"You literally have no food in here," Garrick says, flight jacket still on after dropping his pack in the middle of my kitchen and digging through my cupboards.
"I eat in the dining hall. I'm not going to learn to cook suddenly," I point out.
"But come on, you have a guest!" He says, indicating to himself. As the Duke, I was able to pull Garrick back from Samara to co-teach with me– and annoyingly to babysit my venin condition… and possibly to stalk Imogen, though that much is still unclear. And I'm starting to regret telling him he was welcome in my quarters any time.
"Well, my guest was supposed to be here six hours ago." I point out, looking at the clock in the room indicating it's one in the morning. "Not my fault you missed dinner."
"I was busy saving lives, and you couldn't even bring me a sandwich," He says, shaking his head, before pulling a box of crackers from the back of a cabinet– that is most definitely not mine, and I have no idea who's quarters these were before me, but whatever.
Garrick goes on to recount the situation that delayed him. Almost every village around Draithus has been attacked at this point, and it seems like the venin are using an annoying new strategy, where they're surrounding the city with drained lands, making our dragons and our wielding weaker when it comes time to defend Draithus from the inevitable invasion.
That's frustratingly brilliant, considering how they'll be able to keep channeling from Draithus itself, and we'll be flying over land without magic.
"And Navarre still won't allow refugees, so we're helping these civilians evacuate, and they have nowhere to evacuate to," He says. "Honestly, I don't mind the risking my life part that much on the front; I know it's worth it. Speaking to the civilians and telling them I cant help them when they ask what to do after their village is drained… thats what makes me feel fucking helpless… It's like I'm 16 and watching Aretia burn every fucking day."
"Tyrendor and Deaconshire are working on Navarre welcoming refugees, but Morraine is fighting hard against it, and Elsum is pretty loud about not waiting for it either."
"Who would want to live in Elsum? As if the refugees will settle there anyway." Garrick adds dismissively. "Calldyr will just do whatever the king says, right?"
"I think we can get Calldyr on our side actually, he's pretty reasonable– the king signing off on everything once we all agree, is another story though, and Luceras is getable I think, but theres some kind of beef between him and Deaconshire, so that seems like the biggest hurdle annoyingly."
"What's been new here? Bodhi said you've been a good teacher," He asks.
"Did he?" I comment, a little surprised. "He seems pissed at me for making him first in line… But yeah, teaching is kind of fun. For most of them, I don't even need to think about how much I'm channeling, so I'm less worried about pulling something I shouldn't. I'm just keeping Violet blocked so I don't get… distracted."
He smiles at me. "How many days?"
"36," I confirm.
"It was 38 last time, right?" He asks, and I nod. "Well, that's good, right? Is it getting easier? In general?"
"It's getting easier to notice when I'm… not myself. The urges are the same; it's just the ability to remember why I don't actually want to channel that's… helping. I just need to stay focused."
"How does it… feel? The urge to pull, I mean?" he asks, and I don't know how to respond, so for a moment, I don't. I just look out the window, considering it.
"It's like… just.. Always there. I can't forget that I want it. That I need it. It almost feels like it's more harmful not to channel– that I'm being selfish trying not to take it when if I took it, I could save everyone, like I don't need a soul, not when I can keep all of Tyrrendor safe with one pull. Everything I do, I consider it. In everything I touch, I feel the power in it. Almost nothing is satisfying anymore… not when I know how much better it would be if I channeled."
"Is it like when Sgaeyl first started channeling? Like feeling… bigger than yourself?" He asks, regarding the magic.
"Like a thousand times more, though," I admit. "That's something I'm worried about. If we find the cure, or if Jesinia figures out how to stop me channeling… I'll still remember. I don't think the wanting it will ever go away."
He nods, and I tell him about the progress Jesinia has made and the news about the task force trying to make us go north. I also tell him about Sloane ignoring me in class and what she said about delivering the books– also what Jesinia said about siphons… and distinct welding.
"Does that mean I'm like… Amari? Do I control space? I kinda like that," He comments cockally.
He finally asks about Imogen when I tell him about the earth-wielding aspect. Though he's apparently over the topic of the fate of the continent and just wants to know if she's really dating Exal or if they're just talking, which I don't know and refuse to find out.
"You should just talk to Imogen," I point out.
"Remember last year when me and Bodhi and Liam would tell you that you should just talk to Violet? What is it you would say to us?" He asks sarcastically.
"I'm pretty sure I told you all to fuck off– but then I did talk to Violet, and now she loves me, and will probably be the Dutchess of Tyrrendor as long as I dont die before I can marry her."
"Are you implying that if I talk to Imogen, she'll become a duchess? Because I think that's a correlation does not imply causation thing."
I roll my eyes at him.
The next day before class, I show him around the amphitheater and remind him not to flirt with Imogen– or really anyone– at least not in front of the class. Which he waves his hand at as if it didn't need saying.
Infantry arrives first, which makes sense considering we're in their space anyway, and we greet them in, explaining how the wards will protect them from most of the signets– though not all of them, so to please, stay alert.
"Good afternoon, Riders," I called out to first and fourth wing as I enter the amphitheater. "If you'll take your positions as you did last class. Hopefully, no one gets performance anxiety, because as you can see"—I indicate to the full seats of infantry already settled into their seats—"we have a full house today."
"Not sleeping well?" Violet asks through the bond, and here I thought the bags under my eyes were getting better now that I wasn't on the front lines.
"A certain hazel-eyed rider kept me up last night talking." I tell her, turning to that particular rider and asking him to step into the center with me so I can introduce him. "Which I didn't mind, since my bed is too cold without you physically in it and too quiet without you screaming my name."
"I miss Aretia, miss sleeping next to you. Find a way to sneak me in, and I'll keep that bed at precisely the right temperature for you to get some…rest." Violet says, stretching with the rest of her squadmates like nothing at all is going on.
"If I find you in my bed, there's no resting, trust me," I tell her truthfully, wishing to the Gods that I could have just one more night where I'm not worried about killing her or channeling and can just be with her. "Lieutenant Tavis here is an incredibly powerful wind wielder—" I start to announce to the class.
"Don't forget that I know exactly how to knock you out for the night," Violet teases. I should know better then to start this, she likes teasing me in public when theres nothing I can fucking do about it. I find myself trying and failing to suppress a smile while I give her a warning look.
"—and has agreed to let you try your best to bring him down—" I continue to the class, but who the fuck am I kidding, I will always want to play this game with her, even if she usually wins… "Knock me out? You're usually the one begging for mercy a few orgasms in—" I start to speak to the class again, but Violet breaks through my mind, making me lose focus.
"Want to see begging? All I have to do is swirl my tongue around the tip of your—"
I cough badly, and Garrick looks over at me like he knows what's going on. "Lieutenant Tavis is willing to be your sparring dummy." I finally say, after catching my breath. I look over to Violet. Gods, what I wouldn't do to get that tongue on me again…
She smiles back at me. "You started it."
"I'd give anything to be able to finish it," I tell her. "You're going to be the death of me."
"So you keep saying," she teases.
The class gets started, a fire wielder from first wing stepping up and I think it might be a productive lesson considering how often fire wielders and wind wields work together, but she just goes right in with throwing flames at him, which Garrick easily blows back at her face, taking her flint rocks with the gust weakening future strikes.
I look over to Violet, who's muttering with Rhiannon and her squad, apparently strategizing, and focus my attention on not listening so I can watch the fight at hand. Garrick and I review a few points with the fire wielder before she leaves, and the metallurgist from the first class is called in next.
I almost feel bad for him, considering he did what I suggested and used Garrick's blades against him, but Garrick just removed the blades before they could hit him. He's a third-year… he should be able to adapt more quickly than this. I'll have to talk to Ematerrio about that.
"You ready to join in, Second Squad?" Garrick asks, looking directly at Imogen.
"You don't want anything to do with these." She says, lifting her hands, and Garrick smirks. Gods... at least I had the decency to hide Violet in shadows when I was playing with her last class…
"Why don't you put them on me, and we'll see?" He tells her, and I can see her blush from where I stand.
"Oh gods, just stop flirting and fuck already," Ridoc says– way to loudly causing everyone in the apatheater to look.
"I said that out loud, didn't I?" he asks Violet in a whisper I can only hear because of my heightened senses.
"Oh yeah, you did," She tells him. "Garrick's going to blow you off the mat."
"Now that I might enjoy, depending on the method he chooses—" Ridoc winces. "I'm going to stop talking now."
I look over and see Garrick smirking at Imogen still before Ridoc, Rhiannon, Quinn Violet, and Cat all come forward to face Garrick at once.
"How exactly is this fair?" Garrick asks.
"We're never alone on the battlefield, are we?" Violet tells him cheekily.
"We fight as a squad," Rhiannon adds.
"Solid point," I tell them and move out of their way. I was fighting with them in the battle, their squad knew how to work together beautifully. "Begin."
Rhiannon lifts her hands, retrieving two of Garrick's daggers instantly.
"Nice," Garrick gives them, smirking, then flicks his hands upward to throw wind at them– blocked by Ridoc's ice but through the force of the wind some of the ice chips away and flies at Rhiannon, which Violet takes as a sigh to try and fucking kill herself– pushing Rhiannon to the ground to safety, nearly getting stabbed in the process.
"Too close!" I yell, stepping forward, and it's as if Ridoc's ice filled my mind. All I can see is Violet almost being hurt. Rage. Fear. All of it. I'll kill Garrick or Ridoc if they come near her–
"Don't! I'm fine!" She said, getting up and dusting herself off.
"He nearly took off your fucking head," I argue, looking at Garrick. I could kill him. It's not that I forgot I don't want to, or that I don't remember he's my best friend; I just don't care. Not if he hurts Violet.
"My head is still firmly attached." She promises, and I see two Quinns at Garrick's sides. I didn't even notice her starting to project, and Violet turns back to Rhiannon, still fighting like nothing just happened. Like she didn't almost get hurt.
I push my anger down, letting it revert to a simmer– Violet is fine. She's safe. She's strong. And I turn to look back at Garrick and Quinn with her doppelganger projection and his eyes bulge, starting to dart dramatically back and forth between the two. Cat is channeling. With her present, I don't dare to lower my shields enough to see precisely what she's doing to his mind, but she's clearly affecting his emotions.
Violet then moves away from the ice wall still blocking her and throws the dagger Rhiannon retrieved from Garrick back at him, not hitting him, but it's close. She never misses with those daggers, and I remember that I don't want her to kill Garrick. That was a good thing she did.
I turn back to Violet and her gorgeous flushed skin– realizing after a heartbeat that it's flushed because she's preparing to channel. Garrick is still distracted by Quinn and Cat, and Violet opens up the sky, sending lighting down right onto the dagger she threw, proving her aim by hitting it perfectly rather than actually killing Garrick.
Fuck she's so godsdamn sexy when she's leathel.
Garrick looks at Violet, apparently Cat having stopped channeling. "You really did it." He asks, as if surprised she'd risk channeling in a lesson.
"I did," she confirms smuggly.
"Hate to tell you, Sorrengail, but not only did you leave yourself exposed, you also missed." He grins at her.
"Did I?" She asked, looking at him with a smirk of her own, making him glance at the smoking hilt of his dagger behind him. "If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead."
"By Malek, I fucking love you," I tell her. So fucking hot…
"And if I'm exposed, fine. The rest of my squad is alive." She shrugs. Instantly cooling me. Godsdamn she's way to fucking reckless.
Garrick looks at her, clearly impressed– he hasn't really seen her in battle, I realise; even in Ressen, he wasn't with her most of the time.
My attention is pulled by a slow clap coming from the crowd. Fucking Halden.
Violet looks over at him too, and I can feel anxiety spill over from her through the bond.
I knew they knew each other. And from Mira, it sounded like they were friendlier than I cared to examine, but the way he's looking at her…
I've already killed one prince; what harm would killing another really do?
"Help Aaric hide," Violet tells me. "Now."
"Done."
I move to the first year and ask him to retrieve a fresh dagger for Garrick from the weapons rack in the gym. It's a lame excuse, but it's all I could come up with, and he looks at me almost gratefully as he walks off with his head down.
I ignore the annoying announcement at the prince's presence that captures so much of the attention of the cadets who raise at his presence. And by the time I turn back to Violet, she's staring at the prince while he approaches us.
"Your Highness, you'd be safer in the seats—" Garrick tells him.
"And yet, I think the view is much better from right here." He says cockly, looking at Violet and raising my anger again. "Please, don't let me stop you."
Garrick looks at me as if to ask if the prince will be safe here to which I nod, not really able to tell him to fuck off. At least not in front of everyone. So Garrick turns back and calls the next match while second squad walks off.
Violet however, stays next to the fucking prince with Captain Winshire off to the side.
"What are you doing here?" Violet asks, with absolutely no care for formality.
"Learning, of course, like everyone else in this arena." He fucking smile. "Never figured you for rider black, but power looks good on you."
"Don't," Violet says and turns away. I don't even pretend to look at the match, I just lower my shields to read Halden.
He fucking wants her. Worce. He's already had her. He's her fucking ex godsdamned boyfriend? Are you fucking kidding me?
His intentions are fucking clear. He's going to invite her to dinner and then apologize and make her think he means it.
What the fuck does he have to apoligies for? Did he fucking hurt her?
Then he's so fucking sure she'll forgive him and they'll fuck and the images in his head prove he knows her. He knows what she feels like. What she sounds like.
My mind fills with ice and images of the two of them together. Seeing the slightly thinner, slightly lesse mussled Violet he used to know and hearing the fucking sound of her coming. Of her screaming his name.
It takes all my control to put my shields back and turn to Violet, who's looking at me, so I try to look at the match with Garrick and two girls from first wing, but it can't hold my attention when I hear Violet's voice again.
"I don't mean in the arena. What are you doing at Basgiath? It's not exactly alumni weekend." She argues. Mira didn't tell her her ex was still here before she went back to the front? Did she not tell her sister because it wasn't important, or because she didn't want to upset Violet– because he meant something to her?
"Straight to business?" He asks, "You aren't going to ask how I've been? My brother's missing, you know."
"Is he? Or did Cam just need some space from your ego?"
"Seriously, though," Halden asks with a smirk. "No, hello? Not even a compliment on the tailoring of my uniform? Or the fresh haircut? I'm heartbroken, Vi."
He calls her Vi like he knows her. Like he has any fucking right.
"You'd have to own a heart to break it," She says. He did hurt her. I'll kill him for hurting her and I'll take my time doing it for having ever fucking touched her. "And the only hair I remember is your professor's covering your face when I walked in on her riding you. It was auburn, right?"
I shift my stance. He fucking cheated on her?
Who in their right mind would ever cheat on Violet? Risk losing her for some random other women? Violet is everything. Did he really think he could do better?
"Ouch. You wound me." Halden says, not sounding sorry at all, "Yes, I cheated, but you have to remember, I was still suffering from the loss of my twin. I was…"
"Stupid? Thoughtless? Cruel?" She offers, and for the briefest moment, I consider that it was me who killed Alac. Did I give him an excuse to hurt Violet? Of course, that's illogical, but still… "Grief doesn't excuse any of that. Never did."
He sighs. "And here I thought you'd thank me for offering to step in and agree with you in regard to your upcoming mission."
"How so?" She asks, and he reaches into his pocket to show her a missive. "Here. Grady is taking too long and has yet to present a clear path that satisfies my father. I like this option."
She takes the missive from him, and I promised Violet I wouldn't read her, so I don't, but I do lower my shields again to read him, wanting to know what the missie says.
"It's addressed to me." Violet points out.
"Don't get caught up in the details." He shrugs. It's from Tacarus– something about them having an agreement? Probably whatever she did to fuck with the wards, And something about Deverelli? Halden isn't thinking enough about the missive for me to follow it. He's still thinking about how he can get her back into bed.
I pull my shields back in place so I don't kill the prince in front of witnesses. I'll need to be smart about it.
I'll have to ask Aaric how he knew I killed his other brother, I can't risk a witness again…
"You're doing a library exchange with the man first in line to the Poromish throne? Guess you didn't leave the scribes entirely behind," Halden says when Violet looks up. That's what the missive was about?
"You shouldn't be reading my messages," she argues.
"Lucky for you, I am," he says.
"Lucky? You're kidding."
"I wouldn't kid about your upcoming mission. Or you." He looks at her with an expression I really don't fucking like. "I did some research—"
"You mean had someone do your research?"
"Same thing," he shrugs. "The Amelian Citrine is a lesser-magic amplifier worn by one of the members of the first drift. If you're willing to retrieve it, I'm willing to order Grady to change courses."
Someone in first wing fighting Garrick shoots out ice and it pulls my attention for a moment– way to close to hitting me in the fucking face. I thankfully block it with shadows by muscle memory alone, but I miss some of what Violet and Halden are talking about
"Tell me, is it true what they say? You and… Riorson?" Halden asks when I turn back.
Damn fucking straight me and Violet. She'll tell him to fuck off now and I'll feel better.
"If you're asking if I'm in love with him, then the answer is wholeheartedly yes." She looks at me, catching me staring. "If you're prodding to see if we're still together, then let me assure you, we're adhering to the Code of Conduct in the way you never bothered to do. You can report that to your father."
"I wasn't asking for my father, Vi. I was asking for me."
Fuck. Him.
"You what?" She asks, outraged, and turns to face him completely.
"I never told you I was sorry." He says, looking at her way to fucking intensely. "And I should have. If you're not with Riorson—"
"I am in love with him." She says, but somehow, I don't think it's enough to keep me sane this time. "I haven't so much as thought about you in years. Don't chase just because you like a challenge. You'll lose."
Halden scoffs. "Anyone who's ever been with a rider knows their first love—their first loyalty—is always to their dragon. Once you come to terms with that, another man doesn't even feel like competition."
He wants a fucking competition? Hard to compete when you're fucking dead.
Aaric would make a better king anyway. Or fuck it, maybe I'll kill all the Tauri's and Tyrrendor can take over the kingdom. Violet can be my Queen after all.
"Still, with all the time we'll have together on this mission, I thought maybe you'd consider having a quiet dinner with me. Let me make it up to you properly—the way I should have three years ago." He fucking smiles at her. "And don't tell me you let your non-boyfriend dictate your choices."
He reaches toward her like he's going to brush the loose hair around her face behind her hair.
Like I do.
No.
Shadows push through the wards I spend ages perfecting and the next thing I know, Halden is on the fucking ground.
Prick.
"Halden!" Violet calls, kneeling next to him and doing nothing to ease my anger. "Are you all right?"
"My prince!" Captain Winshire yells, running to him with Halden's other guards. I could take all of them without even taking a step. "Oh, Halden, are you…"
"Give it a second, and you'll be able to breathe," Violet says. Is that concern in her voice? Thats not fucking going to continue. I walk up the steps to them and reach out to Violet's mind to hold me steady. I really shouldn't kill him. Not yet.
"Sorry about that," I say in a tone that clearly indicates the opposite. "I was blocking a potentially lethal blow to the first-year and seem to have knocked the wind right out of you."
Violet raises an eyebrow at the obvious lie. "Seriously?"
"He was going to touch you," I explain.
"Right, because that's the mature response."
"Quite. All. Right." Halden struggles.
"It wasn't a response, it was… It simply was." I tell her and crouch down to where Halden lay. "Let's get three things straight, Your Highness. First, I have remarkable hearing, thanks to the shadows at your very feet. Second, I don't control Violet. Never have. Never will. But third, and most importantly, she really, honestly hasn't thought about you. At least not since the second she set eyes on me."
After class, I'm pacing in my quarters counting to ten, then twenty, then one hundred. Then I try reciting some of the texts I've been studying on sigents like Violet does when she's anxious but nothing the fuck at all is calming me down.
I know she has exes. Obviously. She's fucking 21 and drop dead fucking georgious, plus her mother was a sitting general so she travelled around military outposts her whole fucking life. She's had every fucking oppertunity to meet… a fuck ton of men.
I just never wanted to know about any of them.
And fucking Halden? Of all people, Halden fucking Tauri?
And he fucking cheated on her?
There's a knock at my door, and I know I would sense it already if it was Violet– which I do not, but I still think it could be her, so I pull open the door, instantly hoping to see her.
"What the fuck Xaden?" Garrick says, and I roll my eyes, ready to close the door in his face, but he steps in. "He's the fucking prince. You can't just–"
"The last prince that pissed me off was–"
"That's kind of my point– this isn't threshing. You cant just fucking kill the prince of Navarre because he talked to your girlfriend."
"He's her fucking ex," I basiclly yell.
"I picked up on that, yeah–"
"And I didn't know. And he tried to fucking tuch her and–"
"And she wields lightning and is perfectly capable of–"
"I know she can defend herself. It's not about that. He can't— He tried to touch her."
"Xaden, seriously, I need you to take a breath. This is the venin thing talking–"
"I fucking know that!" I yell back. "I know this is irrational. But it doesnt mean he can fucking touch her!"
"When Aetos kissed–"
"Don't fucking remind me."
"When Aetos kissed her, your shadows got a little tense and you were a bitch to Dain, but it wasn't… this. You can't let it control you–"
"Do you think she loved him?" I ask, stopping suddenly mid-stride. "He cheated on her. They broke up because he cheated, not because she didn't like him… do you think she loved him?"
"Xaden– you know she loves you," Garrick says but thats not a fucking answer.
"Why didn't she mention him before?" I ask. "Did she not mention him because they were in love and it was painful?"
"Or because, like you spent the last 6 months saying when we asked why you didn't tell Violet about Cat– because you didn't want to talk about your exes." He offers, but I dismiss him. That's a good point. About Cat.
"One of the things she said about Cat was that Cat was a better match for me because she was nobility. Did Halden make her feel like she wasn't worthy to be the Queen of Navarre?"
"That's getting ahead of yourself a little, I think," He tries to say, but I'm not listening. I head outside. Needing to talk to Violet. Needing to find Halden and beat the shit out of him. Needing… I need Violet.
"Xaden!" Garrick calls, running after me. "Do me a favor, and before you do whatever it is you're thinking about doing. Take a few breaths. If you want to kill Halden, you know I'll help– I wouldn't mind fleeing to Aretia again; it was nice to be home."
I stop walking. I can do that. I can go outside, take a few breaths, get some cool air, and calm down.
And be smart about my plan to kill Halden.
I can do it in a way that there aren't witnesses. I can invite him to have a friendly chat and then accidentally strangle him and any guards he brings with shadows in private or something. I'll workshop that.
I know Garrick was joking about helping me kill him, but I also know that he would if I needed him to.
I reach the ground floor and step out into the cool air and lean against the bricks of the citadel. Garrick still at my side, looking at me like I might channel at any minute.
I take the few breaths he asked me to, and yes. Killing Halden will need to be a much more precise plan. I shouldn't do it at Basgiath; maybe Quest Squad will give me a better opportunity.
But I still need Violet.
I pace for a while, piecing together the plan, wondering what guards he'll bring on the squad– wondering if maybe I can convince Sgaeyl to be the one to carry him and then she can roast him alive over the ocean and his body will be lost at sea…
Or maybe in signet sparring, I can start to ask the Infantry to engage more and demonstrate with Halden and accidentally snap his neck…
"I'm going inside," I tell Garrick after what feels like a long time. He's shivering in the cold, and he looks worried. "I'm going to Violet."
"Xaden, the code–"
"I dont give a fuck about the code of godsdamned conduct" I tell him and thankfully, he doesnt follow.
Time moves quickly, and when I'm at Violet's door and finally knock, I feel even crazier than I did when I first came to her room after the first battle of war games. And that worked out pretty well for me.
She opens the door, looking fucking perfect.
"What are you doing?" She whispers, looking around the hallway for any witnesses to my insanity.
"Did you love him?" I ask.
"Someone is going to see you!"
"Did. You. Love. Him?" I ask again. "I have to know. I can handle it. But I have to know."
"Oh, for Amari's sake." She says, pulling me into her room. I close and lock the door behind me. "I was with Halden years ago."
"Yeah, I picked up on that," I say sarcastically. "I picked up on a lot of things he was thinking."
"That's not how your signet—"
"Did you love him?" I repeat. Not wanting to talk about my signet right now.
"Holy shit, you're actually jealous." She says it like she's surprised.
"Yes, love, I'm jealous," I tell her matter of factly and reach my arms around her, pulling her against me. "I'm jealous of the armor that holds you when I can't, the sheets on your bed that caress your skin every night, and the blades that feel your hands. So, when the prince of our realm walks into my classroom and starts talking to the woman I love with what can only be considered intense familiarity, and then has the audacity to ask her out right in front of me, naturally, I'm going to get jealous."
"And put him into a wall?" She argues. Not answering my question. But she does cup her hands behind my neck, which begins to steady my pulse.
"I told you I would." I remind her. Looking into her eyes. "Back in Aretia, remember? Right after I put you on my throne, spread those beautiful thighs—"
She moves her fingers to cover my mouth. "I remember," she says, her skin flushing, and I nip at her fingers, which she lets fall from my face.
"I told you I'd feel jealous and then I'd kick his ass. I might have turned, but I'm still a man of my word when it comes to you."
"You're Xaden Riorson," she says and kisses me on the chin. "Shadow wielder," she lists, kissing my jaw. "Duke of Tyrrendor," she whispers, her lips against my ear. "Love of my life. You have nothing to be jealous of."
I wish I could leave it at that but I fucking can't. My grip on her is tight, but I make myself step back to look at her face. "Did you love him? Violet, you have to tell me."
Gods I'm an asshole. Of course she doesn't have to tell me shit. But I need this.
"Not the way I love you," she says softly and it breaks my fucking soul. Whatever's left of it, at least.
I back up more, hitting her desk and looking anywhere but at her.
"You loved him."
"I was eighteen." She says like I have any ability to rationalize that this was years before I even met her. Of course, she's had relationships. Meaningful ones.
But she loved him?
The only love I've ever known is hers and it not being entirely mine anymore… its not fair to her but I fucking hate this.
A pain like what I felt when she told me we were over when she woke up after Ressen split my chest open, only instead of it stopping there, it reverberated through my whole body. I feel weak. I feel like my limbs have fallen asleep, and I can't move.
"We were only together for about seven months—a little before his Conscription Day until December. I was infatuated and enamored, and at the time, that rush of utter beguilement was what I knew of love. So yes, I loved him."
"Fuck. And he's going with us. I caught that, too."
I'll kill him. I know I will. Even if I try not to, it's inevitable. And if I see any more of his intentions I'll do it fucking happily.
"Yes. And I get it." She says, stepping towards me. "It's really hard for me to see you anywhere near Cat—"
"I never loved Cat." I remind her. "Sure, the idea of Halden putting his hands on you makes me want to put him back into the wall, especially given the fact that he can touch you and I can't, but knowing he's been here—" I reach for her chest. For her heart. "Has me considering murder so there's no chance of him worming his royal ass back in."
"He can't touch me." She says and takes my hand, pressing it to her mouth for a kiss and returning it back to cover her heart. "This will only ever be yours. You could leave me or even meet Malek, and it still would be. I've made my peace with knowing there's no getting over you."
I move without thinking. Reaching down to take her perfect ass in my hands and lift her up to me.
"Stop me if I cross the line," I add before my mouth finds hers. I can't be what she needs. Can't touch her. Can't have her. But she's in my arms now. And she is mine.
Her lips part for me, and my tongue slides into her perfect, hot mouth.
I feel a stab of pain remembering the first time she went down on me. How it made me jealous. Knowing someone else was there first, she got that good, she wasn't just born knowing how to suck me off perfectly.
It's beyond unfair of me to even care. I've been with plenty of other women. I've cared for them, but she loved him.
Has she kissed him like this?
I take the kiss deeper, needing to be better, to be the best kiss of her fucking life if all I can do is kiss her it will be her whole world. And if I can't be first, then I will be last. I will be the only one who ever touches her.
If I didn't have motivation to stop myself channeling before I fucking do now. I will not let even the fucking option of another man coming after me enter the godsdamned equation. I will survive this. I will find a cure.
She is mine.
I step forward, taking her down on her bed and I find my home between her thighs as her hips rock up to meet me and she fucking moans. The whole fucking world exists in that moan. Stars are born and die in it. Any memory of pain or fear washes away.
She is the only thing that exists, and she's mine.
Her tongue sweeps against me, and her legs wrap around holding me close to her while she keeps making those little sounds I like.
"I love you," I tell her, it's not enough. It sounds fucking stupid. Love. It's more than that but language doesnt have words to tell her how I feel so I push against her so she can feel how fucking hard I am. How hard she makes me.
"I love you." She says in a gasp as her hands slide down my back, and even through the heavy leather of my flight jacket, I know I can't hold myself back if she starts touching me. "I miss you."
"Violet," I groan, pulling shadows out to wrap around her hands and pull them above her head, holding her there. And focusing everything into my lips on hers.
My hand slides down the skin of her neck. So fucking slowly. Way to godsdamn slowly. But I can feel the power that flows through her veins.
"Fuck, your skin is so damned soft."
She whimpers in response, and my mouth traces the same path as my hand, breathing in the smell of her, the heat of my breath bouncing back against me.
"Yes," she moans, pulling at my shadows and arching her body to reach me.
"Still just a kiss." I remind myself, kissing down her throat and gripping her hips.
Fuck.
I roll myself off of her before I lose all sense of control. Staring at her ceiling and listening to her ragged breath.
I can smell her.
These fucking hightened sences have never felt this strong before. I can smell her sex. How wet she is for me, and I'm not even touching her.
Gods I can't fucking imagin how good she'll taste with my new sences.
"Fuck." I pull my arm over my face. Overwhelmed by my need for her, and drop my shadows from her hands. "Please have mercy and say something—anything that distracts me from how damned good you feel in my arms."
"My dad left me a letter. He needs me to go to Deverelli," she says. And yeah, that's distracting.
"Then we'll go," I tell her, finally meeting her eye again.
"We'd have to go under the pretense of searching for Andarna's kind, and I think that's what he's alluding to, but I could be wrong. I have to read the research."
"You still think we should search the Isles, right?" I ask, and she nods. "Then it seems like we can accomplish two goals with one trip."
She licks her lips, and I look away, not able to look at those perfect, full lips, swollen from my use of them. "Searching the isles means we'd need the audience with the king, which requires leaving the wards to get an artifact for the King of Deverelli and calling in help from Halden, so it's not that easy a choice—"
"It is. If my dad left me a letter…" I tell her, rolling to my side, having a hard time imagining how that might feel. "You can tell me all the ways it's going to be shitty, and I'll still say let's go."
"The artifact is in occupied territory."
And she'll insist on going. "And if I ask you to stay behind, all cozy and safe while I get it?" She shakes her head. "Yeah. That's what I thought. At least it will be a chance to evaluate how we function in this squad Grady has put together. When do you want to leave?"
"As soon as possible."
Garrick is in my quarters when I arrive, making me wish I hadn't set the wards to let him, Bodhi, and Imogen in whenever they wanted to. It should be only me and Violet, but he insisted, as if he could stop me if I channeled.
"Tell me there are still two Navarrian princes here?" He asks, and I roll my eyes.
"Yes," I confirm, taking off my flight jacket.
"And you didn't break the code of conduct? You won't be sent back to the front?" He asks.
"Well… I don't think I was seen, so I should still be a professor." I confirm, and he sighs.
"What happened to not touching her?" He says. "Not getting distracted?"
"What happened to minding your own fucking–"
"It is my business, Xaden." He argues, his anger rising, making mine somehow simmer down. Garrick was angry when I told him I turned. He yelled. But other than that, His anger is always milder than my own. He must be really fucking pissed at me.
"You're the fucking venin Duke Xaden. And even if you weren't, you're supposed to be my best friend. If you run off and get caught in Violet's room, I'll return to the front, too. If you kill the fucking prince, I'll be at your side– committing treason. Again. And if you channel, if you lose your soul completely, not only will me, Imogen, Bodhi, and Violet all be executed for treason and harboring a venin, but you will leave Tyrrendor in the hands of Navarre. Gods, the way things are going– Tauri will probably give it to Aetos or some shit. So it is my business what you do. Just like it always has been."
He looks like he's fighting with what he wants to say, like he wants to keep going but doesn't at the same time. And the ice in my mind feels more like it's protecting me now than harming me. The guilt still leaching through its cracks.
"I don't complain about it, Your Grace," He says, apparently deciding to say whatever it is he was holding back, and I think the use of my formal title says enough of it for him. "I never complained when we were kids, and you could do whatever you wanted because you were the son of the Duke. I never complained during the rebellion when you and Bodhi left me behind to watch Aretia burn. I barely said fucking anything when you moved Imogen into my chain of command or when you risked fucking everything bringing Violet to Brennen after Ressen.
"You're the Duke. You've sacrificed for me and for Aretia plenty and you've been put in shit positions your whole life. But I was raised to be at your side, and you don't seem to consider the selfishness of your actions.
"I'm glad you're alive. I'm glad you're with Violet. But you need to stop acting like your turning is only hard for you when it's killing all of us. When everything you did was for yourself, so you could be more powerful, so you could be the one to save her. As if you think you're the only one who can."
I look away, taking a seat at the table and feeling like shit.
He's right. I know he's right. And for the first time in years, I consider the whole picture of what Garrick's been through, not just the one-offs or what he saw when they burned Aretia. He knows Bodhi and I would have taken him if we were able to– we were evacuated before the battle, and I just assumed he would be, too. But he wasn't. Because he wasn't nobility. And looking at the whole picture, I don't understand why he's put up with me for so long.
He's physically the strongest of us. He's one of the most powerful wind wielders active on the continent and the first distance wielder in a century. But somehow, that does seem to get overlooked.
"I'm sorry," I finally say, turning to look him in the eye. "You're right."
"Finally!" He says, his tone returning to a more casual teasing one, and he grins at me. As if nothing happened. "He finally acknowledges someone else might have a point."
He takes the other seat and starts talking about the sparring class and how second squad worked together, and I can't help but wonder about how quickly he compartmentalized his anger. How long it's been waiting under the surface, how much he must resent me for turning, not just how he was angry about it.
I hurt him, and I didn't even realize it. He isn't just going to forgive me after one I'm sorry. He's still pissed and acting like it's fine. How long has he been doing that?
"Cadet Sorringail was making arrangements with the man second in line to Poromiel?" The Duchess of Morraine asks. "and, Your Highness, you support her? I'm sorry, but does that not constitute treason?"
"She requested books our scribes are already working on," Halden shrugs.
"But… a cadet was colluding with a foreign viscount. Surely that isn't acceptable behavior," she argues again.
"We already pardoned her for treason, I don't want to have to do it again." The Duke of Calldyr says, sounding bored.
"I agree, and I support Vi–Cadet Sorringail's plan," Handen concludes, turning to Grady, who looks even more annoyed than the Dutchess. "You'll take your taskforce– sands myself and Captain Winshire to Anca and collect this… Trinket, and then we'll establish our plan for Deverrli. How long do you need to organize the mission?"
"I would be able to have a completed proposal next week–"
"Two days," Halden says. "My father isn't liking how long you're taking to turn this around. What are the hurdles to compiling the mission? We'll take care of it."
"We don't know anything about Anca, sir, only that it was drained several months ago– we don't know where this item is or if any venin resides in the vicinity—"
"They drained Anca and then returned to Zollya. It's unlikely there are venin there, theres no magic for them." I tell them, about as bored as Calldyr, apparently.
"But do we know that for a fact? When was the–"
"Yes," I interrupt. "Because some of us were patrolling throughout Poromiel for the last three months. Anca is drained. It's always possible to come across dark wielders, but I would be more concerned about the flight than the search. Anca is close to Zollya, which is still a venin stronghold. Being further east and drained some time ago could mean a comparatively low risk. As long as no one wields."
"What do you mean as long as no one wields?" Grady snipes at me.
"Have you not read the latest briefing sent in from Draithus?" I ask with a raised eyebrow and flip through the papers in front of me for the memo, translated from Krovlish to Navarrian this morning and sent to all riders.
"Draithus is a Poromish—" He starts to argue.
"Yes, it is. And Poromiel is our ally, which is why their fliers have been kind enough to communicate their findings to us," I explain, lifting up the paper. "There's an unproven, general conscience that wielding on drained land can inform venin of the land's occupation. They'll know we're there if we wield."
Grady just glares at me.
"Samara is our nearest outpost, is that correct?" The Duchess of Elsum points out. It being her province, after all.
"Yes," Grady confirms, straightening himself up again. "We are proposing that Lieutenant Colonel Degrensi welcome us– due to the fluid nature of the front lines, we only requested one rider be spared as a guid, Lieutenant Jerret–"
"Lieutenant Jarret can remain at his point, we do not need a guid from Samara, I am a guid from Samara, I've been stationed there the last year, as has Captain Sorringail who has been granted leave by General Ulicies and General Tinery to join our task force–" I remind him "Not to mention how Cadet Sorringail has spent considerable time there as well, both due to our mated dragons, and the unnecessary mission General Aetos saw fit to send a squad of second years on a few weeks ago."
"Right," Grady says, eyeing me angrily, and I roll my eyes. It continues on until the question of the Citrine's specific whereabouts comes up.
"-Hence, the time needed to prepare for this mission, we need to acquire–" Grady starts.
"Or we can just ask the fliers." I point out. "Cadet Cordella spent considerable time in Anca growing up. She can likely tell us these answers."
"Cordella?" The Duke of Luceras asks. "This would be the niece of the Viscount requesting the citrine?"
"Yes," I confirm.
"A Poromish Viscount's niece," Prince Halden says, eyebrows raised. "She's third in line, I believe, is that right? Why do you know where she spent time as a child?"
"Asking that question makes me think you might already know, Your Highness," I comment quietly.
"You're suggesting your ex-fiance supports the mission your current girlfriend is organizing– and letting the fate of the continent rely on that?"
"I don't think either of those titles apply to either Cadet, nor do I think any history of romantic entanglement is relevant– but if you do think a long, long ago history of romantic involvement indicates an inability to successfully work together, then I may feel the need to point out your own past with Cadet Sorringail, Your Highness, and as her dragon is necessary for this mission… that may indicate your involvement in the task force would be… unhelpful."
The Duchess of Morraine looks like she's having the time of her fucking life, but everyone else just looks uncomfortable. Particularly Melgren, who's eyeing the shadows at the Prince's feet suspiciously. That is fair. Because I may be holding them…
"While I agree that romantic involvement is not relevant to this discussion, should we discuss the implication of our newest Duke apparently having been engaged to someone in line for the throne of Poromiel, prior to the alliance?" The Duchess of Elsum asks; apparently, this fact wasn't widely known... I look at her cooly, and she shrugs, thankfully not pushing the point.
"If a cadet in this building has information on the whereabouts of the Citrine– we should call her in," The Duke of Calldyr announces, and Haden finally agrees.
Several minutes and near-constant glares from Halden later, Cat comes in with her head held high as if she's expecting trouble.
"Cadet Cordella," I say loudly in greeting.
"Your Grace," She gives possibly the fakest fucking bow I've ever seen and then raises an eyebrow at me. "Or should I say Professor Riorson?"
"Your Grace is fine," I smirk at her.
"I'll bet it is," She mutters, and the Dutchess of Morraine actually laughs,
"In your time in Anca–" I start, and she looks at me, surprised. "Did you ever come across The Home of Amelia of the First Drift?"
"Yes," She says, confused. "Several times."
"Are you aware of the location of the Amelian Citrine?" I ask.
"Yes– or, presumably. Anca's been drained, I have no way of knowing if it's been looted after the fact or if the citrine was for some reason moved in the... Several years since my last visit. But yes."
"Would you be interested in joining the task force for discovering the irids on a mission to retrieve–"
"She isn't joining us," Grady interrupts. I close my eyes, messaging the bridge of my nose trying to avoid this fucking headache. "We already have two cadets, we cannot bring another past the wards, and gryphons can't keep pace with the riot, it will slow down the mission."
"I would be happy to join Quest Squad in whatever capacity will help us defend against the dark wielders," She says, looking everyone in the eye except grady, with a particular smile at Halden I roll my eyes at, and sounding like the fucking princess she was raised to be.
After considerable back and forth, it's eventually decided that she'll be asked to draw a fucking map. This is such a fucking mess.