nothing happened and screw everything up? Gods, you are stubborn!"

Damn, this man is harsh! And I thought I was being sneaky, too.

"She doesn't need someone like me in her life. She needs to stay focused, or they will kill her there."

"Bullshit!" he calls me out. "You are freaking out because everyone you loved died in that fucking revolution while you stayed behind. And you are fucking terrified to let her experience the same pain again!"

I stumble on my feet. Gosh, this man! This is all Xaden's fault. He sent her here, I'm fucking certain. And he let Brennan know, too, I'm sure of it. But he is right. This is exactly why I'm keeping her distant. I don't want to be attached to anyone anymore. I don't want to suffer again, and, most importantly, I don't want HER to suffer that again. She is better off without me.

"I am just trouble, you know. She should stay away from me," I lower my gaze to the stairs while answering him.

"Bullshit!" he retorts. "Now let's go to the mat. I think you need to be punched into the rightness."

"As if you could win against me," I state, following him. I think I need to destroy something right now, and Brennan's head is exactly that.

It's been almost half an hour since we started taking the shit out of each other on the mat.

"Wow! You got better at this!" he says, almost shocked. Pride flows over me. Brennan is a heck of an opponent. I think Xaden and he are equals or so, and training with Malek himself helps. I kick him in the stomach, and he bends over. I start with a right punch toward the kidneys, but he turns and hits me in turn with a kick that sends me to the floor face down.

Damn, he is harsh. I turn, staying on the mat.

"Not enough, I see," he mocks, but he's out of breath and holding on to where I hit him with one hand.

"The thing is, you have her in your bed now, alone, while you kick the hell out of me, because you are simply afraid to enter that room again. You have Xaden and Bodhi, with whom you may talk about all this shit, but who has her back? She is alone, Garrick, in that fucking killing academy of hers, with no one to talk to about what's out there, with people trying to kill her all the time, training not only herself but also other marked ones because you and Xaden asked her to. Will you stand for her or let her be? Alone, Garrick, she is fucking alone."

My arms drop immediately, and I stay flat on the mat. I never thought about her being alone there. She has Bodhi, but Brennan is right, Bodhi is mainly in our male group. She had Liam…. Damn Liam…

She doesn't want to like Violet, even if it's clear she started respecting her after Resson. She still has Quinn, but the chick doesn't know about what's outside.

She is alone.

I left her alone to stand for herself, and she did it. Gods, she excelled at it.

"What if I die?" I ask him, still flat on the mat.

He looks at me with a stunned gaze.

"What if you don't? And better… what while you live? While you both live? Do you really wish to stay away from her, from anyone, because you are afraid to die?" He pushes, offering me a hand.

"Not me being afraid to die. I know I will, damn, I've known it since they killed my parents," I answer tiredly, looking at his hand as if to understand if I can trust him.

"You are afraid of leaving her behind." He bends and takes my hand to help me stand.

"I am." That's the only thing I can say right now, too stunned by my raw emotions.

"Shouldn't you let her choose for herself?" he suggests with a gentle voice.

Violet's first visiting Samara (Xaden POV)

Garrick left one hour ago. I really hope this turns for the better for him and Im. I know he is shitting his trousers about her.

I understand him completely. And for once, I feel lucky because I won't have to relive what happened seven years ago—being the survivor sucks. I must admit that having Violet in my life has given me one more reason to win this damned war. There are 107 reasons to fight, but I needed one to live.

She will arrive around noon, giving me plenty of time to take Jarett to the mat. He has the only other leave left, and I want it. I just need one day, as Violet will be here. Nothing more. I don't need more free time to think.

What will be like to have her here? Will she keep me at a distance as she did last week at Basgiath? Will she understand that I cannot tell her everything? I'll never be able to tell her everything. And I want her to trust in me enough to know I'll never hurt her or do something against her.

But how can she know what to ask you? Sgaeyl. She should know what I'm referring to.

Which side are you, mm?

I finish the report of today's patrol and go out of the operation room to look for Jarett.

Turns out Jarett is fucking muscular, like Garrick, and he has at least twenty pounds on me.

Good, I need some strong sparring to clear my mind.

Are you talking about your shower, Shadowed One? She suggests with a scoff.

I scowl through our connection.

I don't need her to remind me of how I envisioned Violet under me this morning. Gods, I want her.

Sparring. I need sparring.

Jarrett looks at me from head to toe and immediately accepts. I read his intentions: he is sure to beat me in a few minutes and to gain instant glory and the respect of the full outpost.

As if.

We communicate the match to Lieutenant Sahalie and proceed to the foundation, where a room is reserved as a gym.

Riders start to arrive and place bets – few on me, most on Jarett. They will be disappointed.

I remove my tunic and leave it draped across the railing before going down the stone's masonry to the centre of the sparring place.

Jarett sends me a wicked smile "It'll be a pleasure killing your ass Riorson".

"Let's see", I answer confidently.

I pull all my wards and focus only on him and on his next move.

He is slow. Very slow. I don't even have to use my signet to see where he is going, it's so obvious. I start skipping, turning and just punching every now and then, not using my full force, to enrage him. Of course, he doesn't notice.

I hear a shout from the audience and look in that direction.

My gaze meets Violet's blue and hazel eyes. Is she here? How did I not perceive her here? In that moment, Jarett swings and his fist slams into my jaw. Fuck! I got distracted! I stagger backward for the force of the blow. She gasps. And I smile to myself. She gasped!

"Stop playing around and end it," she says through our bond, using it for the first time since Resson.

"Always so violent." I thumb a drop of blood off the split in my lower lip, my gaze flashing to her. I see her, and the gaze she is giving me. A hint of a smile flashes on my lips before I turn on Jarrett. He swings once, then twice, missing me both times.

Then I strike with two quick punches, putting my full weight behind them, and send Jarrett to his hands and knees in the dirt. Jarrett's head hangs as he shakes it slowly, blood dripping from his mouth.

I'm done playing. Violet is here, and the way she is looking at me makes my blood boil.

The riders fall silent in the chamber. I extend my hand to Jarett.

Jarrett's chest heaves for a tense minute before he looks up at me and shoves away the offered hand. He taps the floor twice, and that's money changing , while others clap a couple of times. Jarrett spits blood onto the floor, then stands upright, nodding at me respectfully.

"You did good, I just need today, you may have tomorrow, ok?" I tell him with a smile.

Then I use the metal rungs embedded into the stone's masonry at the far end of the pit to climb out. I reache the top, then take my shirt from where it's draped across the railing and go in her direction. I see the fire in her eyes while she follows every move, and every step I take.

She is speaking with Sahalie, but her gaze is only on me, glued.

I run my tongue over the small cut at the side of my lower lip to test how bad it is, then tug my shirt on. Her eyes are fire on me. A caress lingering on every muscle of my body.

"Good job, Riorson," Lieutenant Sahalie says "I'll tell the major to take you off the patrol roster for forty-eight hours."

"Twenty-four," I correct her, mt eyes on Violet. "I only need twenty-four hours. Jarrett can have the other twenty-four." She'll be gone. "Suit yourself." She clamps Jarrett on the shoulder in consolation as he walks by, then follows him out.

We're alone.

"You're early," I say, Gods I'm screwed for this woman. I try to remind myself why I cannot kiss her senseless and take her here, in this exact place.

She lifts a brow "Is that a complaint?" "No." I shake my head slowly, to cancel my thoughts. I need her to trust me, but Gods, this is a torture. "I just wasn't expecting you until noon." "Turns out Tairn flies pretty damned fast when he's not being held back by a riot."

She looks at my mouth and I almost loose it.

"Violet." My voice drops to the tone I only ever use when we're alone, and usually naked. "Hmmm?"

My powers slips, and in an instant I perceive her intensions. She wants me as much as I want her. "Tell me what's spinning around that beautiful head of yours." I cannot stay away from her right now, I move closer, almost touching her. Fuck, I want to touch her.

"Does it hurt?" She lifts her fingertip to the corner of her lip where mine is split. Damn those lips. I have to shake my head to focus. "I've had worse. It's what I get for blocking with my shields to concentrate on the fight. Otherwise, I would have felt you. Look at me."

I take her chin between my thumb and forefinger and gently tilt her head back before searching her eyes. "What are you thinking? Because I can read a lot into the way you're looking at me, but I'm going to need the words."

Please Violet, trust me.

"I'm about three seconds away from carrying you up to my bedroom to continue this conversation." My hand slides along her jaw, my thumb caressing her lower lip.

"Not your room." she shakes her head. "You. Me. Bed. Not a good idea at the moment."

Fuck, that's a fucking great idea.

"As I remember—which I do, often—we don't always need a bed." My hand moves of its own accordance and my palm is on her waist.

"Violet?" I want to kiss her so badly. The way that locks of hair has left her braid; her sweet soft lips parting for me, her weight shifting, and that insane force within us.

"Hypothetically, if I wanted you to kiss me but only kiss me—" She starts.

My mouth is on hers before she finishes. This is exactly what I need. Her lips part for me, and I don't hesitate gliding my tongue against hers. I groan, and she wraps her arms around my neck.

She is everything I always wanted. My home.

I shut the door a second before pressing her back against the wall of the chamber.

I slide my hands beneath her thighs, caressing every curve in the way there, then I lift her so we're level as I keep claiming her mouth like this is the only time I'll get. Will this be the last time I can kiss her? I need her more than my next breath. And she kisses me back with the same urgency the same desire.

She locks her ankles at the small of my back, bringing our bodies flush. My skin is on fire. I want her nearer, I want to touch her bare skin against mine, to feel her on top of me, to be inside her.

My hands sweeping up her sides, my desire matching the fire of hers.

"Like a moth to a damned flame." She says though our mental pathway, directly to my mind.

"I'm more than willing to let you burn me." I want to burn in you.

I cradle the back of her head, protecting her from the coarse stone, and angle for a deeper kiss. Deeper. More. I can't get enough. I'll never get enough. Energy arcs between us, hotter with every kiss, every flick of her tongue. She knows exactly what I like, how I feel within her, and she is using the knowledge to make me foolish.

Her hands slide into my hair as my lips slip down her throat, and her pulse leaps when I find that special spot she likes, right above the collar of her flight jacket, then mercilessly worship it with my mouth. She is melting into me.

"Gods, I've missed the taste of you." I groan through our mental path. "The feel of you in my arms." She brings her hands to my face and pulls my back to her lips.

I suck her tongue into my mouth, and she whimpers.

I've missed everything about her taste, her kiss, her. I want to fuck her here, in this moment against this damned wall, to remove that jacket, those trousers from her perfect ass.

Gods… no… I must stop or I will lose it completely. I don't want to use sex to have her back. She must choose me, not my body.

I squeeze her waist gently, then stretch up, the tips of my fingers reaching just beneath my breasts. Fuck it, the memory of her breasts under my tongue…I want to throw that jacket to the wind. She reaches for the buttons.

No, not like this, I want her love, not her body.

Using all my willpower, I ease the kiss, taking it from urgent and deep to thorough and deliciously slow.

"We should stop."

"What if I don't want to?"

"We have to, or I won't be able to keep to the only kiss limitation of your hypothetical question." My hand drifts to her ass as my mouth softens, drawing on her lower lip with one last, lingering kiss.

"Fuck, I want you."

"Then don't stop." She looks me in the eyes and I know she means it.

"We can keep it to nothing but sex. We did last year… Not that it worked well."

"Violet." Her name in my lips is part plea, part moan, I am at war with myself, and fuck this is devastating

"You have no idea how badly I want to peel these pants off your amazing ass and fuck you until you're hoarse from screaming my name, so limp from orgasms that you can't fathom leaving my bed ever again, and every tree around here goes up in flames from lightning strikes." my hand slides from behind her head to the nape of her neck.

"Until you remember exactly how good we are together."

"I never forgot." It's a whimper.

"I'm not talking about physically." I lean in and kiss her softly. It's sweet. I am so desperately trying to distance myself, but she is the glue to my mind.

"Xaden," she whisper my name with such a scare, shaking her head slowly. I study her face for a heartbeat. Scare. She fears me. She doesn't trust me yet. I mask the disappointment with a half smile.

"Exactly." I lower her back to her feet, then steady her, holding on to her waist when her knees wobble.

"I want you more than my next breath, but I can't fuck you into looking at me like you used to. I refuse to use sex as a tool to get you back."

I take her hand and press it to her chest.

"Not when I want to be here." Her eyes widen, an apprehensive look shows in her beautiful face.

"That's what I thought." I sigh, but I'm not defeated. I know she loves me, I'm just frustrated. "You still don't trust me, and that's all right. I told you I'm not in this for a battle. I'm winning the damned war. I'm a fucking fool for saying this, but when haven't I been a fool when it comes to you?"

"Excuse me?" She bristles.

"Let me get this out." I glance at her mouth. The need for her lips on mine still fresh.

"I'll kiss you whenever you want because my self-control is shit where you're involved—" "Whenever I want?" Her brows shoot up.

"Yes, whenever you want, because I'll live with my mouth attached to yours if I do it whenever I want." I have to distance myself or I'll not succeed in stopping myself.

"But I'm begging you, Violet. Don't offer me your body unless you're offering me everything. I want you more than I want to fuck you. I want those three little words back." She stares at me, her mouth dropping open slightly.

"It's new territory for me, too." I rake my hands through my hair.

"No one is more surprised than I am, trust me."

"I'm sorry, but weren't you the one last year who said we could have all the sex we wanted as long as we kept feelings out of it?" she folds her arms across her chest sulkily.

"See? Fucking fool." I look up at the ceiling looking for the words to make her understand.

"Last year, I would have used any method it took to win you back, but for those three days you were unconscious, all I did was sit there and watch you sleep, thinking of everything I would have done differently."

I am determined, I bring my gaze back to hers. "This is me doing things differently."

In Aretia, in that chair, waiting for her to open her eyes, so fucking scared she would never recover again, I pledge I would do things differently for her. She needs to understand this. That I care enough for her to take my damn hands away from her godly body, to prove myself to her.

I'll not use sex to reach her heart. She has to fall for me, and me whole.

"This is me proving myself to you." I try to explain, stepping away from her, and opening the door, gesturing for her to walk out first, then I rest my hand on the small of her back as we walk down the hall.

"We're not there yet, but you'll trust me again at some point."

"Sure, as soon as you agree to stop keeping secrets from me."

Damn, she doesn't understand. I will always have secrets for her, as for everyone else, and I don't want to lie to her. Even if only my biggest secret at my core.

"You need to trust me even with secrets for this to work."

"That's not going to happen."

"It will," it will, I repeat to myself. I'll not lose her.

"Are you hungry?" I ask changing subject.

"I need to wash up first. Pretty sure I smell like I've been flying eight hours."

She smells deliciously to me. I need some distance before I casually attack her lips some more. Gods, this is going to be difficult.

"Why don't you head on into my room, and I'll bring food."

I point to the left and say, "That door leads to a private bathing chamber."

"There's no way you got a private bathing chamber as a brand-new lieutenant, Mira doesn't even have one."

"You'd be amazed what you can get when no one wants to share space with Fen Riorson's son," I just state.

Her face drains of colour, and her eyes are instantly covered in sadness.

She is sad for me. A small leap in my heart gives me hope again.

"Don't look so sad. Garrick has to share with four other riders. Go. I'll be right back."

After one hour, she is clean and fed and I am at my desk, fiddling with a small crossbow Garrick and me are training for.

She sits in my bed, brushing her dump hair. I cannot look at her like this, the only thought of her hair down, enough to lose my will.

We are talking about small things happened during the week. I know she is not telling me everything. Bodhi and Imogen are suppling that part. She is trying to keep her distance, that's crystal clear for me.

But this new routine between us, is still enjoyable. I just need her near me.

"But they didn't search Tairn?" I ask without looking up.

"Nope, just dumped my stuff on the ground."

"Did they search Sgaeyl?" I shake my head. My girl would have clawed them for even trying, I think prowdly.

"Only me. And Garrick. And every other new lieutenant leaving Basgiath with a rebellion relic." "They know you've been smuggling something out." She drops her brush. "Toss me a sharpening stone."

"They suspect." I reach into the top right drawer of the desk, taking out the heavy, grey sharpening stone, then lean over to hand it to her, without touching her fingers.

"Thank you."

"When we were at the lake, before Resson, you said the only thing that can kill a venin is what powers the wards."

"Yes." I lean back in the chair, one eyebrow raised. Is she asking? Is she starting to trust me?

"The daggers are made of the material that powers the wards," She correctly guesses. "The alloy Brennan mentioned."

I look in the bottom drawer and pull out a dagger, then I go near her and offer it to her.

She takes it from my hand, and breaths deeply. Is she sensing the magic inside? Or is she remembering Resson? She is safe here, I would die to protect her.

She runs a finger along the medallion in the hilt. "That piece is the alloy."

I sit next to her on the bed, in part to reassure her. "The metal in the hilt. It's a specific blend of materials smelted into what you see there. It's not power in itself, but it's capable of…holding power. The wards themselves originate from the Vale, near Basgiath, but they only reach so far. These hold extra power to boost the wards and extend them. The more material, the stronger the wards. There's an entire armory of them downstairs, boosting the wards. The details are classified, but that's why outposts are placed strategically, to keep our borders from developing weak points."

"But how could the wards ever falter if these power them constantly?"

"Because they only hold so much power. Once it's used, it has to be imbued again."

"Hold on. Imbued with power?"

"Yes. Imbuing is a process of leaving power in stasis, in an object. A rider has to pour their own power into it, which is a skill not a lot of us have." I really look at her. "And don't ask. We're not getting into how that works tonight." I don't want to teach her how to do it. I would have to touch her again and I don't know if I can resist tonight.

"Have they always been placed in daggers?"

I shake my head. "No. That started right before the rebellion. My guess is Melgren had a vision of how an upcoming battle is going to go and these were central to his victory. Once Sgaeyl chose me at Threshing, we started to work to smuggle out a few daggers at a time to supply what drifts we could make friendly contact with."

"Aretia needs a forge to smelt the alloy, to make more weapons."

"Yes. It takes a dragon to fire a crucible, which we have, and a luminary to intensify dragonfire hot enough to smelt," I say.

"So you just put the alloy into a dagger and get an instant venin killer?"

I smile at her. "It's a little more complicated than that."

"What do you think came first? The wards? Or the ability to boost them? Or are they intertwined?"

"That's all classified." I take the dagger back and put it back into the drawer.

"So how about we work on your shields instead of worrying about Navarre's?"

"I'm tired." She adorably yawns.

"Aetos won't care." I slide into her mind.

"Fine. Do your worst".

I love a challenge.

It's morning when I accompany her outside of the outpost to where Sgaeyl and Tairn are.

My heart is heavy. It was nice having her here. We slept in the same bed. I had to keep my hands to myself, but the heat of her back against my chest was just perfect.

She turns toward me and looks me in the eyes.

I see something there. I see the love she had for me, the love she still has, but she is not ready yet. I wish she could see how much she means to me.

I wish she would ask me to kiss her.

She steps on her tiptoe and clasps her hand to my neck, pulling me down towards her, and she feather-kisses me on the lips. So quick and soft I don't even know if it really happened. And in a second, the contact is gone, and she is climbing Tairn's shoulder.

"See you at Basgiath." She whispers.

"Seven days," I answer back.

Again, we say our goodbyes, Shadowed One. I feel Sgaeyl's discomfort.

Indeed.

Another life (Garrick POV)

After Brennan and I sparred, I met the assembly and updated them on our life at Samara. They gave me some insight into what was going on here in Aretia and in the battles around. Not being in Basgiath anymore seems to have some perks: not having to worry about being kidnapped and tortured for classes, for instance. I also receive some papers to give to Xaden. Great, I'm becoming a postman.

It's almost 10 when I go back to my room. I enter softly, trying to avoid any noise in case Imogen is still asleep. She is. I never see her like this—completely at ease, relaxed. She seems so... young.

Her hair is spread on my pillow, one hand near her lovely face, the other, closed in a fist, near her hip. The relic visible on her arm is so similar to mine. She is beautiful. So beautiful. My heart aches. I look at her parted lips. Pink, full. The taste of them is forever burned in my heart.

This is not just want. My heart skips a beat. I don't want her harmed. I want her focused on surviving... living. I know the probabilities are against me and Xaden, but her... I want her out of this, as far as possible from every danger.

A flash of Resson comes to my mind. I was so scared for her, searching for her with every step, so messed up I couldn't even concentrate. When I saw Sorrengale dropping in the air, the air had been lost to my lungs. I had seen Xaden's desperation as he carried her in his arms, lost as I had never seen him. And I could see myself so easily in him! In my nightmares, I was the one standing with Imogen in my arms.

I don't ever want her out there. And I know I'm being irrational as she will for sure be in this war. I just...

She moves in her sleep, catching my attention. Sweat is now slipping through her cheeks, and she is moaning in her sleep. A nightmare? She opens her eyes in a haze, her expression troubled, almost terrified. I run to her side, sit on the bed, and take her in my arms. I want to erase every trouble, every fear she has. It's funny, me wanting to erase the memory of the woman who can wipe them.

She looks at me with surprise and then hugs me full force, her cheek on my chest while she catches her breath. She is almost trembling. What did she dream?

"I'm here, Im," I soothe her, keeping her in my arms and moving my hand up and down her back. Nothing will harm her while she is here, with me. I'll die to keep her safe.

She feels so right here in my arms, my palm big against her back, and slowly, the sensation of her against me shifts, and I am not soothing her anymore, but stroking my hands on her sides, touching her, memorizing the sensation of her in my hands. She only has a tunic on, and I feel every soft curve, every muscle. She feels the change between us too, moves her face from my chest and looks me in the eyes. The fire I see in the green depths of her soul is enticing, and I cannot look away.

"Garrick," my name on her lips is a tantalizing caress. I smile at her, completely captivated by her.

"Kiss me," she asks in a low, rusty voice. And hell breaks loose.

I'm not pushing her away. If this is all we will have, I want it all, and I want it now. My mind is totally, completely focused only on the memory of the taste of her lips on mine. My head has a will of its own, and I find my lips on hers without knowing it. A wholesome and perfect sensation spreads through me, and all I can think about is that I want more. I need to feel her, everything of her.

She is amazing, her taste, the way her tongue moves against mine, both tantalizing and fulfilling at the same time, the little moans she makes, all of her drives me crazy. I am addicted to the taste of her. My blood feels like it's on fire.

She takes my jaw in her delicate hand, caressing me while gripping my tunic. My hands run all over her body, learning every dip, every curve I have imagined for so long. I cradle the back of her head and angle her head to kiss her deeper. She moans against my lips, and her hand slips under my tunic, exploring my chest with tantalizing fingers.

With a quick motion, I put my hands on her hips, lift her, and put her on my lap, her legs straddling me. Her head is now at my level, and I feel her excited nipples pressing on me. She pushes my tunic up, and I take it off between heated kisses. I kiss her neck, and her head goes back, giving me full access while her hands move around my shoulders and her back arches. I am so hard it's almost painful, my blood pounding through me.

In a swift move, I turn, and her back is on the mattress. I keep my weight so as not to crush her, pinning her body under me. She keeps provoking me, her hands are everywhere, ever the warrior she is. She conquers with her touch every part of my body, leaving me breathless. I caress every part of her, undressing her until she is completely naked under me, talking to her through my heated kisses.

She arches against me, pushing my trousers down. I remove them, and when I lean back on the bed, she tries to put herself on top. I smirk at her, "I'm leading today," and with that, I push her back to the bed. She smirks back, a sexy little smile that makes me lose my head. I feel her drenched folds and enter her slowly. She moans, and I feel powerful.

She is perfect for me, every part of her body fits with mine, made for me and me only. I start moving, and she moves with me, a new fighting stance, I smile. Her eyes seem to look directly into my soul while I move inside her. I love every sound she makes, every kiss, every caress.

I kiss her deeply while I make love to her. Sweet, slow, incredibly hot love. No, this is not fucking, this is different. I feel in another universe. I want her to enjoy it, this is only for her. I move slowly, every movement is both solace and tightness. I keep my eyes on hers, I want her to understand what I'm not able to say, she is everything to me.

I feel her walls tightening on me, she is close, and I want to be on that peak with her, together. I thrust stronger and faster, and I feel my release is near. I kiss her with all of myself, feel her peak, and let myself loose in her.

Gods, this has been incredible. She is incredible.

She looks at me, really, deeply looks at me, her breath labored. "I don't want to be one of your mares in your stall." She pushes her hand on my chest, putting distance between our heated bodies. I look at her with a questioning look. She is so much more than one of my fuck buddies.

"I want you, Garrick, but fucking is not enough. I want you, all of you." What? Didn't she feel this was not fucking?

Her eyes flutter, and then, almost timidly, she whispers, "I love you."

She... loves me? I had been pondering for years if she had a crush on Xaden or me, then I finally understood she was looking at me, on the sparring mat, not him, but love... love is a completely different thing. "I..." I'm at a loss for words.

She sees something in me, turns her beautiful face, and pushes me out of her. She is strong but not enough. I stand up a little but don't move, keeping her under me with all my weight.

"Let me go," she is furious. "No," I lower my head, trying to catch her lips with mine, the kiss is the answer I am not ready to give. I put all of myself into this kiss. At first, she tries to push on me with her hands on my chest, then, slowly, her hands slide behind my neck, and she kisses me back. A lonely tear descends from her right eye, streaking her lovely cheek.

"Don't cry, never cry for me, Imogen, I'm not worthy of your tears," I say softly, my hands on her lovely pink hair, at the side of her face. She closes her green eyes, and another tear escapes.

I need her to understand. "We are at war," I simply say.

"We were born at war," she replies out of spite, "and we will probably die at war, so what? I'll not stay in the rear in this war. I am as messed up as all of you are! I lost my family too, Garrick, they killed them, just like they did with yours! And now everything is falling apart, and I will not stay away. I will fight with all my strength and power, and defend my home, my friends, you." She has that uncontrolled fire in herself that always takes me off balance.

"No! Don't say that! I'll not let you die!" the thought frightens me.

She smirks, sarcastically. "I didn't know you were Malek's right-hand man."

"You know what I mean," I sulk. I don't know how to explain, how to take away that hurting expression from her beautiful face.

"No, listen to me! We've always been in this messed-up situation, and I don't think it will magically resolve itself. We will have to fight. For heaven's sake, we are already fighting! And I just want to feel alive! To live within this chaos, to live within all this death!"

She pushes me strongly and quickly slips out from under me. I lose my balance and find myself on one side of the bed, looking at her. She is collecting all her clothes hastily and putting them on, avoiding every eye contact with me.

I sit on the bed, and before I can get up, trying to reach her, she storms out of my room, half-naked, her boots in one hand. The door to my room closes by itself behind her, due to the force of her retreat.

I sit in the sudden silence, my heart pounding and my mind racing. Her words echo in my head. "I love you." But what can I say to that? How can I promise her a future when all I can see is war and death? I stare at the door, wanting to chase after her, to hold her and make her understand that she is everything to me. But I stay still, torn between my love for her and the harsh reality of our world.

I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of her absence. I have to protect her, even if it means keeping her at a distance. I'll fight for her, for us, in every way I can. Because if I lose her, I'll lose myself too.

Friends (Garrick POV)

I arrive back in Samara at night and find Xaden and Sgayle waiting for me in the clearing.

"Hey! Did you miss me that much?" I greet him with a smile.

"As always," he replies, hitting my shoulder with a strong slap. He seems to be in a particularly good mood.

"Have you caused any thunderstorms in the area? You seem pretty cool, brother." Maybe his weekend has been better than mine?

He smirks, but I notice a flicker in his eyes.

"Not that lucky, but... we will get there," he assures me.

Good, he seems convinced, so something juicy must have happened here.

"And you? What about our home?"

Now I know for sure it was all his doing. Imogen being there, us being almost alone in the house—this was his doing, now I'm sure. And I am so angry about it!

I load my right fist and punch him in the face. The fist hits him on the cheekbone, and he stumbles, for once unprepared.

"You know exactly what I found there and how it went! You manipulative bastard! You had her there!" I'm furious.

Xaden spits in the grass and looks at me with a crooked smile that enrages me even more.

I charge again, but this time he throws my fist away, still smiling.

"I get you... talked... about that kiss?" he says with a grin, emphasizing the word.

This asshole is making fun of me. I charge him with my full body. He pivots when I am almost at his side, and I fall into the grass.

"Hmm... let me guess," he looks at me with a stirred grin. "You messed that up, didn't you?"

"I fucked her!" I shout from the grass, and all my anger melts away like snow in the sun. I feel empty, thinking of how she ran from that room. I look at him.

He is now serious again, with a steady posture, looking at me with folded arms. He doesn't say anything, just looks at me, directly in the eyes. Xaden never judges me.

"She was there. I offered my room for her to rest while I talked to the Assembly, and when I came back, she was sleeping on my pillow, and she was so... young."

Xaden sits next to me in the grass.

"She was having a nightmare, and I had to wake her up. She was so scared, like everything she was dreaming was real. She lunged into my arms," I remember her scared green eyes and the evident comfort it gave her finding me there.

Xaden is still next to me; we both look at the trees in front of us, Chradh and Sgayle long gone. "She kissed me."

We stay silent for a couple of minutes.

"I made love to her there," I say openly.

Xaden looks me in the face and raises an eyebrow.

"Oh, come on! I know that with Sorrengale, you got the difference. Don't look at me like that."

He stares and thinks about what I am saying, then his gaze goes to the grass, and he nods.

"I do."

We both sigh in distress, the playfulness we had a few moments before, just forgotten.

"And I miss it," he adds.

My head flips in his direction. I am not used to this new Xaden. "You are scaring me," I joke.

"I'm scaring myself too," he smirks at me.

"I assume that's not why you fucked up, isn't it?" he inquires.

"She wants love, … and commitment… and exclusivity", I list. Everything that I want from her.

"Not ready", he knows me. "Yeah". I'm a fucking wimp.

"What happened with you?" I am now curious to know what put him in such a good mood.

"I kissed her," he simply says, looking in the distance.

This is fun, as if they never did it already, "It doesn't seem like something you didn't already."

"She asked me to. She wanted more, and … I stopped us."

Hmm... talkative tonight...

"Why?" I don't get him. He is even more cryptic than usual.

"I'm a fool," he smirks, answering.

And then I understand.

"It's not enough anymore," he confirms my suspicions.

I sigh. I hit him on the shoulder with mine.

"We are idiots, you know?"

"Yeah."

We stay there, looking at the trees in the darkness for a couple more minutes, both of us lost in our thoughts.

Then Xaden gets up and gives me a hand to lift me.

He says, "We are not losing them."

He is not into pep talk, he never was, but he is right.

At that moment, despite the darkness, I believe him.

Business (Xaden POV)

It's Saturday around midday when I enter Basgiath's flying field.

Where are they? I perceive Violet far away. I ask Sgaeyl.

They are. They took her for that stupid course of yours, where they send you losing in a forest.

Fuck. And Tairn? Are they keeping them apart too?

He is coming, but we will not be far away if she needs him. She is trying to reassure me.

Ok, enjoy your time with your monstrous mate. I wish her

You know? I should really let Tairn know how you call him. It may be interesting. She is enjoying herself, and I am happy to know she is happy.

So… my weekend will be a duty one. I must find Bodhi, and then I want to check on Imogen to see if that stupid goof may be helped.

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