To Tell A Story Is In Some Part To Tell A Lie.

The day drags far longer than any other in the last few months. Garrick can feel the tension radiating as they both continue to move throughout their day. 

Barely sitting for dinner, an unusual sight, Garrick quickly shoves a few mouthfuls in before pushing his chair from the table as Xaden’s gaze flicks to his. On his left, Bodhi shoots both men a look of confusion, but when no response is given, he turns back to his own meal.  They both know it's unheard of for Garrick to willingly miss a full meal. 

“I’ll tell Chradh to get Sgaeyl if needed.” Garrick’s words are barely a breath, something for only Xaden’s ears to hear. 

Xaden blinks slightly, only a glance of recognition before Garrick’s strides begin to eat their way towards the healer quadrant. 

Before his toes even meet the stones of the familiar bridge, there’s an unmistakable edge to the normally calm air and usually quiet voices carry a volume and urgency that has his own pulse spiking. The oddities of the evening have Garrick’s boots moving at a quicker pace, the click of his heels reverberating against worn cobblestones.

“Put them in bay 4.” He can hear Winnifred’s voice break through before he even rounds to the dormitories.

“Yes, Mistress.” Y/N’s familiar voice floats to his ears and he doesn’t stop the small curse that leaves his lips. 

Garrick knows he should stop, turn the other way, but the uncertainty is coiled too tight for him to ignore. Finally rounding the corner into the infirmary, he’s greeted with chaos, bloodied and beaten up bodies of infantry soldiers lining every inch of the hall. 

“Section Leader Tavis.” Winnifred’s stern voice greets him as he begins to walk forward. “If it isn’t urgent, I will need you to return later. As you can see, we are currently at capacity.”

Every inch of Garrick’s body tightens as the words land. Winnifred telling him to leave now without the scolding that he knows she wants to give him. Before he can turn, he sees Y/N’s familiar face pop out. His eyes roam from her head to her toes trying to assess if there’s any damage on her, but the only obvious sign is the same hollowness that has settled in her gaze. For only a second, Garrick is convinced there’s a spark of recognition of the normal light in her eyes, but before he can latch onto it, Y/N turns her head and goes back into the room.  

Turning on his heels, he heads back towards the rider’s quadrant, pulse still kicked up from the adrenaline of finally laying eyes on her again. 

‘The one who fixes is broken herself.’ 

Chradh’s words are thoughtful, a rumble of the truth that is rattling through Garrick’s skull. Hearing his own dragon call her broken has his fists tightening, but he knows that with the amount of people in the infirmary, there is no way he is going to get to her tonight. 

As he walks back into the courtyard and mounts the stairs, there’s no mistaking the twist of the shadows. A smirk rises to Garrick’s lips as he watches their movement when they register his footsteps. He wants to chuckle at the way they waver as the last door on the hall begins to open, but with your drawn face still pulsing behind his eyes, it's hard to muster any humor. 

“Well?”

Xaden doesn’t even wait until Garrick is into his room before stepping out, questions burning in the gold of his best friend's eyes. Garrick shakes his head, his own shoulders dropping. He can feel the way Xaden tenses, the shadows darkening the hall further before retreating. 

“She wouldn’t talk to you either?” The words are out of Xaden’s mouth the minute he closes his door. 

“She couldn’t.” Xaden’s eyes narrow before Garrick can get his next words out. Garrick brings his palms up, ushering his best friend to calm down. 

“Something happened in the infantry quadrant today, the infirmary is inundated and being a third year, she was being directed by Winnifred.” 

Xaden’s shoulders slip slightly down at the words, but the tension is still coiled in the room between them. 

A grunt of frustration pulses from Xaden’s lips as he tears his hand through his hair. He doesn’t want to wait, doesn’t want another night to go by where he doesn’t know what’s going on, but it seems as if his own curiosity and worry won’t be slaked tonight. 

“You’ll go before formation then?” Xaden’s words cut the tense silence between them. 

“I’ll try, but you know we have that leadership meeting tomorrow and I was already late for the last one due to the drop.” Garrick reasons as his hand lands on the knob of Xaden’s door. 

Another twitch of frustration coils through both men, deep in their own thoughts of the woman that currently has her hands steeped in blood, wounds, and herbs.

__________________

As usual, Zinhal has other plans for both men, the leadership meeting moving to Pancheck’s office at his insistence to go over the casualties and injuries that hit the Infantry Quadrant. 

“The incident was contained, but the infirmary is still inundated with patients. The Head Healer has requested sparring be cancelled today for fear of overwhelming the already overworked cadets.” Pancheck’s words are final, though it does nothing to calm the two men that have been itching to make their way to the healer’s quadrant. 

“Wingleaders and Section Leaders, we will be counting on you all to keep everyone in line. Unnecessary injuries will have to wait for healing until we receive the confirmation that the Infirmary is open again.” 

“Yes, Commandant.” They reply in unison as the meeting finally breaks. 

Neither Garrick or Xaden speak as they head towards the dining hall, both in their own thoughts about having another obstacle thrown into their way. Exasperation builds in the space between the two friends, tension coiling through their muscles as they continue their day. 

_______________________

Three nights later, word finally comes from leadership that the Infirmary is open again, the previously inundated cadets getting a small reprieve. Though they are still told to hold the line as the third year cadets finally get a night of rest. 

Before the news settles between them, Garrick’s foot begins to tap in impatience and Xaden’s power stirs, making the shadows of the room come alive in a restless pool. Their mutual unease drenches the space between them as both men hold their ground by sheer force of will. 

After dismissal, they quickly walk towards the door, eyes meeting in agreement. Garrick turns the corner and as soon as he enters the nearest alcove, he pulls on his power and the next time he blinks, her familiar door is in front of him. Garrick listens for any sounds, and the slight bumps through the door tells him that she must at least be awake. Without any further hesitation, he knocks, taps light so as to not shock her. 

For a moment, there is no movement, no sound from either inside or out in the corridor, but just as quietly the door in front of him creaks slightly open. The second her eyes register, the worry that was there turns downtrodden. Her gaze falls to the ground, focusing on her toes instead of meeting Garrick’s own.

“Can I come in?” The words quiet as he waits for her response. 

Her eyes are sunken with exhaustion and the want to wrap her in his arms has his fingers twitching at his sides.

“I’m tired, Garrick.” Her voice is weak, the melodic sharpness of it dampened, though he’s unsure if it's because of exhaustion or whatever she’s not saying.

Garrick stands there, fingernails biting his palms as he silently begs her to let him in, but the offer never comes. 

“I can’t tonight.” The words are a rasp as she begins to close the door. 

Garrick’s hand shoots out to stop the move before it closes completely.

“One of us will come check on you tomorrow then.” It isn’t a question, and both of them know that there is no way to sway either man from keeping that promise. 

She exhales loudly, her breath coming out between a sigh of frustration or acceptance, Garrick can’t tell. The slight nod she gives is the only true proof of acknowledgment before the door closes and clicks in his face.

Garrick’s hands come up to his face, fingers running a trail down his own tired expression, but he knows that he cannot push. She needs a steady shoulder, not someone razing over her own wishes.

As soon as he enters the courtyard, Xaden is waiting. Xaden must see something in Garrick’s expression as he comes closer, the shadows near the alcoves beginning to twist. 

“Tomorrow.” Garrick says. Just one word has Xaden’s jaw ticking as he goes to step towards the healer quadrant.

Garrick grabs Xaden’s shoulder, his grip firm, a warning. “She told me she’s still tired. I told her one of us would check on her tomorrow.” 

Xaden doesn’t respond, only skulks back towards the dormitories, both mean equally as frustrated as the previous six nights combined. 

____________________

“Not here.” A male voice floats through the corridors as Xaden walks towards the common rotunda, a meeting of the higher leadership of all quadrants making him drag his feet just a bit slower, though the terse tone of the person speaking peaks his interest. “I’m just trying to do what’s best for you.”

There’s a murmur of words in response, clearly the quieter voice of a female that doesn’t want to be heard. 

He lets his shadows reach out, checking to see if there is any familiarity in the two people on the other side of the corridor. As soon as they make contact, he comes to a stop and his head whips towards the other hall. 

His hand curls into a fist, knuckles white as he maintains his composure. With a deep breath, he continues towards the Infantry Quadrant, though the tension in his muscles has ratcheted higher knowing that the woman he’s been trying to get to is only on the other side. 

Xaden tugs the strings in his mind and his breath catches in his throat as her thoughts hit him faster than Sgaeyl’s swiftest landing. The ferocity of her thoughts throws his balance, steps faltering to correct himself.

‘Not now.’ Sgaeyl’s command is the only thing that stops him from turning around, from sending shadows to swallow the person that dares to make a woman feel the need to crawl into herself and never rise again. A growl of frustration is pushed through grit teeth, hand ripping through his hair as he continues towards a meeting he knows he’ll never be able to concentrate on now. 

‘She will make it through the day, as will you. You will go to her tonight.’ Sgaeyl, ever the voice of reason, especially with the girl that only lies a few strides away.

“Tonight.” He promises himself as he continues, though the tension has pulled taut in his shoulders. Xaden tries to roll them, but there’s no way to escape the ache that has taken residence in his chest for the girl that has his heart.

_____________________

After over a week of interruptions, ignoring, and general excuses, Xaden Riorson is at the last tether of his patience. 

He doesn’t wait for Garrick, doesn’t need to. Xaden knows with certainty that the minute his best friend knocks on his door with no response he’ll know precisely where he is. 

Each pass of his boots against the stones reverberates with clarity against the walls of the fortress. No matter what he has to do, he is finally going to pry whatever the issue is out of her. Days of her vacant stare where there used to be a dazzle of light and warmth has diminished his own thoughts, especially once he let his power drift to her intentions.

Shadows hide his every move, but the familiar way to her door is paved in his brain. Stepping in front of the tattered wooden planks, he doesn’t hold back his knock, hitting three forceful wraps on her door. The shuffle of feet on the other side are his only acknowledgment before the hinges begin their recognizable squeak. 

Xaden doesn’t wait for her to open the door completely, the need to know what is bothering her a pulse that has been a steady beat for too many agonizing days. 

“Well.” Xaden’s tone is expectant, the need to comfort her a desire that he can no longer deny as he steps fully into her room.

“Well, what?” She fires back, her apathy giving way to annoyance, the door shutting quietly behind her. 

“What is the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“Stop lying to me, and tell me what’s bothering you.” Xaden’s voice gains a slight edge as she continues to deflect.

“I’m not lying. Nothing is bothering me.”

Xaden tugs a hand through his hair, needing an outlet for the irritation at her building non-answer to the question that has been burning behind his eyes. 

“I’m fine.” She says, her voice one of automatic placation and not true emotion. She doesn’t even turn, refusing to meet his eyes. 

She continues walking towards her window, but before she can take two additional steps, Xaden’s hand circles her wrist, keeping her firmly in place.

“No, you aren’t.” He says, quieter now, the irritation that flared before cooling into something softer. 

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It may not matter to you, but it does to me.” That sentence stops her, her movements stilling more than ever before.

Xaden takes that as permission to push, to try and finally pull her out of herself.

“It matters to me. It matters to Garrick. We’re both asking because it matters, because you matter.”

The words seem to break something in her as she takes a shaky breath, turning towards Xaden, her eyes rising to his with a hopeful look. 

“Why?” 

“Becuase no matter what happened, or what you may think, you are important. To me. To Garrick.” Xaden uses her hesitancy to pull her slightly forward, meeting her step for step as he comes closer. Not crowding, just enough for her to know that he’s there, that he isn’t going anywhere.

“Neither of us want to see you with that look. To see the girl we know hide behind hollowed out eyes and wearing herself down with duty. Trying to bury herself in busyness to cover the hurt.”

A knock sounds on the door and Xaden instantly knows his best friend is on the other side. Without stepping away, his wrist flicks, his shadow clicking the lock of the door. Garrick’s boots tap the stones of her room as the door shuts softly. 

“Is this menace giving you a hard time?” The tease in Garrick’s voice finally has the dam she’s been holding back breaking, the tears flowing down her cheeks as Garrick steps closer. 

Xaden doesn’t let go, doesn’t step back, but makes room for Garrick to ground her with his hand on her other pulse point. 

“You both have more important things to worry about than me, than something that doesn’t matter in the long run.” The words whispered through the veil of her tears.

“How about you let us decide what matters to us?”Garrick says as his thumb strokes over her pulse point. 

Garrick pulls her towards her bed, falling back on it and tugging her onto his lap. Xaden doesn’t let go, only follows as she burrows into the expanse of Garrick’s chest. 

Xaden’s hand rises as he sinks to his knees in front of her, his grip landing on her chin and tilting it towards him. Onyx eyes search the ones that he has thought about getting lost in on numerous occasions. 

“Please, Y/N, tell us what happened.” His thumb traces her jaw lightly, her face leaning slightly into his touch. 

“I -” She starts, before her head turns down again, gaze moving away. 

It's clear to both Garrick and Xaden that whatever has her crawling in on herself isn’t a small thing, it's something that has burrowed, grown, and taken root. Something that has the confidence she wears so well evaporating like dew in the morning sun. 

“I don’t need to be a burden to you. You both have your own lives to worry about, the lives of all the marked ones.”

Xaden’s grasp tightens slightly as she tries to diminish herself, to make her relevance obsolete. 

“You are not a burden and neither of us would be here if we didn’t want to be.” Garrick’s words do not seem to have the effect that either man thought they would. 

“But why?” She whispers into Garrick’s chest, still trying to avoid Xaden’s gaze.

“Why what, my Heart?” Xaden's voice is quiet as his thumb continues its slow graze of her knuckles, a point of contact to ground both of them. 

“Why me?” 

“Why not you?” They both counter.

“You’re linked to the most powerful rider in the quadrant.” She says while her gaze stays on Xaden. “And both of you can have any girl you want. So, why are you here? I’m nothing special.”

“You both have magic, endless opportunities to have anyone you want, women or men that can defend themselves, that throw themselves into danger, and are on your level. I’m just a nobody.”

Both men share a look, still trying to make sense of what’s happened. What made her close in on herself so fiercely, the defiance she wears like a cloak nowhere to be found. 

“Maybe it's time for you both to go.” She tries to rise, but Garrick doesn't relinquish an inch. 

‘She’s afraid that she is too much.’

‘Someone has made her believe that she never allows anyone else to feel. That she never causes anything but grief and critique. That she doesn’t accept people for who they are. That she is always a burden and must work for their love. She thinks the person she is will never be someone that anyone really wants.’

The words reverberate to both men from their respective dragons. Each creature reads the woman that has their rider’s hearts in her hand with full clarity. They may not be linked to her, but her thoughts are easily pulled through their rider’s minds.

“Did he say that?” The words are terse, the tension in the room growing.

She looks up from her crumpled form, eyes landing squarely on Xaden.

“Did who say what?” Her emotion morphs from confusion to embarrassing understanding quicker than she can rise from Garrick’s lap. 

“Y/N, what did he tell you?” The words are grit out from between Garrick’s teeth, his hold on her tightening, breath warm against her ear. “Or was it someone else?”

“It doesn’t matter if anyone said anything, not if it's the truth.” 

A snarl leaves Xaden’s lips, though Garrick’s hand on his forearm has him stopping. Both men take a sharp breath at the realization of how deep this runs. 

“It isn’t the first time someone has told me I’m too much. Too blunt. Too scolding. Too judgmental. That I never listen. That I only ever pick at other people. That I never give anyone else grace to be themselves.”

As her words continue, both men can hear the tremble in her words, each one showing the weakness she believes lives in her bones. Her emotions are seeping in the room and Xaden has to reenforce his shields against her raging grief, the storm of defeat that brews under her skin. 

Before either man can refute her claims, the sound of a soft whimper fills the room. As they both look down to her, they don’t miss the silent tears that have renewed and are streaming down her face. The once electric-filled gaze glazing over in sadness. 

The room descends into a feeling of despair so full that neither man can decide how to pull her forward. Grief of what she sees as failure encompasses every inch as if it's a living thing. Though not willing to accept defeat, Xaden spins her in Garrick’s lap, making her gaze turn back to him. 

“No.” The word is firm, unyielding, so forceful that she looks up in bewilderment, tears temporarily forgotten. “You will not let him or anyone make you feel like you are anything lesser.”

“But -”

“No.” This time it’s Garrick’s turn to chime in, a fierce protectiveness lining his tone. 

Instead of giving in, of believing their words, she shocks both men by slamming her defenses up. 

“You can’t say that.” She shakes her head as the walls begin to pull around her heart. “You don’t even really know me.”

When Garrick’s arms slacken at her words, she stands, the fortress she’s building rising to a level that neither man believes they’ll be able to crack. 

“I think it's time both of you leave. That you forget about me. I’m not your obligation to bear. You both risk your lives every day and I don’t need to add to that.”

She opens her door, but the minute it cracks open, it shuts again quickly.   

“We aren’t leaving.” Xaden’s words are just as firm, the wisp of shadow slinking back to the wall after shutting the door again. 

“You are.” She challenges.

“Why?” Garrick responds in turn. 

“Because I’m tired of trying to always fit in the boxes that someone else subscribes. The way that I’m supposed to fall in line to be liked or loved.” The fire has returned to her eyes, but they blaze with the force to try and turn both men away. 

“Do you think I would be standing here if I didn’t see all of you and still want you desperately anyway?” Xaden has dropped all pretense of why he’s truly there. 

She turns, eyes wide and mouth clamping shut at the words. Her eyes search between Xaden’s own, disbelief and hope mixing in a dangerous cocktail.

“That’s not true.” She whispers as she turns towards the door, determined to push back against him.

Garrick’s rueful laugh is the thing that has her turning again to look between both men. The uncertainty and confusion in her eyes has Xaden smirking and Garrick’s dimple popping. 

“You truly don’t know, do you Sweet Pea?” Garrick croons as he siddles closer to her.

“Kn - know what?” She stammers as her eyes continue to dart between them. 

“How absolutely perfect you are.” Garrick reveals as he steps directly in front of her, filling her vision completely. 

"Just. You. Just the way you are.” With each word, Garrick’s hands raise first to her waist, then to the back of her head, finally tugging her forward. 

The force of it has her breath hitching, Garrick’s grin widening, deepening the dimple that he catches her eyes focusing on. He waits for a moment, gives her time to pull away or tell him no, but when she begins to melt into his hold, he knows her answer. 

Garrick lowers his head slowly, not wanting to push her away. But as he hovers mere inches away from her lips, he can’t help but ask. 

“May I?” The whisper of his breath hits her lips as she nods her head slightly. 

The kiss isn’t rushed, it isn’t forceful. It's everything that she needs wrapped in the skin of someone who will protect every inch of her vulnerability from the outside world. Garrick lets his lips linger as he takes in the taste of her, the addictive warmth that settles in his muscles as his hand grips her waist firmly. 

He breaks the kiss, but doesn’t go far, his forehead resting on hers as he pulls back slightly.

Garrick wishes he could see into her mind, see if she felt everything that he did, but with the flutter of her pulse under his hand, he smiles. This time it isn’t teasing, it's genuine. The smile of a man that has been seeking the attention of the woman in front of him for far too long. 

Garrick feels a tug at the hand at her neck and his eyes flick down and notice the band of shadow. His smile changes to a smirk as he takes a slight step back, only far enough for Xaden to take his place. 

The room seems to chill with the possessive way the shadows dance around the woman that has the full attention of both men. 

“Are you going to let me kiss you as well, my Heart?” Xaden’s words are quiet, but there’s no way to miss the possessive edge. The way the words curl at the end after watching his best friend kiss the mouth that he desperately wants as well. 

Xaden doesn’t miss the question in her eyes. The uncertainty of being placed between the two intimidating men. But he doesn’t let her fears linger long. 

“Don’t worry, Heart.” Xaden assures as his own hand comes to stroke her cheek with a gentle touch he saves only for her. “Garrick and I are perfectly capable of sharing, especially someone with a beautiful heart like yours.”

Her eyebrow quirks before Xaden continues, “Of course that is only if that is alright with you.”

She tries to pull her face down, a flush taking over her cheeks at Xaden’s words, but he refuses to let her hide. 

“There’s no reason to hide. We both want to keep you. Every real bit of you is ours. Every perfect inch, inside your beautiful heart and out.” He continues, before stopping. “But - only if that is something you want too.”

She opens her mouth and then closes it, eyes still searching Xaden’s own. When she dares to speak the words are quiet, as if she raises her voice it might break the spell that has drawn the three of them together.

“Is this real?” The awe of the impossibility is stark in every word. 

“I promise you, this isn’t a dream. This is real.” Xaden confirms stepping closer to her and wrapping his arm around her waist.

“Neither of us can imagine our lives without you.” Xaden’s head falls to hers, the need to have her as close as possible rising. “Neither of us want to, if you’ll have us.”

He can feel the way she begins to be overwhelmed with the prospect of both of them, but Xaden doesn’t step back. Instead, his hand finds the back of her head and hugs her tightly to his chest. 

The steady rhythm of his heart must calm her nerves, because moments later she pulls back slightly to look at him again. Xaden doesn’t miss the vulnerable uncertainty in her eyes, and he knows that she still doesn’t truly believe everything he says is real. 

Instead of explaining to her again, he only has one question in mind.

“May I kiss you as well?” The words are quiet as his fingers tangle in the hair at the back of her neck. The anticipation of the next few moments tingling in his own fingertips. 

“Yes.” She breathes the words lightly, but it barely leaves before Xaden’s lips are on hers. 

The minute Xaden feels the taste of her on his lips, he pulls her closer. The war between needing to prove her insecurities wrong and his own true feelings for her spurring him on. This kiss isn’t as sweet as Garrick’s but Xaden can feel when she finally lets herself accept that this is real. 

Instead of pulling away, her hands come up and tangle in the lapels of his flight jacket,  hands clinging and tugging him closer. Xaden doesn’t stop the smile that ticks his lips up even when he still can’t stop kissing her. 

“My Heart.” The name leaves Xaden a tug between a moan and a growl. His body folding into hers as her addictive taste coats his tongue, her mouth opening enough for him to finally taste her. 

A gasp leaves her lips as Xaden feels Garrick step behind her. Xaden’s hand moves as Garrick’s nose glides up the side of her neck, his hand caressing the same spot as where Xaden’s just was, lips following closely behind. 

Xaden begins walking back, tugging the girl still wrapped in his arms with him. This time it's his turn to sit on her bed. As she falls into his lap, he turns her forward so this time it is Garrick’s face she sees. His arms encircle her waist tugging her tightly into him, the reassurance of her warmth causing the strain that was laden there only days before to melt. Xaden’s lips graze her neck and then his nose follows, the smell and feel of her making him relax further than he ever has before.

“You are ours, Sweet Pea.” Garrick confirms as he drops in front of her. 

“And no one will ever again make you feel like you aren’t enough.” Xaden rasps as his hand grabs her chin firmly. “Do you understand?”

Her head swings back and forth between the two men she is wedged between, disbelief shines, though it's short-lived.

“Tonight, we are going to prove to you this is real. That we aren’t going anywhere. And that your beautiful soul is everything to us.” Xaden whispers as he lays her down, Garrick turning to kick his boots by the door and removing his flight jacket.

Garrick lays down beside her, pulling her head to his chest and tucking her firmly in his arms.  Her warmth settling firmly into the steady beat of his heart. A thump sounds from behind as Xaden copies Garrick’s previous movements after rising. 

Bed dipping, Xaden twines his arms around her middle, the heat of her burrowing into his chest in turn. Tension subsides from his body, the frustrations of not seeing his Heart melting as he presses her back firmly against him. 

Both men share a look as in moments, they feel her body melt into their warmth and safety. Comfortable silence falls over the room, all of the strain and heartache evaporating like the last drops of a spring storm. 

As much as they want to explore the new dynamic of this relationship, they both know she needs time to assuage the doubt. 

Doubt in herself. 

Doubt this is real. 

Doubt of her worthiness.  

But, as with the rebuilding of Aretia, they are used to being patient. Used to waiting to savor the delicacies that await in the taste of her lips and skin. As they follow her into sleep, their arms fastened securely against her, they both know that the beautiful girl between them has fully stolen their hearts. A silent promise is given before the oblivion of sleep settles between them that going forward she will never be able to doubt she is enough. That the girl between them is perfect for them, inside and out.

.

.

You could feel the bad day brewing before you even opened your eyes. The terse way you left things last night an unsteady pulse in your brain and although you’d rather lay in bed and rot, Basgiath didn’t wait for anyone to be ready.

“You’ve looked better.” Jax’s voice hits you as you open the door to your room. 

Your body feels like there are dead weights attached, each movement a sluggish version of your normally smooth gait. You’ve already seen your reflection and it took only two seconds before you knew you didn’t want to look in the mirror again. 

“Thanks.” You murmur as your eyes slowly lead up to Jax’s, not missing the sharp knowing look. 

“Couldn’t sleep, I suppose?” Bodhi’s voice floats from Jax’s left as all three of you move down the hallway towards the dining hall. 

You huff through your nose, but they don’t push after that, your mood only further souring as you look up to the empty chair on the dais. You drop unceremoniously into your normal seat, not caring that you’ve fallen into your seat like a sack of grain. 

Staring at the unappetizing food in front of you, your fork only pushes food around your plate, each morsel more like a taunt than actual sustenance.

“You need to eat something you know.” Bodhi’s worried words hit you as he walks up to the table, clearly watching closer than you realized.  

“I’m fine.” You huff, though it's obvious that you’re not. 

“You know the only reason he left was because of Tairn and Sgaeyl.” 

The scowl that makes it onto your face does nothing to soften the irritation that has coiled around you. 

“So you keep telling me, but at some point, that excuse seems awfully thin, doesn’t it?” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you push your chair back, not wanting the same circular argument to continue after yesterday’s match between Bodhi and Garrick. 

You raise to stand and your body barely listens to the command, your knee slightly buckling as you rise. Bodhi’s eyes widen a fraction and you know that he’s seen it, the weakness that you’ve been trying desperately to hide.

“Y/N, what’s -”

You don’t give him time to finish, picking up your tray and heading straight for the exit. You take a deep breath, but even those seem to be more difficult these days before making your way to physics class. 

Trying to find solace in the numbers and equations, the velocity of a flight and fall, it's impossible to shake the stare that seems to want to bore a hole into your back. Instead of telling Bodhi to back off, you only stare forward, trying to drown out the tide of thoughts and emotions that have been eating at you since Xaden left. 

_____________________

Tightening the hair that you’ve tied on top of your head, you wait for your name to be called. Every inch of your body is still humming with fatigue, a tiredness you haven’t felt in ages. At least not since Xaden had been making sure you were eating every meal. 

And of course taking the iron draft the healers had suggested, but when you ran out yesterday and Xaden told you he was leaving for Montserrat, you just stopped caring. Instead of going to the infirmary to replenish your supply, you had stubbornly refused to eat dinner and stayed in your room. Grief and irritation a throbbing pulse, even through the sharp headache at your temple.  

Ever since Threshing, Xaden’s bond between him and Sorrengail had driven a wedge into your relationship which neither of you knew how to navigate. You didn't blame him for his attention on her, her life was now his afterall, but it didn’t quash the ways you began to judge yourself. The thoughts of your weaknesses ratcheting up. The faulty ways of your own body. 

You knew Violet had issues too, but having the attention of your own boyfriend had you feeling second best. What if you were just another thing for him to fix?

Not that Xaden treated you that way. 

That didn’t change the thoughts that crept into your mind. The truth of not being the strongest. The deficiencies you’d had your whole life a magnifying glass of all of the ways that you were insufficient. Not suited to the rider’s quadrant. And on top of that, your power was just another run of the mill signet. 

Why would the most powerful rider in the quadrant want anyone other than his equal in power? Why would Xaden continue to want you? 

You weren’t bonded to the largest dragon, his own dragon’s mate, and although you could be deadly with your water wielding signet, it wasn’t overly impressive, not standing next to a perfectly controlled shadow wielder. 

Taking a breath, you let all the feelings wash over you. That and the gnawing ache of fatigue that settled over you like a weighted blanket. 

“L/N and Jand. Step up to the mat.”

“Fuck.” Bodhi’s whisper is not quite as low as he expected. “He’s going to lose his fucking mind.”

You didn’t turn to acknowledge Bodhi’s words, only moving towards the mat, uncertainty beating across your chest as you looked at your opponent. Jand was a second year, but his build was close to Garrick’s, raw power emanating from the mountain of muscle. Though where Garrick was controlled power and agility, Jand was nothing but brute strength and force. 

With the way your hands had begun to tremble, you knew that this fight wasn’t going to end with you still standing. 

“Finally I get to see what Rirorson’s little girl can do.” Jand says as his eyes continue to assess you. 

A small curse leaves you as you step forward and your knee buckles slightly. The predatory look that courses over Jand’s eyes all but confirms the fact that he saw you falter and you know that he’ll use it to his advantage. 

“We both know I’m not fucking little.” You can’t help but snark back. You aren’t the tallest female in the Quadrant, but you also aren’t as small as Sorrengail. 

“And she bites back. Must be one of the reasons Riorson has kept you under his thumb.” He mocks. 

The comment has your blood boiling, people assuming that Xaden was the reason that you’ve been successful in the Quadrant. Your lack of exceptional power meaning you had to attach yourself to someone who could compensate for your deficiencies again or so that’s what everyone thought. 

It’s that anger that starts the match on the exact wrong foot for you to win. That and your bodies need to compensate for your growing fatigue. You let the fury burn through you and instead of control, you lash wildly for Jand’s middle, a move that he was clearly waiting on. Every ounce of training you practiced floating away like leaves in an autumn breeze. 

Before you know it, he’s knocked you to the ground, his shoulder digging down as you lunge forward. You try to change your trajectory, but sluggish limbs make every movement take even longer. He catches your abdomen and a thick arm wraps around your middle, pushing you to the ground, the roll having him land on top. 

“I thought you’d give me more of a fight than this.” You squirm, your anger beating like a drum between your ears. 

Your left hand slides free and with it comes the dagger that is sheathed at your thigh. You buck your hips, not worried about the look of the maneuver. It must catch Jand by surprise because he lets the movement happen, you landing on top of him, but before you can draw your blade to his throat, his hand clamps around yours. 

“Now, now. We are only starting to have a little fun.” Jand says while tearing the dagger from your arm.

You try to scramble away, but as you do, the heaviness in your limbs returns and you can’t seem to push off of the ground. Your head begins to pound, the world begins to comes in stops and starts. There’s yelling coming from the side of the mat, but that doesn’t stop Jand tearing straight for you. 

You barely sidestep quickly enough, the blade piercing through your right thigh. A pained grunt tears from your lips as your knee drives down into the mat, the sticky blood pouring from your leg making you slip. 

Instead of yeilding, you turn, trying to get the better of the male that currently has his back turned to you. Sticking out your other foot, you kick in his knee, but instead of falling forward, he loses his balance, his entire weight aiming for your now prone body.

You try to turn out of the way, but your muscles have decided they’ve had enough between your already low iron and the steady stream of blood flowing from the wound on your leg. 

The shout of your name rings in your ears right before Jand’s head lands directly on top of yours. The crack of your skull reverberating between your ears, and in the next instant your own head goes slack. 

______________________

Xaden

Walking through the flight field after their extremely hasty exit from Montserrat, all Xaden can do is rub his eyes. Exhaustion from the last two days settling in. 

‘Never again.’ He rumbles to Sgaeyl, not needing to explain any further. 

What turned into the idea to utilize the squad’s trip to Montserrat as a dagger drop had turned into his own personal fucking nightmare.

As he finally entered into the courtyard of the Rider’s Quadrant, his shoulders finally began to loosen as the thought of your face comes to his mind. 

The exhaustion begins to settle as he continues the long stretch back to his quarters. A familiar voice hitting his ears as he makes his way up to the third year's floor.

“How many days does she have left in the infirmary?” 

“The healers said that between the interruption in her tonic and blood loss, they aren’t sure how long she’ll be there. I mean she hasn’t even woken up yet.” Xaden listens as Bodhi’s voice floats from Garrick’s room. 

His eyebrows draw in concern as he listens to their conversation. 

“Well, I hope she wakes up in the next two days. I don’t particularly want to deal with my surly cousin after he’s been babysitting Sorrengail, dealing with Cat, and then adding Y/N in the mix.” 

It only takes the mention of your name for the breath in Xaden’s lungs to cease. He doesn’t think, just crashes the cracked door open with the force of his uncertainty pulsing.

“Where’s Y/N?” His voice is calm, but his nerves are vibrating as he looks between his best friend and cousin. The exhaustion from before evaporating, his attention sharpening. 

The look they exchange has nothing settling in Xaden’s composure, if anything, it now has every nerve ending on high alert. 

“Spit. It. Out.” Xaden says, looking between them. “Now!”

 “Infirmary.”

Xaden’s eyes widen as he stalks closer to Bodhi, before grabbing the lapels of his jacket and pulling him forward. 

“Explain. Now. While your ass takes me to her.” Xaden grounds out as he begins to pull Bodhi with him down the hall. 

Xaden can feel the way Bodhi swallows before beginning to recount the story. Rage begins climbing up the cage in his mind, but behind it he can feel the terror following. The uncertainty of how he will find you eating him up on the inside. 

“You were supposed to look after her.” Xaden seethes as they finally make it to the bridge to the Healer’s Quadrant. 

“I did.” Bodhi says defensively, finally pushing Xaden’s hands from his jacket. 

“Not very well if she ended up in the infirmary.”

Bodhi scoffs at his cousin’s words. “I’m not going to force my way into her room. And secondly, I tried. I tried to assuage her fears about you and Sorrengail, but I’m not you. I’m not the one who left because my dragon ‘needed to follow her mate due to the bond’. You may want to pin this on me, but I’m not the one tied to another woman’s life, while the woman I’m in love with continues to feel replaced!”

The words are like a smack across the face. Xaden wants to refute them, to explain how it's not easy to balance everything, that this was a strategic opportunity not to draw attention to their actions. Though as he goes to open his mouth, shouts from the infirmary greet his ears. 

Fear tightening across his chest, he crosses into the doors, not waiting for Bodhi. 

“Get Nolon. Her iron levels are too low, we need to see if he can help with the infection.”

No one stops to look at him, every healer focused on one room at the end of the hall. As he pushes forward, it takes every ounce of control to hold his shadows back from the terror. 

When he reaches the last room, on the bed in front of him is a girl that looks too small for the large bed. Her eyes are sunken down, the brightness of her skin hidden under a pallor he’s never seen, her chest barely rising and falling. 

Finally, someone notices him. 

“Wingleader Riorson, we need you to leave. We need a sterile environment to get the patient stable.”

He tries to register the words in his mind, but he can’t seem to do anything but stare at you. You’ve never looked weak or sickly to him, but now it's as if your well has run dry. 

A tug of his hand is the only thing that brings him back to the current situation.

“Wingleader, you can stay, but you need to be out here until we have her stable.” A familiar woman in light blue robes leads him to a chair in an empty room and she quickly turns and leaves. 

Xaden is so stunned, every movement becomes mechanical. 

‘Sit. You will be no good to her if you pass out as well.’ Sgaeyl’s voice is low, a current of worry settling into each syllable.

Xaden sits in the chair, more on instinct than awareness. He isn’t sure if it's been minutes or days, but his lungs can’t seem to take in any air. His head falls to his hands, the truth of you lying in the bed, finally landing squarely in his heart.

“I left her.” The words are mumbled, guilt and terror climbing like vines over a rotting tree. 

‘You can’t blame yourself for so-’

He shuts Sgaeyl out. She may be right, but the words offer no comfort when the woman he loves is laying still and gaunt in the bed only mere feet away. 

The sounds of the infirmary float to his ears as he strains to hear anything from where he is, but it's the creeping silence that begins to finally tear at his heart. The minute it settles, he’s on his feet, but before he can take two steps, the same healer from before walks in. 

“She’s on the road to recovery, but Wingleader, it's important that you remind her she needs to make sure she always has the tonic prescribed by the Head Healer.”

All Xaden can do is nod his head, the need to see her making his skin hot. Terror that has been clawing on his insides still runs through every nerve. 

Another healer pokes their head out of the room, the soft look on her face catching Xaden off-guard.

“You can go in now. She’s resting, but may be a little in and out.”

His strides are long, eating up the space between the chair he’s been seated in and the opening of the room. His movement falters though as he meets the threshold. She still looks pale, but her eyes seem less ravaged than before. He takes a breath as he strides forward, pulling the chair next to the head of her bed. 

The minute he sits, his head falls onto the mattress inches from her temple, but it's the fragility in her form that has him still putting some distance between them. 

“I told you that you’ve been pushing yourself too hard. I should’ve known better. I should’ve listened to the voice that told me not to go.” The words are whispered, not really for either of you, just the only words he can get through the storm of emotion. 

The semblance of space between you now seems like a never-ending ravine and to Xaden, it's unbearable. His hand slowly edges towards yours, his eyes on your face to clock any discomfort. 

His fingers slide over your upturned palm until they can wrap firmly around yours. Once your hand is fully entwined with his, he can feel the cold that has settled into the tip of each finger. His thumb strokes over every inch of skin, the contact the only thing grounding him back to the reality that you will wake up. The truth that you will be alright.

“Always so damned stubborn.” The words are both exasperation and fondness, the emotion beginning to hit him at full force. 

“Talking about yourself?” The words rasp from your throat as Xaden’s face quirks up to meet yours.

He lets his eyes search yours, left to right, taking in every detail.

For a moment, all he feels is relief. 

“We will be having words later.” Xaden’s words are quiet as to not break the spell, but the command in them is there all the same.

You huff at him, showing that you know that there’s no escaping the upcoming conversation. 

“Rest now, love.” Xaden’s other hand comes to your face, tracing the lines of your forehead softly as his other remains solidly intertwined with your fingers.

You hum in response, but your eyes close, breaths evening out again. 

Xaden lays his head next to yours, letting the quietness of the room settle around you. His own eyes fluttering closed as your scent lulls him into sleep.

___________________

Groaning, you turn on the uncomfortable bed you find yourself in. Before opening your eyes, you can smell the sharp scent of the infirmary, the scent bringing back your memories of the fight. The dream of Xaden sitting next to your bed, an undercurrent in your mind, but you flutter your eyes open to see the all too familiar sight that you told yourself you wouldn’t be seeing again for the rest of the year. 

Blinking to adjust to the light, you slowly move each of your limbs noting the comparable ease. As you sit up, you toss the covers to the side and your eyes are instantly drawn to the fresh scar on your leg. Examining it, you can’t help but realize how much deeper it is than you expected.

The shuffle of feet and bottles of the infirmary greets your ears and you know it must be morning with the heft of the voices filling the hall outside your room. Swinging your legs to the side of the bed has a grunt leaving your lips at the same time as the gentle creek of the door registers.

“There you are my dear. We’ve been waiting for you to wake up.” Your brow scrunches at the healer’s words, but you dismiss them as she steps in front of you. 

“Only need to double check everything and then you can be on your way back to the riders. I suspect there is at least one person who is very anxious to see you up and moving around.”

You huff at her words, but don’t fuss as she continues to fulfill the necessary ministrations. 

“The infection from the blade has been taken care of by Nolon. However, with the blood loss, your iron levels are still low. We’ve upped the dose of the tonic you were taking, so you may have some side effects in the next few days. If there is anything alarming, please come back and see us.” 

You nod in response and moments later you are finally headed back towards the rider’s quadrant. 

Gait stiff, you try to shake out the new scar that pulls as you walk. 

Entering the courtyard though, you are met with the one face you didn’t want to see.

Bodhi stands there and when his eyes finally catch up to you, the look he gives is definitely not impressed.

“Do you think you’ll ever be able to listen?” He chastises and it has your hackles rising. 

This isn’t the first time you’ve felt belittled for the way your body is made, but it finally the time when you refuse to stand behind other people’s worries. 

“Screw off, Bodhi. I’m not your responsibility.” The words roll off your tongue as sharp as the blades that are firmly strapped around your body. 

You don’t stop walking, you aren’t interested in apologies or any additional chastisement. Taking the steps two at a time, you swing open the door and slam it back into place. The minute the lock clicks, you take a breath, shoulders dropping. Defeat and anger warring for your attention. 

Ripping off your jacket, you throw it to the side before you let yourself fall face forward on the bed. The sheets let some of the tension still caught in your body soften slightly. Snuggling into your pillow, you try to breathe through every emotion and irritation crawling through your veins. 

The sound of boots hitting the ground has your attention moving and the irritation that was slowly leaking away returning, the following knock making your eyes narrow.

“Go the fuck away, Bodhi.”

For a moment there’s no response, though there’s no movement away from the door either. The air whooshes out of your lungs as you stand up and stride towards the door. Yanking it open with the force of your agitation, your mouth opens, ready to argue. Instead, the air whooshes out of your lungs as you are encircled by strong arms and walked backwards into your room. 

“Get off me.” The words come out between grit teeth as you struggle against a solid chest. 

The arms wrapped around you only tighten and you continue to thrash until a familiar scent hits your nostrils. As the comfort of Xaden begins to wash around you, the anger gives way to confusion. 

“I - I thought you were still in Montserrat.” The words are small as they leave your mouth. 

He buries his face in your neck as he backs you towards your bed. A ragged breath leaves him before he finally looks up at you. 

“Why? Why didn’t you take your tonic? Why didn’t you go to the infirmary and get more?” The words are rushed as if each question he’s been holding back longer than he could stand. And at each one, the anger begins to build again.

Frustration has you ripping yourself away, rage beginning to boil over like a tea kettle.

“I’m not a child!” The words are loud, your frustration straining your voice louder than you expect. “You don’t have to order me around like I don’t know my own body.”

That’s all it takes for the dam to break.

“I’m tired of this! Of having someone try to dictate the way I take care of my body! I’m tired of having a body that’s different from everyone else! Gods. I would fucking kill to just be normal for one fucking day!”

The emotions that you’ve held in since your arrival at Basgiath has this running over, unable to stop the words. Anger and frustration fuel your already short temper at constantly being perceived as different or incapable. Emotion boiling over, you can feel your skin heat, the flare of your temper burning through your skin. Turning, both hands rise to Xaden’s chest and you push back, leading him towards the door of your room. 

“I don’t need your sympathy. I don’t need to be tended to like a child. All I want is to be seen as a capable rider. Someone who’s worthy of a title I’ve earned through my own blood, sweat, and tears. Someone worth respect and fear equally.” 

Xaden continues to let himself be pushed towards your door, all the while never taking his eyes off the woman in front of him. The same heat of emotion courses through him too, but he knows that if he pushes she will only shut down even further. 

“Go, Xaden.” Your words are hard, no softness to brace the impact of the command. “I need some space.”

At those words, you feel the way Xaden tenses in your hold. Suddenly, the emotions that were burning bright only seconds ago are doused like a bucket of water over a raging fire. Looking up into Xaden’s gaze, there’s no masking the hurt and uncertainty and you realize you’ve made a mistake before he even opens his mouth.

“Alright.” The word is soft, odd, and completely unrecognizable as Xaden begins to turn. 

The fight drops out of you at once, the emotions that were ready to explode moments before turning into terror that you’ve pushed away the one person you said you never would. 

Instead of speaking, you can only watch as he walks out the door, his actions slow and the quietest click trails behind as the door closes. 

Dread washes over you. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve pushed someone away after punishing yourself for your body’s failures. Guilt slithers up your throat making it hard to breathe and there’s no way to stop the hot tears that are burning at the back of your eyes.

Collapsing onto the bed, you let your own frustrations, guilt, and exasperation free in the form of sobs that soak through your pillow. For all the times you’ve chastised yourself, fallen from your own weaknesses, and your uncanny penchant for pushing away those who only want to help you. 

You don’t know when you stop crying, when your body finally decides it's had enough, but at some point in the night you fall asleep. The single confirmation, the sharp light of dawn that crawls through your window. 

Skipping the look into your own mirror, you shower, trying fiercely to tamp down the emotion that still wants to drag you under. Weapons are strapped to your body, leather hugging you tightly the thing you focus on as you strap on your boots.

Your footsteps are sure, tighter than usual as you begin to click down the hall. Today isn’t for you to confront your demons, it's for survival. 

Arriving in the dining hall, you don’t turn to check the dais. Your head stays forward, eyes not landing on anything or anyone in particular. 

“There she is.”  The oily voice that you are now too familiar with floats to your ears. “Didn’t need your protector this morning?”

Your spine stiffens as your body registers the need for a fight. Fists curling at your side as you turn and meet Jand’s face. Rage boils as his words find home in the crack of your normally hardened armor. Instead of ignoring it and stepping back, you lean into the anger.

You turn fully, eyes clashing with his head-on. Your boots move two steps forward, now toe to toe with a man who is no more than a bully. 

“I’m not a porcelain doll. I do not need a protector and I’d be more than happy to show that to you on the mat again.”

Jand’s eyes flash at the challenge, the spark of interest gleaming, his arm raising as if to rest on your shoulder.

“Oh sweetheart, you name the time and place and I’d be more than willing to put you on your ass.”

Before you can step back, a tendril of black slides to your shoulder, the impact of Jand’s hand never happening. The air around you begins to turn charged, colder than moments ago, yet the heat behind you registers swiftly. 

You have to contain your eyeroll when you recognize the presence behind you. 

“I suggest you get on with your morning, cadet.”

Jand must see the threat lying in Xaden’s eyes, because instead of pushing, he steps back. 

“Only proves my point, sweetheart. Must be nice to trade your body for protection. Too bad Sorrengail seems more tempting than you.”

You don’t even get to take in the words  Jand volleyed at you before the crack of his nose greets your ears. Xaden is no longer behind you, no longer in the calm control that he exuded behind you. His fist didn’t even register before hitting the other man squarely in the face. 

Your eyes widen, but instead of diffusing the situation, the tension ratchets up again. Your voice is quiet when you decide to speak.

“Stop trying to fight my battles for me, especially when the words others say are true.”

You walk out, not wanting to participate in the masculine display of dominance any longer. Though there's a war inside of you when you toss between the merits of Xaden’s actions and the fact that you know he wouldn’t do something like that if you meant nothing to him. 

Moving to the courtyard, you let the breeze settle across your face, in need of something to diffuse the adrenaline still pumping in your veins. 

“I’m sorry.” 

The words are not loud, not hurried, but hold a weight. Turning, your gaze finds Xaden, a look of remorse on his normally stoic face. 

“You never need me to fight your battles. Not between you and your body or you and anyone else.” 

You huff at his words, your gaze swinging away not in the mood to have this conversation, but it seems Xaden has other ideas. 

As his fingers guide your face back to his, the gentleness of the gesture isn’t lost on you. He gives you more than enough time to pull away if you so desire. 

“I need you to hear this. To really hear me.” Xaden continues as he leads you to the nearest alcove. He gestures for you to sit, and you do, gaze turning up to his. 

Your eyebrows shoot up when he kneels in front of you, taking both of your hands in his own. 

“I don’t think you realize how strong you are.” Your eyes roll at the words, but Xaden pulls your chin down, stopping the movement. “You’re going to listen to me without an attitude and then you can talk.”

The demand has you bristling, but the look in his eyes stops you before the retort leaves your mouth. 

“You need to stop feeling sorry for yourself.”

Your jaw drops as you look back at him, now in complete shock. His hand squeezing yours is the only thing that drags you back to the present. 

“You need to see yourself through my eyes.” He continues as you slump slightly. “All you see is deficiencies, constantly comparing yourself to others that will never be you. That will never overcome the obstacles that you cross everyday.”

“But instead of crumbling, you’ve stood, even on days when that simple task was a challenge. You’ve trained harder than those that have perfectly functioning bodies. Reach out to others that don’t deserve your care.”

Xaden scoots closer, his hand now cupping your cheek as he looks up at you.

“I know that my words will never diminish the hurt, the pain, or the way your body betrays you.” There’s no stopping the tear that rolls down your cheek. 

“And I may be overprotective and annoying trying to remind you to eat and take your tonic, but -” He stops, a long breath escaping him. “I love you and I just want you to feel as good as possible, no matter the less than ideal consequences of the quadrant.”

“I know you asked for space and I will give it to you. But please never doubt your space next to me or the strength that you carry without me.”

Xaden rises and turns, but not before squeezing your hands again. The featherlight touch of a kiss landing on your forehead. 

Before he can take two steps, you rise from the bench where you were perched, hand tugging at his wrist and arms wrapping fiercely around his bicep.

“I’m sorry.” Your words are whispered, the tone equally as devastated as Xaden’s own. Your face burrows in the crook of his arm shame radiating where there was once only frustration. “I don’t really want you to go. I’m just tired of always being different.”

He doesn’t try to refute you with words, instead only wrapping you into his arms, your body tucked securely into his own. 

“You don’t have anything to apologize for.” He says into your hair. “I just want you here. Happy and as healthy as can be. You are my world and it wrecked me to know that I wasn’t here when you needed me. It won’t happen again.”

Your hand curls into his shirt as you pull back slightly. “You can’t promise that.”

“I can and I will, especially since on the other end of it, I get you.” 

The words barely have time to leave his lips before he leans down and steals the breath from your lungs. 

The kiss is love and care all wrapped up in his warmth. Each movement is an equal challenge and answering defeat. You melt towards him, his smell, his warmth, and the care of his arms around you pulling you away from the emotions that had settled into the pit of your stomach. 

“If there is one thing that I want you to never doubt, it is my love for you.” Xaden says as he pecks your lips sweetly one last time. “But, we do need to go get the rest of your tonics from the infirmary.”

You lose the battle with yourself as the smile rolls across your face. You shove him slightly, the playfulness returning to your gaze. Xaden only answers with his familiar smirk before grabbing your hand and leading you towards the Healer’s Quadrant. 

.

.

A sigh leaves my lips as I watch the three boys. Two that are trying their best to wrestle Xaden into their antics, but for anyone that knows Fen’s son well, there’s a reluctance to every movement. It breaks my heart to see the way the carefree boy has seemed to become hidden behind the loss of his mother. 

“Boys!” Three heads turn my way as I walk slowly towards the field. 

Two huge grins stare back at me and the quirk of the lips from the other. I let my own smile bloom, a bright shine across my face meant to reassure the one who has hidden for too long. 

“Mama! Aunt Franny!” The three boys break out into a run, aimed straight for me. 

My eyes widen slightly, but I brace before the inevitable impact when they finally realize they can’t stop. Each of them tries, but before they can, feet begin tumbling and the inevitable collision begins. 

I hit the ground with an umph and three growing boys continue their tumble over me. I lay there, resigned as they all push and pull at each other. Grumbles, hissing, and shoving following quickly in their wake. 

“Get off me, Bodhi!” Garrick’s unmistakable voice busts out as I finally sit up on the back of my hands. 

“I will once Xaden gets his foot out of my face.” Bodhi hisses in return. 

“Fuck!” 

The word tumbles out of Xaden’s mouth. 

Silence fills the chaos instantly. Two heads whip towards the mound of black hair currently trying to regain his balance. Xaden doesn’t stop, oblivious to the word he let slip in front of his own Aunt. That is, until his eyes meet the wide ones of his cousin and best friend. 

I watch all the color and fight drain from his face as he withers in front of me. His head hangs as if he is aware of the punishment lying right around the corner.   

Finally arising to my own two feet, my head tilts, sorrow lining my gaze as I look at my own nephew’s back. 

The last few years have been hard, with challenges that no child deserves, yet he still exudes a strength that no child should have to face. 

Instead of berating him, like I know he’s expecting, I guide my hand to his chin and turn his face towards me. I can see the tears shining, his eyes growing glassier by the second. 

My gaze rises to the two boys behind me, their own looks of sorrow plain. 

“Why don’t you boys go inside, I believe Ms. Adira may need some help with things in the kitchens.” Both Garrick and Bodhi turn, their shoulders slumping, but I know those looks won’t last when they figure out what’s going on. 

As I watch the boys trudge away, a drop of wetness hits the hand that is still cradling Xaden’s face. A sad smile touches my lips as I look down into the face of a boy that has lost his childhood and the warmth of both of his parents far too soon. 

“Xaden.” My voice is soft, coaxing as I try to get him to lift his gaze, but it seems my tone has the opposite effect. 

His tears start falling in earnest now, the tide of emotion too hard for him to handle on his own. It takes less than two seconds for me to wrap my arms around him and tug him into my chest. 

I don’t fill the void with words or cajoling, because I know that isn’t at all what he needs. He’s heard his father’s reassurances, heard the way the others tell him he’s so strong and held together. A true duke given form in a child.

But, I see my nephew. I see a boy who has taken on things that are far too serious for a child still trying to figure out his place in the world around him. The boy that has been made a leader before he could even deign to decide his favorite food. 

His sobs break free as I slowly rock him back and forth, my hand trailing up and down his back trying to give comfort to his broken heart. 

If there is one thing I will forever regret, it's not fighting harder when it came to my brother and his contracted wife. Every line written in the pages of the contract never took into account the heart of the child that they were to bear. Never once gave an exception for how the loss of his mother would feel at the tender age of ten. 

Instead of trying to stop the tears, the grief that I know he has tried to hide from everyone, I let him cry. Let his hands dig in painfully at my waist as if he cannot bear to let me go, like I’m the only thing that keeps him grounded when he’s falling apart. 

My face buries into his hair, my own tears of the unfairness of the entire situation falling silently as he tries to compose himself. 

Malek only knows how long we stand in the meadow. An aunt comforting her only nephew in the best way I possibly can. 

Eventually, his tears subside, the grief growing into a tiredness I know he’s felt since his mother’s silent departure in the night. But I still don’t let go, not until he requests it. Because Xaden does not request comfort. He commands and leads, exuding a control that no fourteen year old should possess. Though, beneath it all, I know it's artificial, a mask he’s crafted to receive praise from his father. A way he can exude the stoic leadership he sees in the men around him. 

His heart was broken by his mother’s absence and though I’ve tried, I’ll never be her. I’ll never be the one who used to sing him lullabies at night or the one who knitted a blanket to comfort him when his father was called away on business for Aretia. 

I can stand by him and let him lean on me, but his father’s own lack of feeling towards Talia’s loss has hardened Xaden. 

“I”m sorry, Aunt Franny.” The words are small, remorse tied into shame. 

My blood boils at the fact that this young boy has been marred from feeling anything, that he believes the grief that he has every right to feel is something he should hide.

“Xaden.” My words are firmer now, fierce, though still laced with the calm he needs. “Never, and I mean never apologize for your feelings.”

He looks up to me, his cheeks still wet with the tracks of his sobs, nose a mess, and eyes bloodshot from the force of his emotion. For a moment, we stare at each other, he gives a slight nod, but I refuse to accept that. 

My hand finds his chin again, sliding tightly under it to bring his gaze back to mine. 

“You can play pretend with everyone else, Xaden Riorson, and you may think you have everyone fooled. But, I’ve been with you since the moment you were born. I know when the twinkle in your eyes is gone, the one that’s only ever meant mischief for the two boys that are more loyal to you than their own parents.”

He scoffs, trying to turn away from my prodding, but I refuse to let him. 

“You may be the heir to a dukedom, with a father that personifies the sturdy rocks of Riorson House, but you are not made of stone. Do not let the faults of others bring down your sweet spirit, Xaden. Never let yourself feel like you can’t show grief, love, or happiness, because when you become someone who won’t feel anything but anger, you will only lose yourself.”

The words settle heavy between us. A conversation that is far too philosophical for the average fourteen year old boy, but I can see the gears in Xaden’s mind working. The truth being filed into that wonderfully devious and sweet mind. 

I know my own nephew can be a menace. He’s proven himself that time and again, but behind the mischief and tough exterior, his heart just wants to be loved. 

I resign myself to the fact that I will continue doing whatever I can in my power to show him that love, as if he were Bodhi. To try to bridge the gaps that I know my brother will leave behind. 

Determination settling, I give him a slight tug towards the gates of Riorson House. 

“Come on, you little menace.” I say as we begin walking, my arm thrown over his shoulders, tugging him with me. “Let’s go check on those two tagalongs of yours before they get themselves into too much trouble.”

The walk back to the house is quiet, peaceful even, but even I can hear Xaden’s mind whirring. I know well enough that he won’t want the boys to see that he’d been crying. 

“Go splash your face with the water and meet us in the kitchens.” 

Xaden nods as he runs towards the bathing chamber, excitement and worry mixing in his eyes. I continue my own trek and stop in front of the familiar door, listening to see if there is any movement. 

When satisfied there is complete silence, I turn and wait for my nephew to join me. In seconds his familiar light is back in front of me, the sadness all but wiped from his eyes. 

“Now, Ms. Adira was wanting some help today. Hopefully Garrick and Bodhi haven’t caused any crises while we’ve been gone.”

I try to keep my face neutral, but I can feel the slight twitch of my lips as I begin to push the door open. The silence that greets our ears has Xaden quirking a brow as the dark kitchen comes into focus. 

Seconds later, candles are thrusted forward, servants filling the kitchen, along with an overly-pleased Bodhi and Garrick. 

And in the center of the preparation table, sits an enormous chocolate cake with fourteen candles waiting to be lit. 

My heart explodes as the look on Xaden’s face turns to pure wonder. It's as if he doesn’t know where to look first and the smile that spreads is a stark contrast to the tears that were falling only a short time before. 

Adira begins lighting the candles and a raucous chorus of “Happy Birthday” rings out with Fen, Arthur Tavis, and my husband following in through the servants entrance. 

The wonder in Xaden’s eyes is staggering and I pray to Amari that he can retain as much of that joy as possible in the inevitably taxing future he has in front of him. Fen comes around and hugs him after Xaden dutifully blows out each and every candle. 

Father and son share a few words, before the other men come and clasp Xaden on the back wishing him felicitations as they do. 

Bodhi and Garrick are last, both almost tackling Xaden to the ground, but the infectious laugh that flies from him has everyone’s cheeks splitting. 

Decadent chocolate cake is sliced and, as if on cue, the boys begin arguing about who got the largest piece. 

I settle into my own seat, eager to not only taste the cake, but to truly enjoy this moment of celebration that seems to become more fleeting as time passes. 

As people finish their slices, they begin to file out one by one, but not before stopping to impart birthday wishes to Xaden again. I sit back, relaxing as all the boys tuck into a second piece and let the small sounds of bickering and forks clicking plates fill my ears. 

I’m brought out of my reverie when a hand taps my shoulder and Xaden stands before me slightly sheepish. I give him a wide smile and open my arms in acknowledgment of what he’s finding hard to say. 

While tucked into my chest, I hear the faint murmur of his voice. “Thank you for a wonderful day, Aunt Franny. But, most of all, thank you for being you.”

I squeeze him a little tighter before pulling back to look at his face. 

“I love you, Xaden Riorson. And although you may be turning into a man before my eyes, you will always have a place in my heart, no matter how old you grow.”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, he hugs me again, tighter than before. I lean down close to his ear, with words that are only for him. 

“And if you ever need to cry, to grieve, to feel, or just a shoulder, always - and I mean always, come find me.”

Xaden’s face beams when he pulls back, a warmth that I’ve missed so much in the last few years. 

I know that I’ll never replace his mother or be able to command like his father, but I will always love him. I smile as he departs, wondering about the man he’ll become, the love I hope he will find, and the thoughtful leader I know he is destined to be. 

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A stern huff leaves his lips as Xaden makes his way out of the pit. Adrenaline coursing through his veins, although it wasn’t much of a fight. Turning, his eyes immediately land on a pair of hazel ones that he wasn’t expecting, at least not yet.

Moving from the floor of the arena, his eyes scan the riders in front of him, but they never land on the one person he’s looking for. Blowing out a sigh of frustration, his aggravation only rises as steady paces bring him closer to Violet.

“You’re early.” Stating the obvious to her doesn’t do anything to push through the entangled feelings between them.

“Complaining?” Violet challenges, obviously looking to push as usual.

“No. Just wasn’t expecting you so early.” He tries to state as matter-of-factly as possible. Irritation is bubbling under the surface though, as he had other plans this morning that he’ll no longer be able to complete.

Violet’s eyes narrow as she continues to stare back at him, though there’s no missing the fire that still stokes in her eyes, attraction making her pupils dilate. Xaden would be lying to himself if that fire didn’t make him want to kiss her and wipe the defiance off her face, but with the way everything has begun to unravel, the heat that was there mere weeks ago has seemed to wane.

The feelings at least.

Distance peeling back the truth that perhaps the heat of attraction was their only driving force.

Having hours of time to himself while trying to prove his worth at a new outpost has given him plenty of time to peruse over the memories of the past year. Left alone with his thoughts and the lingering impossibility of seeing her daily has begun to place a larger crack in the fissure of the relationship, or at least what was left of it.

Neither one of them is willing to give in on their own personal wants and desires. She desires complete honesty, that he can’t give her, no matter the trust he has that her shields are strengthening. And Xaden truly wants someone who can love and be with him despite the secrets he’s forced to keep, in spite of all the weight that seems to accumulate on his shoulders. At least someone to help carry the burden, even if it isn’t taken from him.

The constant question of whether they are together or not has worn on the last tether of his patience. It isn’t the first time he’s wondered if it was truly a relationship between them or just their dragon’s bond that brought them together. He’d be dismissing Violet if he claimed the passion they’ve shared wasn’t electric, the control slip of sex a freedom he hadn’t had before, but is that truly a reason to stay? Xaden has never been one to cloud lust with emotion, yet with her it seems that’s the only way to move forward. And if he’s honest with himself – it’s not enough.

The passion. The loss of control. The heat between them – just isn’t enough anymore.

Moving through the halls of the fortress in Samara, he glides with a purpose, boots not stopping until they come to rest in front of the door to his private rooms. Opening the lock, Xaden pushes the door open and gestures for Violet to enter.

Once they are inside, there’s no way to escape the tension that has settled inside the small space. He walks towards the window of the room and look at the skies, knowing that this time is taking away from the drop that he is supposed to be completing with Garrick.

“Am I staying with you?” Violet’s voice breaks the silence from behind him and he sighs to himself before turning around.

“I’ll leave that decision to you. I’m not going to force you to stay. If you’d like your own room, I’ll make sure to see that you have a private room assigned for your weekends here.” Xaden watches as Violet nods before continuing.

“Why don’t you take a shower?” He asks while pointing a finger at the private bathing chamber. “I’ll go and grab some food, but I have something I need to do. I’ll be back soon.”

Without waiting for her response, Xaden turns and heads back out the door from where he just came, but not before grabbing his flight jacket and swords at the door.

Striding back down the hall, he begins walking at a brisker pace than normal, hoping that he hasn’t missed everything. As soon as he passes through the gates, Sgaeyl is waiting, and he doesn’t stop his strides immediately mounting and settling in the familiar seat.

The flight doesn’t take more than ten minutes, but as they descend, Xaden can only see Garrick and Chradh waiting in the usual meeting spot.

“You’ve already missed her.” Garrick’s voice floats to him from behind and Xaden curses under his breath.

Garrick’s hand comes around and he holds out a folded piece of parchment. Xaden’s brows furrow as he turns and looks at him.

“A letter for you. Y/N said it was about time you started learning more about her – you know, since now we know she’s one of us.” Xaden is floored. He hadn’t received a personal letter from anyone outside of his tight-knit circle in years and even then, they were fleeting. The last one he received still lies in his side drawer, unopened, Liam’s familiar scrawl taunting him. 

The thought of Liam sends a sharp jolt of grief through Xaden as he takes the parchment from Garrick’s outstretched hand.

“Anything else that you need to impart? How did the drop go?” Xaden questions as he feels the hefty weight of the note in his hand.

A snort leaves Garrick, which has Xaden’s head turning again. “That was the smoothest drop I’ve been a part of - especially one where Cat was present.”

Garrick turns facing Xaden fully now. “Maybe it’s time for her to take over drops and you can stay out of it. It would be nice not to have to resort to the stalemate that seems to follow you everywhere.”

Something about the words makes Xaden’s heart settle and his blood heat all at the same time. Here’s the man who agreed with him that they’d start doing the drops in the first place and now he’s saying Xaden is dispensable.

“Good to know that my presence and skill is unnecessary.” Xaden knows Garrick doesn’t miss the snark in his tone.

Garrick holds his hands up in surrender while turning to him. “It wasn’t a slight Xaden, but dealing with the fliers and their attitude is already enough. Plus, you have enough going on with Sgaeyl and trying to keep Violet out of it, don’t you think?”

He pauses as if in thought. “I mean, I figured this would be an advantage in the long run. Y/N and I deal with the drops, and you can focus on keeping Sorrengail alive and recruiting for Aretia. Besides, you’ll need to pull back from the slog soon enough anyway. If things do change, you know as well as I do, that you’ll be the Duke of Aretia eventually.”

There’s no denying that Garrick’s right. Xaden knows himself; he’s been overextended for more years than he cares to admit and with Violet, it’s only added another layer of intricacies. Letting go is what a good leader would do, delegate the smaller tasks to those who can complete them better, but something gnaws at his gut at the thought of not being able to have their backs.

“I’ll consider it.” Xaden muses as he looks back at Sgaeyl. “Would you mind distance wielding back to the fortress.”

Garrick quirks a brow at me, though he gives a curt nod.

‘Go have your time with Tairn. I’ll return with Garrick and Chradh in a bit.’ He tells Sgaeyl as he feels her agitation through their bond.

‘It is not wise to be out here without me. I will not be able to save you – ‘ He cuts her off before she can finish her thought. She’s more than aware that he’s not interested in getting back to Violet just yet.

‘I’ll be fine. I won’t be long.’ She turns and her eyes narrow before she bolts straight up into the morning sun, showcasing her irritation with him.

Without waiting for Garrick’s inquiry into why he let Sgaeyl go without him, Xaden marches further into the dense tree line. Finding the familiar fir tree, he lets himself sink to the ground, the letter burning a hole in his hand, begging for him to read it. Cracking the seal, he opens the parchment and is shocked to see several pages of writing.

Dear Xaden- After knowing you for three years, it would be remiss for me to leave you with the little information that we had the time to discuss. I’m more than aware of your need every scrap of information, even though you hold your own close. I don’t want you to think that there is any reason to doubt my intentions, so I hope learning a little more of my heritage will satisfy both your curiosity and doubt. Feel free to share this information with Garrick or anyone else you trust, or keep it to yourself, I’ll leave that up to your discretion.

Before even getting into the letter, Xaden knows he will not be sharing this information with anyone. He grasps the parchment tighter as if someone is going to snatch it from him, uncertain as to why he feels the need to guard it, but it doesn’t loosen his grip.

The sudden thought hits him. This is the first letter that anyone other than those he considers family has dared to write to him, with no provocation, no orders, no discussion of rebellion or venin, just purely for him to enjoy. Even with all the relationships of his past, no one has ever taken the time to take a pen to paper and share their own life. Each person has made Xaden drag information from them regarding their childhood, their stories, at least those who he did not grow up with. Yet, here she is willingly penning a letter to let him get to know her as best she can.

Before Xaden registers the action, his hand rubs over his chest, a tightness there that isn’t due to fear or anger. Taking a deep breath, he delves back into the letter.

Time passes without his notice as his eyes continue scanning the letter, the stories she shares bringing a smile to his face that he only ever seemed to give her.

“That must be some letter to have you smiling like that. I don’t think I’ve seen that look since we were sixteen.” Garrick’s voice cuts through the silence bringing Xaden away from the parchment still gripped in his hands.

Xaden scoffs at his dig, but can’t deny the point, smiling has become somewhat of an exception, for him at least.

“I do believe that is none of your business.” Garrick’s eyes rise at Xaden’s response, though he doesn’t continue to push.

“Ready brother? My patrol starts in a few hours and I’m not sure if I’d be able to disappear.” Garrick responds as he steps further towards his best friend.

Xaden nods, though the thought of returning feels like anchors have been tied to his feet, the bond of his dragon weighing on him more than ever before, the complications of his relationship with Violet playing on repeat.

With a firm grasp of his hand, Xaden feels the familiar pull of Garrick’s distance wielding pulling them in the direction of Samara. As soon as he blinks, his eyes are opening to the familiar woods that surround the outpost.

‘Tairn’s rider gets restless with your departure and disappearance.’ Sgaeyl’s voice slithers through my mind as I walk towards the open portcullis.

‘Well, she’ll just have to deal with it.’ The words reverberating as Violet’s conviction of no longer loving him shakes his skull.

As he enters Samara, he can feel his own heart shutter. The walls he’s spent years perfecting reinforcing themselves against the girl who was so willing to rescind her declaration.

______________________

Xaden stares into the night that is slowly cloaking him in the familiar shadows of midnight. He can feel the tension in his shoulders, his last encounter with Violet playing on repeat in his mind. The constant questions, the want to be near her, yet desire to be away a pulse he can’t seem to separate. Yet, as his head swivels to the left, every single thought evaporates like the dew against the morning sun.

Her strides are confident, sure, as she paces towards him. It’s the smile on her lips though that has his walls falling to the wayside, the ability to hide his own smile nonexistent.

“You look awfully pensive tonight, Lieutenant.” Y/N’s words have their familiar way of disarming him, the small huff of laughter impossible to hide.

“Says the girl that hides secrets better than I do.” Though he never thought it possible, her smile seems to only grow brighter.

“Well, someone has to get rid of that ever-present dour look on your face and give you a real challenge.” She snaps back, a hint of playfulness in her tone as she finally stands toe to toe with him.

Now it’s an entirely too real laugh that bursts from him, one filled with the kind of warmth that lingers in the memories of his childhood.

“Trouble in paradise?” Her brow quirks as she gestures for him to go back to his seat on the dark tree line.

It’s as if a cold bucket of water has been plunged over him. Her words hitting the sore spot that seems to be alive, an aching cavern he just wants to close.

“I don’t think I’ll ever find paradise, especially not this way.”

Her eyes turn pensive, as if trying to decide exactly what to believe from his mouth.

“You do know this is your relationship too.” She says in a knowing tone. “She gets to feel however she wants. Her feelings are valid, her fears, and concerns. But, that should never come at the cost of understanding that the person on the other side has responsibilities and priorities too.”

“I didn’t come here for a lecture.” Xaden can’t help but snark, though it lacks any heat.

“No, you’re here because you feel the need to carry on a legacy that was dumped in your lap at the age of seventeen.” The way she says the words without preamble, without judgment, as just facts have the weight on his shoulders slumping.  “Something I know myself well.”

“Did you question my intentions when you find out about my truth? My own involvement with the revolution without your notice? The ways I could have put everyone you saved in jeopardy. Did you resent me for not sharing everything I couldn’t say, just because I was trying to keep others safe? Keep you safe?”

For a moment, he doesn’t have a response. Xaden only sits there, the questions of his own thoughts flitting through his mind, each instance returning the same answer.

“No.” The answer is simple, plain. Just one word that settles in between them.

“Now, she had more things to deal with in the beginning with learning the true villain, learning what had been hidden from her for her entire life – from her own parents and brother no less. But now, it’s been months, months that she’s had to come to terms with the enemy, hell, she experienced it firsthand.”

“At some point you either trust someone or you don’t.” She continues with a shrug. “We aren’t guaranteed tomorrow, not even the next five minutes, not in this war, and wasting time being fearful of the truth is just going to tear you both apart.”

“And do you trust me?” He says, not knowing why he needs the answer so badly.

Her head turns, a soft look he’s never seen before crossing the features he’s spent so much time recently reflecting on.

“With everything I am.”

His breath hitches at the answer. He expected her to agree, but he never expected the way the simple words cut through him.

“Why?” The word is quieter than intended, the need to understand how he can break through her walls so easily eating at him.

“Easy.” She says as she begins to stand. “You wouldn’t risk your own life for the measly amount of daggers that we give to the fliers if your intentions weren’t pure. You wouldn’t put the lives you are responsible for in jeopardy, if you weren’t sure you were making a difference. Besides, I’ve taken enough time to get to know you over the last three years. Everyone else may see the ruthless, brooding, hard ass, but I’ve seen you choke up over losing someone, the way you push through when all you want to do is stand up for another child of the Apostasy that doesn’t deserve someone’s ire. Seen the control it takes when someone dares to challenge a child just for a mark on their arm.”

“As much as you will fight me, you’re good, Xaden. But with all that good, comes someone that isn’t afraid of making tough choices. Sometimes they aren’t savory, sometimes it’s another blemish to an already marred soul, sometimes others may hate you for what you have to do or say, but that is the burden a leader bears.” She holds her hand out, waiting for his to land in her own. “Though the true mark of a good leader is to lean on those he trusts implicitly, especially when the world becomes too much.”

He goes to retort, to pull her back, tell her that she’s the one that is a better leader with the way that she can boost morale with just a few short statements. Though the screech that slices through the air has his own head swiveling to the newly arrived guests. He feels a quick squeeze to his hand before she withdraws her own.

Xaden takes three large strides forward, enough to stand ahead of her and block her slightly from view. He hears her scoff as she takes a step forward and settles next to him. He doesn’t miss the words that escape from under her breath.

“You don’t need to save me, you know. I can handle it, have been handling it without your knowledge. I’m not the General’s daughter, not important enough to be considered a worthwhile prisoner.”

He wants to turn. To tell her that her safety is crucial to him, and that’s the reason he stands in front, not because he thinks her incapable in any sense of the word. The words die though when three figures clad in familiar brown begin to step forward.

Unfettered irritation slithers through him as Syrena and Catriona’s familiar gaits come forward, Syrena’s second stepped slightly behind the Cordella pair.

“Riorson, L/N. How many this time?” Syrena’s voice cutting the silence, her familiarity with the girl next to Xaden striking a chord in him, he didn’t know was there.

“Hello to you too, Syrena. You should know by now it’s the same as always.” Y/N’s voice is level, her facts plain as if the questioning is part of their usual game.

“I thought Aisereigh said that Montserrat would be producing more.” Catriona’s voice cuts through the night, making Xaden’s fingers twitch. Her eyes are sharp as they look towards Y/N.

“Watch your tone.” The words are out of Xaden’s mouth before he can stop himself. Catriona quirks a brow at him, the only indication that he’d just given himself away. All too familiar tendrils of magic begin clawing at his mind like the curious claws of a kitten. Eyes narrowing, he steps forward again.

“That’s enough Catriona. The mind games will not work any longer.” His voice is a blow that he hopes she absorbs, a finality between the two of them. Though in some part of his mind, Xaden realizes that’s a wistful thought. 

Before he can think too much further on it though, the strands of her magic seem to disappear, his focus turning to the elder Cordella. There’s no missing the way Catriona’s eyes have narrowed on the girl standing next to him, though Y/N doesn’t even give her the time of day.

“They are, but you will have to wait for the next drop. The higher ups were crawling around the forge day and night checking the numbers and firing of the forge there.” Xaden’s head turns as he listens to her continue, concern causing his hands to ball into fists.

“Besides, until Captain Sorrengail is moved, we need to be careful. A drain of the wards would tip her off that these daggers were being pulled.”

‘Don’t.’ Sgaeyl’s voice reverberates in Xaden’s mind as he goes to open his mouth, the words to ask her on the tip of his tongue. For not the first time, he wishes he was able to communicate via his mind to someone else besides just Violet.

‘She shouldn’t be taking unnecessary risks. She’s alone in Monserrat.’ Xaden can feel the way his mental voice shakes, fury and helplessness warring in a fashion he’s unaccustomed to.

‘You must trust her. Did you not just tell her you do?’

Sgaeyl’s words have their intended effect, and he closes his eyes, brows pinching in annoyance. This isn’t the first time his dragon has had to make him see reason, especially when dealing with a woman he -.

Xaden stops the thought before it can form. Now isn’t the time to be deciding on how the beautifully fierce woman next to him fits into his life.

“This is what we have for now. Garrick will be in touch with the next drop coordinates.” Xaden’s tone is firm, though his chest is tight, his back pulled taut with the tension lining his bones.

“I’ll wait for more information from you, L/N. The other information you’ve been gathering has been helpful in knowing where to stage our drifts.” Syrena nods to Y/N and she repeats the move in response.

Uncertainty begins to crawl up Xaden’s spine like the bittersweet vines suffocating the trees of the forests near Aretia. He doesn’t let his mask fall though, uninterested in letting Catriona see his feelings for the woman next to him any more than he already has.

With a tense exchange, Syrena’s second takes the daggers before the three fliers begin to back away to their own mounts.

Silently, Y/N begins to turn towards her own dragon, but before she can take one step, Xaden’s arm shoots out, his mind not registering the action before he feels the warmth of her skin beneath his palm. Fire travels up his fingers as he tugs her closer, her chest almost bumping into his own with the force of his pull.

Her eyes travel up to his, surprise written in their depths as she waits for him to speak.

“What are you doing?” The words are sharp, ice painting his normally smooth voice, a tone she’s never heard from him.

“Excuse me? I’m heading back to Montserrat before I miss my cover. What do you mean what am I doing?”

“You know damn well that’s not what I’m talking about.” Xaden can feel his chest beginning to rise and fall in a faster rhythm. His body tight with restraint.

She scoffs and turns her face away, but Xaden is quick to draw his fingers under her chin and force her gaze back to his. Rolling her eyes, she looks back at him, the color of her irises dancing.

“I don’t have sufficient time to go over everything, but Brennan is aware, as is the rest of the Assembly. We’ve been working on monitoring the movements of the higher-ranking officials and trying to pinpoint a possible correlation with any venin movements.” Her words are firm. “All military correspondence comes through Montserrat, so I’ve been intercepting letters and transcribing any pertinent information.”

Xaden’s gaze flies back and forth trying to decipher if what she’s saying is true, but there is no hesitation in her gaze.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? You could be executed without trial for being found snooping in military correspondence.”

Xaden’s voice is steel, not betraying the true turmoil that is wringing through his bones. Her stance doesn’t change, the softness he’s used to seeing from her turning to the hard edge usually reserved for battle. 

“You think I walked into this plan not knowing the consequences?” She retorts as she pulls her wrist free, hardened gold painting her irises. “Why are you angry when this is doing nothing but aiding in the revolution that you’re the leader of? This isn’t the first time someone has been utilized in their position to gather information. Do you suddenly think I’m incompetent?”

The moment her hand leaves his, the heat that had been licking up his palm evaporates like dew in the morning sun. Xaden wriggles his fingers as he tries to shake the sensation from his palm, but that doesn’t stop the way her words land like a punch.

“Of course not!” Xaden seethes as he steps closer, looming over her with as much menace as he can manage.

“Then why all of a sudden are you taken aback that there are others that are putting themselves in danger for this revolution?”

“I don’t give a fuck about the others. I only care about you.” Xaden’s breath has turned to rapid pants hands grasping her arms, desperate to feel the touch of her skin under his hands again.

She tries to step back, but he has a firm grip on her, not allowing any movement. Her eyes are wide, searching each color in his own as she seems to try and right her upside down world. Xaden watches as Y/N’s mouth opens and closes, the words she’s trying to find stuck behind her own lips. 

As sudden as her surprise is, it's masked in an instant, hidden behind something he’s never seen from her before. Xaden’s heart stutters as she begins to pull away, his stance beginning to waver, emotion warring with a tightness through his chest he can’t explain.

Apprehension coils as he watches her step back towards her dragon.

“You don’t get to say things like that Lieutenant, not in that tone, not while you still reside in someone else’s bed.”

Before he can respond, Xaden has to watch as Y/N launches onto the back of her dragon and within a second she is airborne back to Montserrat. 

Xaden can feel his own heart crawling up his throat, his breathing still rapid, his chest rising and falling as if wrestling through a battle and not only his own emotions. Heat still tingles in his palm, thoughts  a whirlwind.

‘It is her right to aid as needed.’ Sgaeyl chimes in as her talons hit the ground next to Xaden’s feet.

‘That isn’t the point.’ Xaden seethes as his eyes narrow at the blue beast beside him.

‘No, the point is that you are no longer only concerned with Tairn’s rider. In fact, I believe she may have been usurped and you don’t even realize it.’

Xaden shakes his head, slamming his shields as he mounts Sgaeyl. He knows she can burst through, but he also knows she doesn’t want to listen to him stew in his own thoughts. Especially with her comments from the previous year regarding Violet. 

Left to his own devices, he can only wonder when his own heart changed toward you from just someone he would be sad to lose to a loss he knows he wouldn’t survive.

____________________

‘Prepare for battle.’ Sgaeyl’s words are sharp, her wings sliding to a defensive tilt slicing the wind faster as they fly closer to Samara.

Xaden’s own eyes sharpen, counting the invaders that have begun to descend on the outpost. 

‘Friend or foe?’ Xaden questions as he raises his hand to wield. 

‘Unsure. Chradh confirms they have not been able to get a good look at their faces.’ 

Xaden huffs as he prepares to enter the fray. Scanning the area in front of him, he tries to assess whether there is any familiarity. It is that hesitation that costs him. 

In the next breath, pain registers, molten fire dancing through his veins as his grip slips on Sgaeyl’s back. 

Blood roars in his ears, dots dancing in his vision. Xaden almost thinks he’s lost control of his shadows, until the bands of Sgaeyl’s magic wrap around his thighs drawing his thoughts away from the pain. The next blink and his vision changes again as Sgaeyl’s jaw widens and the gryphon that caught him unaware is split clean in two. 

‘No creature will survive harming what is mine.’ Sgaeyl’s snarl rips through his mind, possession, rage, and certainty coating the venom of her words.  

His own hold on reality slips, pain lancing through his grip on consciousness. His left hand grips his right arm, desperate to hold his eviscerated shoulder together. The wind whips, an uncomfortable feeling of wind skimming bone making Xaden grit his teeth. 

Ahead, a frantic yell draws his waning attention when he sees two gryphons headed straight for a rider and group of infantry guarding the outpost. Still clinging to his mangled arm, he raises his right hand, muscles protesting at every inch of movement. Shadows pour from below and slither through the night on a collision course with the fliers. 

Before anyone takes another step, tendrils of onyx beneath them have wrapped around their throats and squeezed. He has no time for revelry though when a familiar brown dragon comes slicing through the air with three gryphons on his tail. Vision swimming between black and red, Xaden urges Sgaeyl forward, though he can feel his own power leashed as she still maintains her hold on him. 

‘Let go.’ Xaden urges as he leans forward in his seat, the throb of his wound making the blackness dance in his vision again. 

‘I will not let you lose yourself when the Loyal One is capable.’ 

Sgaeyl closes off their connection as her talons sweep one of the gryphons from the path of the brown scorpiontail. In the next breath, Xaden can feel the whip of air as both fliers are unseated and begin plummeting to the ground. 

A satisfied grin crawls across Xaden’s face before he hisses in pain. 

‘Get back to the outpost. I’m a liability now.’

Sgaeyl doesn't fight and he knows that she can feel the way his strength is waning. A sticky coating of blood begins to coat the glove of his left hand causing his grip to falter. Xaden pulls in a breath between his teeth as his right arm jostles with her movements. 

‘Maise has called for the mender. They will be here soon.’ 

The words register, but the meaning seems lost in the pain that has begun to overtake him with the crash of adrenaline. Jaw clenched tight, teeth grinding, Xaden tries to maintain control. A muffled scream echoes through his ears, it seems far away until he registers the sound falling from between his clenched lips. 

Shouts finally break way as Sgaeyl hits the ground inside the outpost. He tries to swing his leg over, but any movement is futile as his own thoughts continue to get hazy.

‘Stay seated. Your second hand will help.’

In the back of Xaden’s mind surprise registers, the impossibility of Sgaeyl letting anyone else on her back spiking, though it truly isn’t even a fleeting thought. In the next moment, rough hands wrap around his chest and Xaden tries to jerk back, but is stopped with a steady grip. 

“Calm down. I’m trying to get you off of Sgaeyl.” Garrick’s familiar timbre registers and Xaden completely sags in his hold. 

“Come on brother. You can’t give up yet.” 

The words register but it doesn’t stop the way Xaden crumples into Garrick’s hold, eyes closing from the pain as the bliss of unconsciousness takes him.

____________________ 

Xaden’s eyelids begin to flutter, the action proving more difficult than normal as the rush of sound around him comes back into focus. Footsteps sound in his ears, but he can’t tell if they are leaving or coming.

“Lieutenant Tavis, the wound is healed, though the scar will remain. Lieutenant Riorson is out of the woods, but make sure he rests. I’m more than aware of a rider’s penchant to push their luck, but his tendons and ligaments may be sore for some time.” 

“Understood.” Garrick’s familiar voice sounds in his ears, the same time a firm hand rests on his left shoulder.

Registering the retreat of the other person, Xaden finds the strength to flutter his eyes open. The sight that greets him is an unexpected one. Garrick sits in a chair next to the bed he’s lying in, head hung between his hands, a solemnity emanating off him that Xaden hasn’t seen since the execution of their parents.

“Who died?” The words rasp out of Xaden’s dry throat, but it's the swift swing of Garrick’s head that truly has his attention. 

“You almost did you fucker.” The words are harsh, but he can see the emotion in his best friend’s eyes. “Always have to play the fucking hero don’t you.”

A short laugh leaves Xaden’s lips as Garrick’s own quirk up in a smile showing off his dimples. 

“Well I had to save your ass, didn’t I?” Xaden jibes as he slowly rises to a sitting position, Garrick’s eyes tracing every movement as if he can still see the blood pouring out of Xaden’s wound. 

A silence spreads as they both stand, gazes colliding. One second there is space between them, and the next, Garrick’s arms have wrapped snug around Xaden, pulling him into a fierce hug. 

“How about no more solo heroics for a while? I don’t want to have to explain to the Assembly why they are suddenly down a member. Or a volatile lightning wielder?”

Xaden feels his shoulders tighten at the mention of the Assembly and Violet. The duty that lands heavy on his shoulders making everything taut. Garrick pulls back, but his hands still rest firmly on Xaden’s shoulders, a move that grounds both of them and proves they are both still alive.

“Truthfully though, I love you brother. You’re important to me - to our family and we need you.” The words are something they never truly say out loud, the sentiment one that threads through every interaction since they were introduced to each other at the age of four. 

Xaden takes a deep breath, trying to keep his rising emotions at bay, but there’s no way either of them can control the shine to their eyes. Xaden grasps Garrick’s shoulders, a firm squeeze conveying all the things he can’t say. 

A firm nod is all he gets in return as the two break apart. Xaden takes a step, before Garrick’s hand tugs lightly on his injured arm. 

“I know that no one would mind, but you may want to put a shirt on first.”  Xaden finally looks down as Garrick gestures at his bare chest. 

Xaden rolls his eyes before taking the offered shirt and carefully placing it on his injured before tugging the rest over his head. 

“Better?” 

“Nah, but it’ll do for now.” Xaden can’t help the mirthful scoff at his best friend before he turns and they both slowly make their way back towards the barracks, the comfortable silence of being alive with someone who knows you better than yourself settling between them.  

As soon as Xaden enters into the safety of the wards of his private room, the first full breath fills his lungs since returning to Samara. Walking to the shower, he slowly pulls the soiled clothes he’s wearing and throws them into a pile onto the floor. 

Leaning onto the wall of the shower, he lets the hot water roll over the strained muscles of his back. Turning, a hiss of breath leaves his lips when the spray hits the tender scar that now marrs his right arm. He looks down at the angry welt and tries to circle his shoulder as if working out the kink. Feeling the muscles pull and contract, there is no mistaking each nerve that had to be mended. 

Exhaustion begins to pull at every fiber as Xaden finally scrubs the last remnants of the fight and injury from his body. Pulling on a pair of pants, he lets himself fall into bed, the call of the pillow and oblivion of sleep too hard to ignore.  

‘Rest easy, my Shadow.’ Sgaeyl’s voice is light in Xaden’s mind, a comforting warmth that helps to lull him into a dreamless sleep.

____

The offended grunt that leaves Garrick’s lips tells Xaden all he needs to know. He doesn’t stop to make sure he follows, just walks towards the stairs to the fighting pit. 

‘Rest usually means for more than a few hours.’ Sgaeyl’s groggy voice floats through the bond, wary and warm. 

‘Rest is made for those whose mind can remain quiet.’ 

Xaden closes the pathway to Sgaeyl, not wanting to disturb her sleep knowing well the daggertail will not appreciate the disruption. As he enters the pits, Xaden tries to loosen the tense muscles that seem to remain no matter the amount of stretching or distraction available.

As he rolls his neck, injured shoulder slightly protesting at the movement, he hears the heavy wooden door open and shut. There’s no mistaking the slow trudge of the footsteps of his best friend. The familiar cadence transports him back to the age of thirteen, the same footsteps slightly quieter protesting being woken up when Xaden wanted to spy on the meeting his father thought he didn’t know about. 

It's that thought that has a small smile tugging at his lips that only widens when Garrick steps in front of him, hair askew and the look in his eyes more than annoyed. 

“You couldn’t possibly wait to do this at a normal hour?” Garrick’s voice is gruff with sleep, the remnants of his own rest still pulling at his features. 

“Any hour is normal for a rider. Besides, someone has to keep you on your toes. Wouldn’t want you to get sloppy.” 

The words have their intended effect when Garrick scoffs and removes his shirt. His eyes sharpen as his stance flattens across from Xaden, the sleep that was previously there nowhere to be found. 

“I’m not the one who almost had their arm lobbed off by a flier.” 

The jab is blunt, with both words and blade as Garrick moves, not letting Xaden get into his own fighting stance.

Xaden doesn’t respond with words, as the clang of his singular sword meets both of his best friends in a clash of metal and muscle. With the pressure reverberating through his arms, the sting of the injury is buried in the back of his mind as the familiarity of combat sings through his blood. 

A particularly vicious blow has Garrick stumbling back, his eyes flaring with the force. 

“What in Dunne’s name is your problem? I know for a fact that this isn’t just because a flier somehow got the best of you.” Garrick’s question lingers and Xaden can’t help when his blood fires in return, thoughts racing faster than he can settle. 

“Seriously brother, what is the matter?”

Xaden doesn’t stop, his own blood singing with the lust to bury all the ways in which his life feels like its spinning out of control. He steps forward intending to swing his elbow into Garrick’s stomach, but this time Garrick is faster. Xaden is swept off his feet, all thoughts finally seeming to quiet as he looks up at his smug best friend.

“Now I know something is bothering you, otherwise I would have never landed that.” 

Xaden’s eyes narrow and he begins to attempt to get up until a gust of wind blows him back to the floor, the air temporarily leaving his own lungs. 

“I’m not letting you up until you come clean. Did your injury affect you this much, or is this about someone of the opposite sex? A beautiful rider named Y/N, perhaps?”

The teasing look on Garrick’s face only lasts a second before he also finds himself flat on the mat, a band of shadow slowly making its way back to the edge of the training mat. It doesn’t take long before Garrick’s boom of a laugh is ricocheting off of every corner of the pits. Xaden only grumbles in return. 

Xaden sits up, extending a hand to his still tittering friend, eyes still narrowed in aggravation which only makes Garrick’s smile widen. 

“I can continue to put you on your ass if you can’t seem to get your laughter under control.” Xaden grumbles, though they both know there is no heat behind the gesture. 

Garrick raises his hands in surrender as he tries to smother his laughter. 

“Alright, alright. But are you going to come clean instead of trying to take my head off?” Garrick raises his brow, interest peaking at what could possibly have Xaden so irritated.

Instead of rising, Xaden finds himself falling to his back, eyes directed to the stone ceiling above. He knows there is no way of escaping Garrick’s questions and he’s unsure if he truly wants to. The words that she left him with only a day ago reverberating soundly in his head. 

“You don’t get to say things like that Lieutenant, not in that tone, not while you still reside in someone else’s bed.”

Xaden blows out a breath, all the fight and anger draining out of him as his mind reminds him of the way she turned away. Of the way he wanted to do nothing but pull her back and tell her she was wrong. 

“I have to choose.” The words are out before he can truly think to hide them, though there’s not a single person he trusts more than the man he can feel looking at him thoughtfully. 

“Choose what?” Garrick questions, as though he doesn’t see the whole picture.

“Maybe choose is the wrong word.” Xaden responds as he raises to a sitting position again. “Forget I said anything.”

Garrick scoffs, rising to his feet. Xaden knows that sound, he knows when Garrick is done trying to pull the information from him. The singing of Garrick’s blades is only confirmation to what Xaden already knew. Not only did he piss off the woman that he can’t stop thinking about, the woman who risks her life for his cause daily in ways that could see her killed without anyone holding the line behind her, but now his best friend. 

Anger bubbles up again as he tamps down the thought of his inability to keep the people that mean the most to him safe. At the inability to cut the Violet Sorrengail cleanly if that’s what he truly wants, but the pull of their dragons constantly has him questioning his own feelings. 

Garrick’s blade whooshes past him again, Xaden’s own thoughts coming back to focus on the fight but he can still feel the anger at pushing the people he loves away. Anger at the constant thought of not being enough, of not keeping everyone safe. The mantle handed to him as a teenager settling uncomfortably between his shoulder blades. 

Irritation hits as his elbow collides with Garrick and knocks him back down to the mat, but movement from the door to the pits has his focus changing. 

A frantic looking Violet stands there in an oversized flight jacket, eyes wild and hair a mess. 

“Violet, what are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” Her voice is panicked, eyes alight and Xaden can feel the crash of emotions through the bond. Realization clashes and he strides forward, pulling Violet towards the showers. 

“You aren’t supposed to be here until tomorrow. Please tell me you got leave.”

“Leave?!” She shouts. “Devera made it seem like you were hurt and Tairn felt Sgaeyl’s anger. I’m here because I thought you were dead!”

Xaden can see Violet’s fury building, the panic and worry bleeding from Tairn turning into something she can’t control. He turns the taps of the cold water on and pulls her underneath to bring her back to the present. 

“Why is this so damn cold?” She chatters through clicking teeth.

“Shield him out.” 

Violet closes her eyes and the relief is palpable as she finally shuts the bond with Tairn. Before he has the wherewithal to register her intentions, Violet steps forward and clenches his shirt in her fist bringing his face down to her own. 

Without thought, he tugs her into his arms and pushes her back against the stone wall of the shower. Her lips are soft, a familiar pulse that beats between them, but as the realization of the kiss hits, Xaden feels how everything has changed.

His vision flashes, the reality of his relationship with Violet settling into the recesses of his mind. The certainty of his true feelings solidifying into a wall he can no longer ignore. Before him stands a woman he was ordered to protect, who the dragons decided he had to safeguard if he wanted to live. The truth splashing like embers of a fire between his closed eyelids.

He breaks the kiss with a gasp, setting Violet down and stepping back a full step needing the clarity of the space. 

He can feel Violet’s confusion, feel the hurt that travels down their shared connection. Xaden takes a deep breath, his head hanging at the truth of the conversation that he needs to have with the woman presently standing in front of him. 

“If you’d like, I can take you to my room and you can shower while I have Garrick dry your flight gear.” Confusion flits through the hazel eyes that he used to dream about, but instead of his heart dropping at the space between him, clarity finally seems to filter through the cracks. 

“So that’s it? Were you even hurt? Or did I just fly here, completely panicked for nothing?”

Violet’s irritation is now shining through, her stubborn streak pulsing. As he lets his own lungs fill, he tries to tamp down his own rising temper before settling on giving her some of the truth. 

Pulling up the right sleeve of his shirt, he lets the still throbbing scar show on full display. Violet takes a step towards him, reaching forward as if to make sure he’s real, but as she inches forward, Xaden continues to pull back. 

It is that step that has all of the worry and care draining from her face. 

“Are you alright?” The words are more automatic than truly caring at that point, their interaction growing awkward as they both stand at the precipice of their changing relationship. 

“I’m fine, Violet.” The flinch that follows at her name is just another click in the lock of their relationship behind the truth that they may be bound by dragons, but no longer by the love they thought was between them. 

Disappointment reins in Violet’s eyes, the hazy hue turning hard. 

“What now, Xaden?” Violet’s voice drops. “You are badly injured and I fly here with an irrational dragon and this is it? Why are you continuing to pull away from me?”

Xaden’s jaw flexes, the want to hide the words that will hurt strong, but he knows there is no way to hide this if he ever wants the opportunity to chase the girl that seems to be slipping through his palms. 

“Deep down I think we both know that we were never truly right for each other.” Xaden starts and once the words leave, the shackle that has tied around him since the directive from the General seems to slip from his shoulders.

“I know that you don’t truly trust me. And now you’re the one keeping secrets because part of you wants to take some control back.”

Xaden combs a hand through his hair, a sliver of resentment beginning to settle in his chest. 

“You’ve never opened up enough for me to trust you!” Violet no longer holds the silent, docile tone of before. 

“And did you ever stop to wonder why I would guard myself? Or did you think this was something that would be solved by sex and the hope that we could both be destined according to the damned gods?”

Now it is Violet’s turn to step back as if she needs the space.

“I think it's time for us both to decide if this relationship is truly one of love or just the result of circumstances.” Xaden’s words are hard, but it takes everything in him not to grab her when he sees the devastation in her face.

Violet doesn’t let the feeling stay around long though, because in a flash the hurt is masked by stubbornness. He doesn’t miss the flicker of lightning that shines outside of the small window of the showers though. 

“Perhaps we should both take some time to decide what we want our future to look like - we are stuck together as it is, but that doesn’t mean I’ll tie myself to a man that doesn’t truly love me.”

Xaden nods in acknowledgment knowing that this is an ultimatum for their future, whether it be as a couple or just as two people who have been tied together by the circumstances that have befell them. 

___________________

As soon as Violet is settled behind the wards of his room, he shrugs into his flight jacket and heads to the flight field, hope sitting squarely behind his ribs. 

Though the ember that was alight dies as he sees Garrick enter through the gates of the outpost. Gaze raking down the body of his best friend, he looks for any marks, any indication that the meeting with the fliers had gone any way but according to plan. His mind specifically looks for a trace of blood, mind worried that if Garrick was injured, that Y/N could’ve been too. 

It's the smirk on Garrick’s face that has the scowl on Xaden’s own growing. 

“You look awfully angry for someone who reunited with his girl.” Garrick’s tone is teasing, though Xaden doesn’t miss it when he reaches into the inner pocket of his flight jacket.

“Fuck off.” It's the only words that Xaden can get between gritted teeth as he waits with baited breath for what his best friend could possibly be holding.

“Not sure why, but our dear Y/N was quite concerned for your health.” The words flit through Xaden’s mind, though he doesn’t focus on them as his eyes land on the letter with a familiar scrawl on the front.

Xaden -  I’m writing with an enormous breath of relief. I know that we didn’t part on the best terms, but I hope that you know I am always worried for your safety. If it wasn’t for my dragon refusing to fly me to Samara, I would be able to deliver this message in person.  Never fucking hesitate again.

Xaden can’t help the scoff that leaves his lips as he reads the words, his own mind conjuring the way her hand would be on her hip and the accusing look she would be giving him. 

I’m aware that you won’t - well, because you’re you - but truly, I don’t ever want to have to hear your name when listening to the death rolls.  You may not believe this, but I don’t think my heart could take it. 

At that Xaden’s own heart seems to stop for a beat, the organ skipping as his breath falters.

I’m only sorry that I wasn’t able to see you to confirm with my own eyes that you are alright.  Please forgive me for the way we left things. I know that you have someone else and as we’ve always been great friends, I hope that will never change. 

If his heart faltered before, now it's beating out of his chest. Dread that the possibility of her being his slipping through his fingers like sand before he has the ability to start.  

Keep yourself safe, Xaden Riorson. You are important and loved by more people than you could possibly imagine.  Always your partner in crime, Y/N

Without thinking, Xaden’s strides begin to head furiously towards the flight field until a strong grip squeezes his shoulder. 

“You can’t leave now.” 

Xaden jerks out of Garrick’s grasp, a glare that could melt a lesser man on his face, but Garrick’s grip doesn’t falter. 

‘We are not leaving.’ Sgaeyl’s own words are firm as she clearly will not be separated from Tairn so soon after reuniting. 

Reality hits Xaden as the truth is laid bare. He isn’t going to see Y/N and the rot that has settled between them with their last exchange sits behind his ribs making it harder to breathe. It's in that moment that he knows. Every moment he relished her sweet smile, the ways in which she took care of him, brought food when she knew he hadn’t eaten due to the never ending schedule, sitting next to him in a silence that warmed him better than any fire. The small gestures that he always took for granted, took for only another layer to their good friendship had led him to something more, something that was more than passion and a bright strike of lightning. 

“You can take me.” Xaden turns to Garrick, eyes resolute. 

Garrick’s own gaze turns knowing, the truth settling into his bones, though Xaden’s hope falls as he sees the sorrow in his best friend's own. 

“I can’t. I have duty in four hours.” Before Xaden can open his mouth to object, Garrick continues. “And for some reason I don’t think that would be enough time for you to say everything you need to.” 

Xaden knows that Garrick is right, that instead of rushing in bullheaded and ready to prove how much things have changed, it wouldn’t be received in the way he would want it. After the way they parted, the last thing Xaden wants to do is drive the wedge between them farther.

Redirecting himself, he heads for his quarters, suddenly intent on making sure she understands what she means to him, even if the only way he can convey it is in a letter.

When the door opens though, his true reality settles back in as Violet stands there, hair damp and curling faintly at the edges. Once, the sight would have stopped him in his tracks, would’ve erased every thought from his head except all the ways he could think to worship the woman in front of him. But, as he stepped further into the room, his mind was focused only on where to find the nearest writing utensil and parchment.

Though the minute his eyes meet the stack laid on his desk, he stills.

“Nothing to worry about. That’s what you said, wasn’t it?” Violet asks as she strides closer to his back. “Friends don’t normally write to each other this much, do they?”

At first Xaden feels the prick of being exposed as if he’s been galavanting in a relationship behind Violet’s back, guilt turning to chains. But those emotions are short lived as his mind winds through the letters that are now stacked on his desk. Each one purely information on a woman that he never realized held more secrets than he did. 

Guilt turns to righteous anger as he realizes that every single line that he had cherished as a memory meant only for him was now on display for a woman who repeatedly confirmed that she did not trust him. A woman who shut him down when every single decision he had made was always in her interest, to back up the favor that he promised to fulfill, to keep her safe and healthy. 

Xaden knew then that every single thing he had built with Violet was as tenuous as a house of cards. The substance of trust and mutual will to understand each other, non-existent and he was no longer willing or wanting to utilize sex as the only way to move past their issues. 

Picking up each piece of parchment, he backed towards the door, words failing as the anger finally began to pump through his veins, like a live wire of power with no way out. Back hitting the door, he finally found the words. 

“I’m done, Violet.” Xaden raises the stack in his hand, waving them forward. “Every single word written in these letters are words of a friend. Someone who wanted to open up and show me every inch of themselves without ever asking for anything from me in return.”

Closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, he continues.

“The woman who wrote these letters would never give in to anyone that wasn’t fully available. And if you truly knew me, you should know that I care too much about both of you to put you in that position. I may not be able to control my changing emotions, but I can control actions.”

With those final thoughts, he slides out of his door and in the direction of the captain’s quarters. Soon enough his hand is rapping on the door of a woman he never thought he’d be approaching. The door opens slowly, and there’s no way for Mira to hide her irritation. 

“Riorson, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Mira drawls, the disdain clear in her voice.

“You need to come get your sister.” At his words, he doesn’t miss the way Mira’s eyebrows jump, the minute the words registering her footsteps are already out her door. 

“What do you mean come get her? She isn’t due here until tomorrow.” 

“It was Tairn’s distress. Devera enlightened Violet that I had been injured in the attack and once Tairn registered that he overwhelmed her.” Xaden’s answer is clinical, no warmth in the delivery.

Mira looks back at him then, curiosity peaking in her gaze, but Xaden knows she would never approach him with the questions swirling in her mind. 

Xaden opens the door to his quarters and leaves Mira standing at the door. There’s no mistaking the crumpled look on Violet as he walks in, emotion warring. “I think it's best if you stay with your sister tonight.” 

Violet’s shoulders fall further as soon as the words are out of Xaden’s mouth and his fists clench at his sides at being the one to distress her. 

‘Do not give false hope if you have made your decision.’ Sgaeyl slips through his shields as his emotions war with the sadness in Violet’s gaze.

Realization seems to dawn in Violet’s eyes as she turns away and grabs the few meager items she had grabbed before she left. Xaden doesn’t miss the accusation in Mira’s eyes before the door closes behind them. 

The moment it's shut firmly, wards buzzing with a finality of magic, Xaden slumps onto the side of the bed. His head falls to his hands, the truth of everything barreling through him. An impossible situation he never thought he’d find himself in. 

‘It is time for you to rest, nothing else will change for the night.’ Sgaeyl tries to lull him, but there’s too many emotions warring for him to even attempt to sleep. 

Moving to his desk, he finally removes a piece of parchment and begins to lay each word he wasn’t able to say out loud in ink. Fury at himself for distressing two of the three women in his life that he would lay down his life for, anger at the place he finds himself in, constantly leading to disappointing someone that holds the pieces of his heart together.

But for the first time in months, the truth of the person who holds the majority has morphed into a clarity he didn’t see in the last year.

His eyes roam his disheveled desk as he settles, but a piece of parchment that has fallen to the floor catches his eye and the passage makes his heart squeeze.

You may not want to admit it, but you are just like Riorson House.  You stay strong enough for the weak, even when the winds of destruction knock at your door. When the tumult finally recedes, the only thing that shows are a few more scars where those who are against you dare to try to knock you down. You stand as a symbol of strength, a pillar against all enemies that would love to see you fall. But, underneath every inch of strength and power that you emanate, the entirety of your being is a home. A refuge for those who seek shelter and leadership. A cozy fire that warms those around them with no true  intention to do so, but if left unchecked could destroy the world.  Though, with all the strength and power, it doesn’t mean you don’t also get to crumble. Even a fortress as formidable as Riorson House relies on the love and care of its inhabitants. Remember, that no matter how hard it may seem, always seek shelter in those that love you and ask you for nothing in return. 

During the reread of the letter, he let himself fall into the comfort of his bed. Eyes now on the stone ceiling above, tracking each crevice as if it can give him the answers he seeks. As if something can help ease the pain that he knows lies in his future and the heartbreak that he will wreak in some form. 

_______________

Days or weeks it's all a blur, between Violet’s incessant need to be involved and Varrish constantly pushing her, Xaden has had no time to sneak in a trip to Montserrat or even sit down to write a letter.

The next week arrives sooner than Xaden wants and the flight to Basgiath has his gaze constantly leaning north.

‘No matter how hard you stare, we aren’t heading north.’ Sgaeyl’s words hold a hint of amusement, though there’s comfort as well.

‘I’m aware.’

‘I thought you liked - no loved - everything to do with the General’s daughter.’

Xaden whips his head down, eyes boring into the back of Sgaeyl’s skull.

‘Point taken, Sgaeyl.’ The words are a growl through their mental bond, Xaden cognizant of all of the humiliating ways in which he used to pine for Violet’s attention.

‘And all the while there was someone with the mastery of secrets hiding just far enough in the shadows that you didn’t even realize.’

Xaden takes a long-suffering breath, trying to exhale the irritation that is building at the dragon he is perched atop, for he knows well enough she could just toss him if she wanted. A huff of steam that can only be laughter rises from Sgaeyl’s snout and he closes their bond for a moment of reprieve from her teasing. The flickering of the lanterns of Basgiath’s citadel rising in the distance, he takes a deep breath preparing himself for whatever will greet him upon landing. 

____________________

A sense of exhilaration falls over them as Xaden comes to stand directly in front of Violet, the alcove providing cover from the onlookers in the courtyard. He cannot help the smile that breaks across his face at the look of satisfaction in Violet’s eyes. His forehead falls forward bumping gently into hers, the moment suspended in time, a picture of what things could have been if they were only different people. 

“I miss this.” The words are small from her mouth, her eyes flitting between his eyes and lips.

“Violet.” Xaden says her name, the warning tone not nearly as sharp as it should be.

“You can’t honestly say that you don’t miss me too, Xaden.” Her words have him taking a step back, trying to create space, a pang of guilt hitting him in the chest at the thought of the other woman he hasn’t seen in over a month. 

“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” Xaden responds as he stuffs Warrick’s journal tightly into his flight jacket. “You’ve told me more than once you can’t trust without full disclosure and no matter how much you want it, that is something I’ll never be able to give to you.”

The words must hit their mark because now it’s time for Violet to step back, the want that was in her eyes only moments ago gone in a blink. 

“See you in a week, Lieutenant.” Violet throws over her shoulder, walking away from him. Xaden turns and heads straight to the flight field, grabbing his pack from his normal hiding place before Sgaeyl’s familiar form is in front of him. 

No words are exchanged between them as he mounts and they begin to climb away from the fortress, Cracking his neck as Sgaeyl drifts, wing beats strong against the current of the brisk October sky. Xaden tries to steady himself, but there is just the slightest hint of unease that rolls through him. A disquiet he cannot place like a stone rippling in a calm lake.

An hour or two passes in silence, but in the next blink of his eyes, a sharp feeling of panic and anger rolls through him threatening to toss him from Sgaeyl’s back.

‘What the fuck was that?’ The words are a snarl as Xaden readjusts his grip on her pommels.

Sgaeyl’s head swivels, Xaden’s own hackles beginning to rise at her reaction.

‘They’ve taken her.’ Xaden’s pulse begins to race at the words, terror beginning to burrow into his chest.

‘Who?’ A sense of indignation files through his thoughts, as if Sgaeyl can’t comprehend his audacity.

‘The lightning wielder, of course. I know that you felt Tairn’s emotions too.’

“Fuck!” Xaden screams into the wind, but he knows the word was lost. 

His mind begins churning through the possibilities of how he can extract Violet, but as the thought hits, a maniacal grin lights his face.

‘Are you ready to hunt?’ Xaden can feel his blue daggertail’s agreement before the last word is even out of his mouth. 

‘Always.’ The word slips through as a purr of satisfaction and he’s unsure if the sudden taste for blood is his own or Sgaeyl’s.

_____________________

“Garrick.”

Xaden’s eyes dart left and right, each sweep desperate to find the one person he’s anxious to see. 

“Where is she?” Xaden steps toe to toe with him, his heart in his throat when there’s no one else with him. 

“I -” 

The words seem to be stuck in Garrick’s throat as he looks into the eyes of his best friend. 

“Not here.” A new voice breaks through the din and Xaden whirls to find Brennan striding from the room where he was examiningViolet. The sight of the blood on the towel Brennan is wiping his hands with has a shudder wracking Xaden’s body. The guilt he feels at her injuries helping to eat him alive, along with the constant ache for a woman he can’t seem to pin down. 

“What do you mean by not here?” The words are whispered. Calm. A sense of foreboding lining each syllable. 

“It means Garrick hasn’t left Aretia.” 

Xaden turns to his best friend, a look of betrayal flashing through his eyes as Garrick can’t hide his own flinch.

“Why?” 

If a look could kill, Garrick would be walking into the arms of Malek, the heat of Xaden’s stare warming the room in a stark contrast to his shadows. 

“And who the fuck gave the order that she should be left with Navarre? Did no one think they would use her as leverage knowing that she was friends with the Marked Ones?” Xaden’s voice is rising as the truth begins to settle, his shoulders tight with emotion.

“The Assembly did. You were out gathering the stragglers.” Brennan continues, not perturbed by Xaden’s outburst. 

“Regardless of personal feelings.” Brennan gives him a reproachful look, clearly about his sister. “She is not compromised and what she’s doing is far too important to defect.”

It takes all the control Xaden has built in the years since his father’s execution not to swipe out at the man before him. 

“You have her committing treason alone by stealing missives and you think that she’s not going to be compromised, that they won’t be examining every single person that has a link to me - especially now. After convincing the decorated General’s daughter to defect from the kingdom her mother has defended and trained?” 

Xaden may not be much taller than Brennan, but the anger vibrating from him has him towering over the older man. 

“She is aware of the danger and she chose to stay.” Brennan states, though it's the smug look that has the fire rising in Xaden’s veins. 

“You love playing the strategist. Dangling other people’s lives in the balance, yet when your sister involves herself and then suffers for it, you explode.” 

Garrick watches Xaden, worry for Brennan, the truth settling in his gaze of Xaden’s feelings for Y/N on full display. 

 “We are riders. Riders do not decide whether or not they are kept from danger, besidesY/N’s always known the consequences of her involvement. She has made herself invaluable to the revolution and she will stay as long as her services are needed. Violet, on the other hand, was thrown into this with no prior knowledge.” 

The words are final, but with the last word, the emotions that Xaden has tried to keep at bay come roaring like a wave breaking on the Cliffs of Dralor.

Control no longer exists. Xaden doesn’t think. One minute his hand is at his side and the next, it is buried in Brennan’s face.

“You think that just because someone is important to you, they deserve to be protected, to be slowly brought into something that claims the lives of innocent people daily. You are the same as your mother, save the Sorrengails, but everyone else is just fucking fodder.”

“Brennan! Xaden!” Violet’s voice cuts through the intensity, but Xaden only stands over Brennan’s crumpled form on the hallway floor.

“What the hell was that for, Xaden?” Violet’s concern for her brother and aggravation at Xaden are plain. 

Xaden looks down at the girl he once thought held his entire heart and suddenly all he can feel is exasperation. Without words, he turns on his heels and stalks towards the ramparts of Riorson House.

The feel of the November wind settles across his skin, but it does little to douse the fire that has settled between his lungs. Xaden knows he overreacted. Knows that Y/N has chosen to make herself a priceless cog in the war machine of the revolution, but that doesn’t change the regret that climbs up his throat at the thought of never being able to see her again. Of the argument that has been left to rot like an apple on the forest floor.

Hours later, Xaden walks into his room, the dismay he feels still sitting as tight as a noose around his throat. The sanctuary of his room is diminished though as he sees Violet sitting on the bed. He walks towards the bathing chamber, dreading the conversation he knows they need to have.

“You don’t get to ignore this.”

A laugh bubbles out of his throat as he comes to a halt, though it is anything but humorous.

“The same goes for you, Violet.” He snarks. “Don’t you think it's finally time we truly had the conversation that you’ve been ignoring since you bonded Tairn?”

Xaden walks towards her, the need to break the stalemate they’ve fallen into pulsing through each step.

“I’ve given you opportunity after opportunity to ask the question that I know is churning behind your eyes. I know that you are aware of the deal with your mother, but you won’t ask, because you’d rather pretend that our relationship happened organically. That I was drawn to you, not because of your mother and mated dragons, but because we were enthralled by each other.” Xaden’s chest heaves as reality begins to cut cleanly between them like an axe through a stump of wood. 

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t impressed by your ability to challenge the rules of the quadrant and somehow survive on your own terms, but from day one, the only reason you pursued me was sheer attraction, otherwise you would’ve stayed away like your sister said.” 

“That isn’t true. Sure, you are attractive, beautiful even, but that wasn’t what drew me in.” Violet defends, though Xaden doesn’t miss the pink tint to her cheeks. 

Xaden scoffs, internally he knows the reason he flirted with her. Saw the intentions that leaked plainly from her mind, but he can’t tell her. Cannot reveal that he’s known for months the only reason she looked at him was because she wanted him, because that would only solidify his own foolishness at deigning to fall for her. 

For a moment it was good to be wanted, the burn between them blazed through their bond. Even though Xaden tried to ignore it, there was no way he could leave her alone, not when her very existence was tied to his own. So, instead of backing away from the lust that dripped from her every thought, he let the thoughts fester and between a dragon-induced haze and his infernal need for a woman to love him, he fell. 

But the minute the fliers emerged, her intentions shot through to him loud and clear. The easy way she called him a traitor, that she didn’t trust in his own character, even though he had slowly begun to show himself to her, something between them began to crack. The truth of the shallowness of their relationship on full display as she took back those words she had said only mere hours before. 

“Then what did?” Xaden asks, his tone dropping in resignation. “What do you love about me? You’ve been exceptionally clear that you can’t trust me, that I do not take into account your agency, yet you’ve done nothing to see things from my perspective.”

“Great sex does not equal love. Attraction does not equal love. A bond forged by mated dragons does not equal love.” Xaden crosses his arms the walls he keeps building, shutting themselves firmly against the girl that still stands before him. “We’ve known each other for over a year now and the things we know about each other are just as surface-level as the others in our squads. In fact, I’d wager to guess you know more about Ridoc, Rhiannon, and Sawyer than the man you claim to love.”

The tears that begin to rim her eyes have his stoicism breaking, the realization of the hurt they’ve both inflicted on each other tearing at his own chest.

“Everyone around me has kept something from me. My entire life has consisted of the same thing. You were just the final straw.” Violet responds quietly. 

“And I’m sorry that I added to that list, but you forget that I wasn’t holding secrets for myself. I wasn’t just trying to keep you safe like your family. I was trying to save my home, children that aren’t even over the age of ten, and all those things together are bigger than giving a woman I barely know the truth of everything I do.”

What felt like only a crack separating them moments before has now turned into an ocean, the space screaming with the fact that neither of them will ever give themselves fully to the other. 

“Then that’s it, I guess.” Xaden can barely stand to look at the tears that now stream down Violet’s face. Each roll of one carving the sorrow deeper into his own chest as the words float from her mouth.

“I never set out to hurt you, Violet.” The whispered words tear from his mouth; the only honesty he can truly give her in everything that continues to shift around them. 

Xaden takes her hand and squeezes, the only comfort that he is willing to give her in that moment. 

With that he turns, he knows that they will have to move her out of his room to one of her own, but not tonight. Between the true ending between them and Xaden’s own heart still torn at the thought of the girl that is still miles away, he knows there’s no sleep instore. 

‘Come. We fly.’ 

The ghost of a smile touches Xaden’s lips as Sgaeyl’s warmth floats through their bond. The only true comfort that he’s truly allowed himself to have since the end of the Apostasy. 

As the winter wind continues to rip through his hair and bite at his face, his body shifts between the conflicting feelings of losing the woman he thought he’d love forever. To the warmth of the realization that he can finally pursue you, can finally rest easy in the sunshine of your smile, to melt into the comfort you’ve always given. 

If only you’re willing to let him in and let him have the one slice of you that he has yet to experience.

Hope.

It’s the only thing that consoles him while he tries to guard himself from the bitterness of the night along Sgaeyl’s spine.

.

.

Captain Fitzgibbons continued to fumble through the day's death roll as Xaden’s eyes crept up to the others standing behind him on the dais. It wouldn’t be the first time his eyes roamed to those gathered, the motion one of the consistencies he came to expect in his day. 

Though today, his knuckles whitened as his fists closed. Watching the familiar figure in the light blue robes, he knew something was wrong. 

Her shoulders were set, the precision of a military stance radiating through every angle of her body, but that is where the comfort of a typical day of laying eyes on her ended. When his eyes found hers, the normal warmth and light that mimicked a summer day in Aretia was gone. 

In its place was the gaze of someone whose well had gone dry, an emptiness that he never thought he would associate with her. He watches her stand there, gaze forward, focusing solely on the horizon, but for anyone who truly looks, they would see everything she isn’t seeing. 

Xaden didn’t even notice when formation broke for the day, his own gaze still firmly set on hers, until Garrick’s hand closed firmly on his shoulder.

“Need to get to class.” With those words, it's as if time had started again and reality slammed back into him. 

It took Garrick only two more seconds before his gaze followed Xaden’s own. When his eyes focused on her retreating form, her shoulders began to slump, her normally quick strides turned to something slow and arduous. 

“What’s wrong?” The words slip out of Garrick’s mouth, though they really aren’t meant for Xaden. 

Xaden shakes his head, hating that he has no idea. “I don’t know, but she clearly isn’t herself.”

They watch as she walks down the steps and neither of them miss when she reaches the bottom and the familiar figure of her partner stands there. Though, instead of her gaze moving up to his, it stays pinned in front of her, not acknowledging her presence. Both men continue to observe as he falls in step besides her and when he reaches for her hand, her entire body stays limp. 

The moment is fleeting, but neither man misses the action, both of their shoulders tensing. 

“Something happened.” Garrick says as his feet take an involuntary shift forward. 

“Clearly.” Xaden drawls, but there is nothing but sharpness behind each syllable. 

Their eyes linger on her retreating form, even as she begins to cross the bridge into the healers quadrant. A protective surge flies through both men as they watch the woman who has patched them up an exorbitant amount of times. Their own shelter when either one of them were falling apart from injuries or reckless sparring. 

“So are you going to go check on her before lunch or am I?” Garrick asks plainly as they both finally turn to head to their first class. 

The tension that has built since they watched your interaction with your partner burning between both of them. 

“I’ll go.” Xaden’s words brook no argument and Garrick hums back, satisfied to know that one of them will be checking on her. 

________________________

“I’m here to see Cadet Y/N L/N.” Xaden’s voice reverberates through the quiet halls of the infirmary as he stops near the front desk. The cadet that is sitting behind the chair looks up in confusion, normally riders see only who is assigned to them. 

“Quickly, please.” The words have an air of nicety, but they are harsh, the need to see she’s alright overriding his normally calm demeanor. 

The cadet’s eyes widen slightly as Xaden stands fully next to the desk, the blades at his chest glinting in the light. In the next moment, the cadet has risen and light blue robes fan out as he rushes towards the rooms where the third-year healers are training. 

In minutes that seem to drag like molasses in summertime, Xaden’s boot has begun to tap the floor in impatience. 

‘Your irritation is on full display.’ Sgaeyl’s teasing voice slithers into his mind, breaking the irritation that is eating at his nerves.

‘Yes, well apparently the urgency of my request wasn’t heeded.’ 

The minute the words are out of Xaden’s mind, the door to his left finally opens and her familiar form comes through. Finally setting eyes on her does nothing to quell the concern that has been sweeping through his gut since this morning. 

“Wingleader Riorson. What can I help you with?” Her voice is clinical, almost cold in its delivery. There’s a slight spark in her eyes, one only reserved for him and Garrick, but nothing like the warmth he normally sees.

“I have an injury that needs some treatment.” The words are factual, to a point. He was in the infirmary for taking Garrick’s blade to his forearm after being distracted, but it has long since healed. 

Xaden doesn’t miss the slight rise to her eyebrow, though she doesn’t question, instead guiding him to the nearest clean bed. 

The minute the door clicks behind them, Xaden drops his normally cool mask, concern flitting over his eyes as he watches her robotic movements. 

“What is this about, Xa -” 

She doesn’t even get the words out before he wraps his arms around her, wanting to provide comfort for a woman that has done so much for him and his brother. 

Xaden can almost feel her heart when it cracks, her form slumping against his hold, everything in her body breaking against the walls that she had built to protect herself. 

“Tell me what happened.” The words are whispered into the crown of her hair as Xaden takes most of her weight. 

His words must have reopened the wound, because he can feel when her body begins to shake, the wetness of her tears hitting the hairs on his forearms. Registering her tears, he sits, turning her to rest in his lap, his arms never loosening their hold. 

“I - I can’t.” Xaden can hear each tear of her breath as she fights to hold onto something that has rattled her.

“You can.” He soothes, his hand now making gentle circles on her back. “You don’t shut down like this. I saw you on the dais. What happened?”

She shakes her head, though he doesn’t know if it's because she doesn’t want to tell him or if she’s afraid to. The thought hits him suddenly and his hold tightens, the option of someone threatening her pulling tight the coiled protectiveness that runs through his veins. 

He wants her to tell him, to trust him the way the marked do with their lives for care, but he can feel the way she has walled herself off. A familiar voice floats from the hall and Xaden feels her stiffen in his arms, her legs immediately moving to get up. Before she can, his arms tighten and shadows lock the door, guaranteeing no one can walk through without his consent. 

“Did he hurt you?” Xaden means the words to be quiet, but they leave his lips on a growl. 

It's the answering shake of her head that has his anger calming lightly, but it still doesn’t explain the way she has folded in on herself.

“No.” She finally says on the breath of the whisper. “It’s nothing.”

She tries to steady her voice, to bring the normal fire that follows her everywhere forward, but there is hurt in her voice. 

“I’m fine, Xaden.” She rises from his lap, and turns, wiping her face with the back of her sleeves.

‘If you push now, she will pull away and you will never get her to open up.’ Sgaeyl’s voice is quiet, almost as if she is studying the woman in front of Xaden, along with him. 

He sends his agreement down the bond, but it does nothing to tame the unease. To break through the certainty he has that something is wrong. 

Xaden rises as he watches her busy herself with trying to tidy the already clean room, a tell of hers that she’s uncomfortable. 

“Alright.” Xaden says as his hand lands on the doorknob, but he doesn’t make to leave quite yet. “Can you promise me something?”

The words catch her off guard as she raises her head, questions in her eyes. Her eyebrow cocks as she waits for the rest of his words. 

“If things get too heavy, you will find me or Garrick.” Xaden’s not sure why he says the words. Between wingleader duties, weapon runs, and trying to save Violet Sorrengail from her own demise, free time has become something non-existent. 

She studies his face, almost as if she can’t trust the fact that someone only wants to be there for her. The thought has something in him twisting uneasily. 

‘She feels as if she is a burden.’ Curiosity at the fact leaking through Sgaeyl’s words. 

Xaden wants to shake the beautiful woman in front of him, tell her that she should never feel lesser, that she is more than anyone could ever dream of having. But instead, he keeps his mouth shut as she finally locks eyes with him. 

Instead of voicing her agreement, she only gives a slight nod, the truth of how small she feels on full display. 

Xaden doesn’t hover, though every inch of him wants to stay. As he moves to leave the door, a stray shadow circles her wrist in a light squeeze. He hears her breath hitch lightly as he walks through the door and he can’t control the slight twitch of his lips. 

________________________

For the second day this week, she won’t make eye contact. Not with Xaden or Garrick. She still stands tall in exacting military precision, but they can both see the way her cheeks have hollowed. The dimness of her own thoughts following her around like a cloud threatening rain. 

“She still hasn’t talked to you?” Xaden’s words are quiet as he steps up to Garrick after formation. 

Garrick only shakes his head in return as they both watch her turn towards the healer’s quadrant. As soon as she steps from the dais, her head droops, something that has both men’s hackles rising. 

“Maybe you should try to talk to her.” Xaden tells Garrick, hoping that maybe one of them has the chance to get you to open up. 

Moving towards their classes in step, they begin the long trek to battle brief, something heavy hanging between the two. 

“I’ll go see her after dinner.” Garrick says as they take up their usual seats in the back of class. “Maybe she’ll be more willing to talk in the comfort of her own room.”

Their attention is drawn to the front of the room as Professor Devera begins her notes for the day, but its obvious that neither of them are paying much attention to the latest attack, both men’s thoughts distracted with the girl that has had her spirit dashed. Each of them imagines scenarios that have their hands moving to the blades at their sides, protective instincts flaring at an enemy they don’t even know. 

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“It’s almost poetic isn’t it, that the one person that can hold us together is the one we hurt the most.”

You don’t let your eyes drift from the tome you are reading, but you’d know the familiar cadence of the speaker anywhere. 

The shadow of the leg of your chair drags up, tendrils sweeping around your fingers in a light caress. The simple act that used to bring a smile to your face, now has you pulling your hand away.

“Poetic? Is that what you’re calling hiding the biggest secret you possibly could from me for over three months?”

Regret flashes in his now unfamiliar eyes before he comes and sits down across from you. 

“I’m not here to fight or justify the unjustifiable. But it’s time that you know the truth that’s been haunting me longer than you can imagine.” Your lips rise in a sneer as Xaden continues to speak. Your patience running on non-existent.

As if he can feel every ounce of irritation, Xaden’s hand flies to yours that still sits on the tome, fingers curling as if prepared to turn the page. 

“I just ask you to hear me out. No Violet. No one else. Just you and I. Because at the pace things are changing, I’m not even sure if I’ll have hours with you and I can’t fucking leave everything broken like this.” 

“What do you mean not sure if you have hours? Are you talking about your hold on your own soul?” You know the words are sharper than any blade in your arsenal, but after the days and weeks of betrayal, you can’t find it in yourself to care. 

His fist draws in, tightening around your hand like you’ll save him from drowning. His shoulders sag and the skin around his eyes look more like bruises. Yet, he still remains formidable and polished, a fact that you doubt would ever change, but there’s a fear that’s laying beneath the surface you’ve never seen before.

Whatever rest the man in front of you has been getting is minimal, at best.

“You’re the only one that will listen. The only one who will be level-headed with me about the minimal future I have left with my friends, family, and the women I love.” Even though there is an underlying level of defeat, Xaden’s words are steady. His demeanor one of a man that has begun to lean towards acceptance, instead of hope.

You rub at your chest as the organ inside begins to ache, the raw truth of the situation falling over you. 

“So, it’s true then, the Isles proved fruitless after all?” You ask as your mind churns with the fact that this creeping disease that is tearing apart the man in front of you is now just an inevitability.  

Xaden gives a small nod, his eyes darting to the wood of the table. It’s odd, seeing the man in front of you full of shame for his own actions. Gone is the ruthless rider without a shred of mercy, the one who never second guessed his decisions. In his place sits a man who hit with facts and dashed hope, has never looked so absolutely wrecked.

Registering the tap of your leg against the floor, you can feel the agitation scratching through your body. Every single decision that you’ve made since joining the rider’s quadrant hitting like a sledgehammer. Power begins humming under your skin as you think about your relationship.

“You need to calm down.” The words are pitched low and when you look up the pain on Xaden’s face nearly has you asking him what’s wrong.

Dragging a deep breath into your lungs, you shut the window to Rion’s power and make yourself settle. 

“Thank gods you have better control than Violet.” Xaden says, almost offhandedly, before he rounds the table to come and stand in front of you. 

“I didn’t think you were here to discuss my ability to control my power. I thought this was where you finally come clean.” Your words are clipped as you sink back in the chair to look up into his eyes.

Xaden’s hand comes up and his thumb drags down the side of your cheek, the pained look on his face turning to one of wonder. 

“Should you be touching something that isn’t yours?”

“You can decide whatever you want after I tell you everything, but no matter what lifetime we are in, no matter the monster I am, you will always be mine. Both of you. Just as I am yours. Even wielding all the power on the Continent will never change that. Losing my soul over and over again and becoming the abomination we’ve fought against, will never change that.” His words are sure, the tone brooking no argument.

He settles down in front of you again but draws the chair closer. Intertwining his fingers with yours and the words begin to pour. He recounts the battle with the Sage, the way he could feel Violet’s life draining through the bond. He recalls Violet’s plea to withhold what happened, her request for a sense of normalcy with the sudden changes. Then their mutual uncertainty of your reaction, especially after they hid the truth. He also mentions the nightmares he’s been having, a haunted look falling over his face as he recounts the story. 

“Would you have done it?”

“What?”

“Would you still have done it if you hadn’t felt the pull of the bond with Violet?” The words are an accusation, and you don’t know if it’s jealousy or the constant feeling of unworthiness that has taken over your mouth. 

“Are you assuming that since it was Violet that’s why I did it? Since we share a bond through our dragons, she’s somehow more important to me than you are?”

“Yes!” You roar and the sounds reverberate off the walls of the Archives. “How could I not?”

Your voice shrinks to a sound smaller than you’ve ever heard it, as you pull your hand away and turn your face. 

Not even a full second goes by before you are ripped from your seat and folded into a hard chest. 

“Gods woman, never fucking say that again.” Xaden chastises. “You think that if it would’ve been you that I felt I wouldn’t have done the same thing? That I wouldn’t equally tear my soul apart for you, just as well as for Violet? Have I truly failed you so spectacularly that you believe that you aren’t worthy?”

“It’s hard to believe when the two people you thought would hold you together keeps making you fall apart.” You can’t help the tears that begin to flow, and Xaden’s hold tightens, his hand threading through your hair and pressing you further to him. 

“I never, ever wanted to be the person that would hurt either of you. But on that field the only thought I had was to save Violet and to make sure that they would never be able to touch you. Having either of you in their clutches or dead is my worst fucking nightmare.” His voice breaks slightly as he pulls back to rest his forehead on yours. 

For a moment you can’t do anything but breathe. Your lungs begin to fill with the recognizable scent of Xaden and it makes your heart crack a little more. Your brain warring with your heart over the man that has you tucked into him as if he could save you from the rest of the world. 

“You know this doesn’t make us alright. It doesn’t make anything alright.” You whisper into his chest, your own body loathed to be coaxed away from his warmth. 

“I know.” His murmurs into your hair, his arm tightening against your waist. “I never thought any explanation would fix it. At this point, I’m not sure if my soul were intact and we begged on our hands and knees for the rest of our lives, it would be enough to garner your forgiveness.”

Calloused hands find your face, firmly brining you up to lock eyes with him, the entrapped onyx burning in the dim lights of the Archives. 

“But that doesn’t mean that I won’t try with every shred of my shattered soul that I have left to let you know how much I love you. How much Violet and I will never be the same without you standing with us.”

Your eyes search his, your brain working through every tell of his that you’ve memorized in your time together. You want to refute yourself, to argue your own findings, but there isn’t anything but sincerity in his eyes, his form. 

“I don’t just want to be the glue that makes the two of you work. But, perhaps if you keep trying, and I mean truly trying, you may be able to ascertain better results than when you both attempt to outrun your own poor decisions.” You feel Xaden’s muscles coil against you, but he doesn’t take a step away. 

His fingers curl even tighter against your waist, as if you will disintegrate into a mist if he doesn’t hold on firmly enough. 

“Starlight, this isn’t trying. This is the honesty you’ve deserved, which should’ve been given freely long before now.”

“You deserve more than just the promise of honesty though.” The soft voice that breaks has your head swinging to the side, unsure of when Violet had joined the conversation. 

Violet must note the uncertainty in your eyes, because her hand comes up and cups your jaw, thumb brushing in soothing strokes against your cheek.

“I just found you both. The only thing I heard was what Xaden just said. And he’s right. You deserve so much more than what we’ve given you. More than the scraps of honesty and the fear of deception. I just pray to Loial that we aren’t too late to save the thing that we destroyed with our own bare hands.”

As Violet steps in front of you, Xaden pushes you to turn towards her, his hands settling low on your hips as Violet’s slither around your neck. The anger and resentment residing in your chest beginning to crack slightly as Violet rises on her toes, sparkling hazel eyes staring into yours before the sweetness of her lips are on yours. 

Eyes fluttering closed involuntarily, you melt. Between the calloused hands that grip your hips with a distinguishable weight, the soft caress to the back of your neck and the warmth enveloping you from both ways, your senses are on fire. 

There’s no denying the chemistry between the three of you. The heat that begins to lick up your spine as both of your partners try to convince you of their devotion. Your mind tries to break through the haze, to bring logic back into the forefront, but after weeks of emotional turmoil, you just want to let go. 

Your body is full of nothing but sensation, every caress, soft kiss, and playful bite has your entire body on edge. 

Until the bang of a tome hitting the ground has your eyes popping open. 

“Am I interrupting something important?” Your eyes flair, as you hear Xaden growl behind you, his hands dragging you impossibly closer. Violet’s head swings slightly over her shoulder, irritation plastered across her face as Aaric finally steps fully into view. 

“You aren’t needed here Camlean.” Violet’s voice is sweet with venom as she turns in front of you, blocking your body from Aaric’s view.

A sardonic chuckle leaves Aaric as he prowls closer.

“I’d wager that I’m exactly what’s needed here.” He supplies to Violet before his eyes blink up to yours.

It’s unfamiliar, the way that the concern shines through his eyes for you. Though, in this moment, you can’t help but be a bit thankful for the intrusion. 

“Besides, Y/N and I had some things to discuss.”

“The fuck you do.” Xaden snarls, but his ire is short lived when you begin to pull away from his arms.

“He’s right.” You say succinctly as you begin to move away. “If you both are truly wanting to atone for your deceptions, now is the time to start living up to your promises.”

Your eyes are hard as the haze of familiarity and lust clear from your vision. 

“If you’re going to gain my forgiveness, you can start by listening when I have other places to be. When I tell you I have things to take care of that take me away from you. Freedom goes both ways, and so does trust. If you want me to trust you, you must extend the same in return.”

“Besides, I’m not the one that shattered that trust in the first place.”

You turn, eyes sliding to Aaric’s as you pick up the tome you were reading from the table. You don’t dare turn around to see the faces of the two people you left behind you, knowing that you need time to decide how you will move on from here.

________________________

The sound of sure footsteps hit your ears as you walk through the halls of Basgiath. Gait never faltering while your mind turns over what the reappointed Duke of Tyrrendor could possibly want with you from the formal summons you received. 

The messenger walks several steps ahead as you move towards the imposing doors of the Senarium chambers. The swirling wood and iron come into focus and a brow rises in question when you see Bodhi standing outside of the doors.

“Thank you, Clevenger. I’ll make sure she gets to the Duke.” Bodhi’s voice reverberates with an aristocratic tone. 

As you watch the messenger walk away, your focus turns to Bodhi.

“You going to tell me why I’m being summoned to a Senarium meeting? Or do I have to wait for the illustrious Duke to grace me with the purpose?” Bodhi flinches lightly at your tone, but you haven’t had the best relationship with those closest to your partners in the recent months. 

“Xaden is going to explain everything.” Bodhi explains, as his hand moves forward gesturing you to the closed doors. 

You send him a sidelong glance before the curiosity gets the better of you and stepping forward, your hand reaches towards the doorknob of the chamber. 

“This isn’t a circus Riorson. You can’t just pull in anyone you want to Senarium meetings.” The shrieking voice hits you and has a bristle climbing its way up your spine. 

“And Duchess, as I’ve said before, she isn’t just anyone and I would appreciate you treating her just as you would an heir to Elsum.” The silk of Xaden’s voice hits your ears but there is no mistaking the steel in every word. 

You don’t miss the harumph of air that must be the breath of the Duchess’ indignation. Heat begins to climb up your spine, though you’re unsure as to why since you are certain they are speaking of someone else.

That is until your footsteps hit the stones at the bottom of the dais. You give a formal curtsey to the members of the Senarium and don’t miss the sneers and looks of irritation flittering across the faces of the nobles of Navarre.  

Xaden stands and comes to your side; his arm extended for you to take.

“What is going on, Xaden?” You hiss as you place your hand in the crook of his elbow. 

His other hand comes up to wrap around yours before he begins to walk back to his seat at the table.  He doesn’t say anything as he gestures for you to sit at his right hand. Your eyes flit between his and Bodhi’s as the uncertainty of your position rises.

“Please sit. I promise I’ll explain everything as soon as this meeting is over.” Xaden whispers as his lips brush the shell of your ear. The earnestness in his tone has you acquiescing and dropping into the seat next to him. 

Bodhi, obviously here as the heir of Tyrrendor, sits on Xaden’s left and the room begins to be filled with voices again as they continue their debate. 

You try to listen, to focus on the words that are being exchanged in front of you, but your mind begins to conjure all the ways in which this is just a joke. A ruse the heirs of Riorson House are using just to piss off the power of Navarre. 

As the thought floats through your mind, a warmth suddenly covers your hand where it rests on the arm of your chair. You look down at the familiar fingers that squeeze your own, and Xaden’s eyes meet yours as if in silent answer to your question. A spark of earnestness dancing in the newly amber hue. 

Eyes moving down, you now register the high collar of Xaden’s tunic, the silver embroidery that climbs over his shoulders, hiding the power that you know lays beneath. The clothing is still black, but Sgaeyl’s outline sits firmly on his shoulder, the other the crest of Riorson House. It’s rare for you to see him out of rider leathers, but you’d be remiss not to appreciate the way the formal clothing emphasizes his imposing air. 

You shift, very aware of your clothing that is covered in sweat and dirt from sparring and general wear. Your eyes flick to Bodhi and you see as even he has been dressed formally for the occasion, the stark contrast between your dress and theirs making you uncomfortable. 

Before you even have the wherewithal to tune into the crux of the meeting, a gavel hits the table, shocking you from your thoughts. All the nobles around you begin to rise from their chairs. As if taking this as a cue, you stand as well, but don’t get far when Xaden’s hand that’s still holding yours tugs slightly. 

“Wait.” The word is whispered as he tugs you closer to Bodhi.

As the ornate wooden doors shut behind the Duke of Calldyr, you turn fully to the cousins that have flanked your sides. Your defenses rise as you begin to question everything.

‘Listen.’ Rion’s voice floats through your mind and your brow quirks at her tone. 

‘Never expected you to take Xaden’s side ever again.’ Rion huffs, clearly irritated at your assessment.

‘I stand with no one but you.’ Rion volleys back. ‘However, Sgaeyl has told me the Broken One’s plan, and I cannot deny its merits.’

Now your own curiosity is truly peaked. How could your dragon go from shielding you from the man in front of you one minute to urging you to trust him again so easily?

“Start talking or I’m leaving.” 

Xaden’s eyes don’t move from yours as he gestures for you to take a seat. As soon as you sit though, you are trying to rise but are held in place by Xaden’s hand on your shoulder. 

“I’m not supposed to sit in a noble’s place in the Senarium, Xaden.”

A smirk tilts his lips as he comes back to the front of the chair to rest on the table. 

“You don’t think I already know that?” He taunts as he folds his arms over his chest. Your eyes roll at his retort, irritation already brimming at the surface. 

“If I get punished for this, just know it will be your fault.” You say with a wave of your hand. 

Bodhi sucks in a breath to your right and your own eyes widen as Xaden’s eyes darken with pure danger.

“No one will touch a hair on your head for any decision I make. If they even dared, they would find themselves forfeit of their life.”

You swallow thickly at the threat of violence that has begun to bleed through Xaden’s eyes.  A soft cough from Bodhi has Xaden shaking his head, the look disappearing from his face like fog after the sun rises. 

“Perhaps we stick to why she was summoned here in the first place and leave how we will deal with etiquette another day.” Bodhi offers as Xaden stands again, hand raking through his hair.

“Right.” You hear Xaden mumble as you watch him try to pull himself together. 

“You and Bodhi will heretofore be my heirs.” The words are spoken matter-of-factly, no indication of the true reality that is woven through every syllable.

Your eyes dart between the cousins, sure that this is a joke. That they can’t possibly be seriously saying that you are now considered an heir to Tyrrendor. 

“No.” You say in a rush, your heartrate spiking violently. The last thing you need is to be responsible for a territory when you can’t seem to even get a grip on your own life. “This has to be some ridiculous prank. You cannot possibly be serious.”

But, looking at the two faces in front of you, there is no mirth in their gazes. 

“I’m not trained for this. I’m a second-year cadet. I’m a weapon. Not a negotiator, not someone that wants to play the games of politics.” Your eyes continue to dart between the two. And seeing that Xaden has no intention of changing his decision, you turn to his cousin. 

“Bodhi, you can’t honestly agree with him! This is your birthright! You’ve both trained your entire lives for this, grown up in the circles of nobility. I’m just a girl from a small town that was given the gift of power from my dragon!” Your chest is heaving as you try to convince the two men in front of you of their folly. 

Silence hits you as your breath continues to come in ragged pants. 

“Feeling better?” Xaden asks as the smirk that was there begins to tug again. 

“Better…better? How the fuck can I be feeling anything other than abject panic when you tell me that I’m going to be making decision for the largest territory in Navarre. That you think I have enough strategy, enough political prowess to butt heads with those who have been ruling for decades longer than me!” You challenge.

“If its not you, it should be Bodhi! And if for some reason you don’t think he can do it, shouldn’t you be choosing your partner that has been part of that world since her birth?” Your gestures begin to turn wild as you try to make him understand. 

Slumping back into the chair of the Duchy of Tyrrendor, your shoulders sag. The thought crosses your mind that this must be some kind of temporary madness. An effect of the loss of his soul that Xaden can’t possibly mean to make you one of his heirs. 

Everything swirling at a pace you can’t control, you miss when Xaden directs Bodhi to leave and brings the chair you sat in for the meeting closer. Sliding into the seat, eyes squared on you, with both understanding and warmth.  Xaden leans forward; arms braced on his legs as he tilts toward you.

“Why me?” The words are small as emotions and thoughts float through your mind.

Xaden’s hands cup yours as he brings you towards him, your forehead hitting his softly as you begin to steady your heartbeat. 

“You’re right, Violet has grown up surrounded by people of power, walked the same halls as royalty and their children. But that doesn’t make her qualified.” He breathes quietly as his thumb strokes yours in reassurance. “Sometimes though, what’s needed isn’t those that have a legacy in power. And for Tyrrendor, there’s no one I would trust more with her safety, than you. Because I think you will both keep each other safe in return.”

The words settle between you with the weight of their reality pushing at your shoulders. You search his eyes reaching for an understanding that seems to keep tugging just out of your reach. Reading the uncertainty in your face, Xaden brings his hand up to cup your cheek.

“I know it feels like too much, that the weight feels like something you will never rise from, that you don’t believe that you can handle this. But, I promise you, I wouldn’t make this decision if I didn’t think you were more than capable.”

“Bodhi is your heir. Why are you certain you need someone else besides?”

A sad smile crosses his features as he takes in your question. “Because I know my time is short, just like you do.”

You didn’t think the weight on your shoulders could get any heavier, but Xaden’s words feel like they’re suffocating. Closing your eyes, you try to take a breath, try to breathe through the responsibility that he now wants to settle on your shoulders. Not to mention, the reality that soon there will be no Xaden to turn to, no pillar of strength to lean on in the storm that will soon envelop the entire Continent.

“I never thought I’d truly have to say goodbye to you.” The words are whispered in the small space between you but the grief that settles in your heart is like nothing you’ve experienced before. You try, but it’s impossible to hide the sob that settles in the back of your throat. Eyes craning to the sky, you try to staunch the tears you feel beginning to gather behind your lids. 

“I promise I will do everything I can so that I never have to say goodbye to either you or Violet.” Xaden’s voice is quiet as he drags your gaze back to him. “Please believe when I say leaving you both is my worst fucking nightmare. But you and I both know that it doesn’t change the fact that we need fail safes.”

“Does Violet know of your plan to make me one of your heirs?” You ask as you begin to wrestle with your new reality.

“No.” Xaden explains as he squeezes your hands again. “Bodhi is the only person who knows that we are going to have another heir to Tyrrendor’s line. It’s something we’ve discussed thoroughly since everything happened.”

“This isn’t atonement.”

“I know. But, that doesn’t change my hope that you will accept the position.” Your head falls to the back of the chair as you try to understand everything that is happening. “This isn’t because I’m trying to win your trust back. It’s not a ploy or an excuse to be close to you, it’s because I know you. I trust you – even when we broke your trust in us, when you lost your faith in me. Though you may not see it now, you are meant for a role like this. You let logic rule your decisions, even when emotions are running high. You have the strength that Tyrrendor will need in a leader.”

“If you accept, you will be moved into a squad under Bodhi, so that you will be able to begin your training and participation in the meetings of the Senarium. As well as joining me with any matters that I believe you should be privy to.” Xaden’s explanation does nothing to stop the feeling of inadequacy that squeezes your chest. 

‘Do not doubt what the Broken One says. He has made an infinite number of bad decisions, but you doubt yourself too much.’ Rion breaks through, clearly done with your feelings of self-doubt that must be creeping through the bond. 

“I guess if both you and Rion agree on something, there must be some truth to it. Though it still doesn’t change the fact that I don’t think I’m the one you truly need.”

A smile breaks across Xaden’s face as he rises from his chair. Grabbing your hand and pulling you towards him, you feel the warmth of his body before his hands drag you into his chest.

“You will see you doubt yourself far too much, just give it a little time.” He promises, his breath fanning through your hair.

“When are we going to tell your other half about this?” The words are out of your mouth before you even think through them. You don’t miss the way Xaden’s muscles coil tight underneath you.

“I’m not concerned about her finding out right now.” His words make your brows furrow and then an eyebrow arch in challenge.

“Are you really going to do the same thing to her that you did to me and keep her out of it?” 

Xaden’s fingers contract against your waist, the only indication that your words hit squarely the target you were aiming for. He pulls back, surprise on his face.

“I’m not trying to keep this a secret from anyone. I just wanted you to be the one to decide.”

A sardonic huff leaves you as Xaden completes his thought. 

“Glad someone in this relationship gets the deference they’re supposed to.”

“No.” Xaden growls. “You don’t get to diminish yourself. I fucked up. I know. Violet knows. But if you accept this new role, I expect one thing in return.”

Your eyes lock on his as you wait to hear his ultimatum. 

“You never again get to question your worth. Never again get to question the fact that I love you. That the greatest regret of my life is not turning venin but damaging the relationship that we’ve built. That I didn’t put my foot down and say damn the consequences of Violet’s ire and hurt at that moment.” Xaden’s hands cup your face, holding your gaze firmly in place with his. “You will remember the wonderous woman that you are. The steady foundation to our house of lightning and shadow. And the most loved woman in this entire damn fortress between Violet and I.”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, the only reprieve from the grip he still maintains on your face.

“Alright.” You whisper, keeping your eyes firmly shut.

Surprise shoots through your body when you feel the warmth of Xaden’s lips press firmly against your own. 

“You are magnificent, Lady L/N of Tyrrendor.” He breathes against your lips before all thoughts dissolve at the insistent press of his lips. 

A swarm of pride lights up your mind as the words register, Rion’s answer an overwhelming sense of supremacy at your new title filling up every corner.

_____________________

You let out a yawn as you trudge towards the barracks. Sleep pulling at every limb leaving you feeling like you’re trudging through the muddy banks of the Iakobos.

Opening the door to your quarters, you expect to flop into bed, too exhausted to move, but instead your eyes widen in shock. Looking to the left and right, panic begins to claw up your chest. Every single item of yours is gone, even the desk and bed that furnished your room. There’s no note, no indication of where or who has taken your belongings. 

Stepping back on your left foot, you turn and find yourself crashing into a petite figure. Cursing, you try to right yourself but end up on the floor of the hallway looking over at the girl who is now sprawled on the other side.

“Shit!” The words fall from your lips as your knee hits the floor and you roll to your back, reflexes sluggish at your lack of sleep.

“What the hell are you doing Violet?” The words slip through clenched teeth as you rub your hand roughly against your knee trying to displace the ache.  

“I came to tell you about your new quarters.”

The look you gave could’ve turned Violet to ice. Frustration curling through your body, warring with the already pulling exhaustion, fists clenching as you tried to maintain your calm. 

“And why pray tell are you the one who knows that I was being moved?” You don’t soften the blow of the words as patience no longer has a place in your body. 

“Because Xaden was barely able to have everything moved before he had to leave for Lewellen.” Violet confirms as she rises and motions her head for you to follow. 

You follow reluctantly, the idea of your bed the only thing pulling you along. 

Moving through the passages of the dorms and your eyebrows arch as you continue towards the lodgings that are typically reserved for visiting dignitaries. 

“I believe you must be mistaken Violet. Why would a rider be lodged in the same rooms as visiting dignitaries?” 

Violet doesn’t respond as she begins to trek up the spiral stairs of the intricate tower. Looking left and right you don’t miss the way this stairwell feels warm and inviting compared to the cold clinicality of the rider’s quarters.

“Lodging must be provided according to your station. That was the agreement between the Duchy of Tyrrendor and the Senarium.” 

A responding grunt is all you give as you come up to an intricately carved door. Without any more words, Violet pushes open the door, but does not walk through the threshold. With a quick glance at her, your feet move as your eyes try to take in the room around you. 

Decked from floor to ceiling, the room is draped in the familiar colors of Tyrrendor, with accents of black belying Xaden’s station of Lieutenant. Rich furniture decks the open sitting room, though as you look around, confusion settles.

“Your room is to the right. Xaden didn’t want to assume you’d want to stay with him.” Violet’s voice greets you as she still stands in the hallway.

“Are you just going to stand outside until I give you an invitation?” Your words are clipped as you stare back at her.

A sad smile crawls across her face as she looks back at you, face falling slightly. “The wards don’t allow me in.”

There’s no way to hide your surprise at the words, your eyes widening as you take in the girl who still rests in the hallway. 

“You and Xaden are the only ones allowed into the apartment. And only you are able to enter your room…unless you allow someone, of course.”

The words knock you off your feet. Emotions warring in your heart over the new reality.

‘The Broken One seeks your comfort and the Lightning Wielder agreed.’ Rion’s confirmation floats as your fall into one of the velvet chairs.

‘I don’t know what to do with this anymore.’ Your words in turn are quiet, the truth laid bare for only your dragon. 

‘You take things one day at a time and let the two who have broken your trust prove that they can respect you.’

You are only broken from your reflection when you hear the scuffle of boots in the hallway. 

“I’ll leave you to get settled.” You don’t miss the disappointment in Violet’s gaze, but with the constant upheaval, you can’t find it in yourself to regret it. You just nod in return as you watch Violet turn on her heel. 

With a gentle tug on your power, the door to the apartment closes, sealing the wards of the door with a pop. Looking into the fire that crackles in the hearth, you close your eyes trying to make sense of everything that seems to change day by day. 

Snuggling into the plush velvet of the chair, mind whirring, you go over the last few days. Lessons in politics and the rules of nobility, changes to your living arrangements, and the constant pull from classes and patrol, your own mind has barely had time to settle. 

As if knowing you needed comfort, a familiar knock sounds on the door to your new apartment. 

“Too good for the likes of us any longer?” The smooth voice floats from outside the door and you can’t help the smile that cracks your lips. 

“For the likes of you, always.” You say as your hand shoots out to tug Aaric forward into your rooms. 

“You know I saw a very dejected Violet trudging across the rotunda. That couldn’t be your doing, now could it?”

You snort as you both settle yourselves into the cushions of the plush furniture. The exhaustion that was pulling at you just moments ago seeming to fade as the familiar warmth of conversations with Aaric settles in your bones. 

“You’ve made quite the waves in the nobility, you know?” His words are teasing, but you know there is still gravity behind them. 

“Well, if anyone needs to talk, maybe they should take it up with their newly appointed Duke, and not the person who seems to be affected by his every whim.” 

“I know this is all a surprise to you. That you can’t help but feel ill-prepared for the role, but he’s right you know. As much as I loathe to admit anything Riorson does is right.” The teasing leeched from Aaric’s face, replaced solely with the truth. “If things continue to go South, Tyrrendor needs stability, especially being the largest province and neither Riorson or Violet could ever lie and say that you aren’t one of the most level-headed riders around.”

“But these aren’t’ just riders. These are people with lives and families that need someone who will look out for what’s best for them, not a child playing a ruler.”

A huff leaves Aaric’s lips as he shakes his head. “And you think my father – or even my brother is anything more than just children playing king? They’ve been more than willing to let others die in place of truly protecting their subjects. I can assure you that you have more compassion in your pinky than there is in the entire palace.”

Aaric’s confidence settles between you and a comfortable silence falls. The usual talk of the day becomes a quiet hum to your tumultuous thoughts. Soon enough, comfort brings back the exhaustion, your eyes falling shut as you listen to Aaric’s latest tales of his squadmates. 

__________________

Your eyes begin to flutter as you register gentle hands tugging under your neck and knees. 

“Shh. I’ve got you.” The words are quiet, but there’s no mistaking the smooth velvet of the voice. “Let’s get you comfortable.”

Without thinking, you let yourself snuggle closer into his chest, the warmth radiating from him bringing the peace of sleep back.

“Wanna sleep with you.” The words mumble from your mouth sleepily and you aren’t even sure if he heard you, until your body registers that he has come to a complete stop himself. 

His arms tighten around you, a long sigh draining from his lips. “You know what you’re saying?”

Uncertainty bleeds through each syllable and you crack your eyes open to see the hesitant hope in his eyes. 

“Yes.” You mumble before continuing. “I need my thoughts to stay quiet tonight. And I want your warmth and comfort. Especially since no one knows how long we have. Absolution will just need to wait.”

Xaden tugs you tighter, his forehead falling heavily to yours. “As much time as I can, I promise.”

You hum in acknowledgment as Xaden’s steps change course, his steps heading to the door to his room. 

“You’re welcome here at any time, whether I’m here or not.” He continues, though you let your eyes drift back closed. “I hope this apartment can be a small sanctuary in your world. I know things have changed, but I need to know you’re safe. Because being an heir to Tyrrendor has only increased your value to many who seek to hurt.”

Cracking your eyes open again, you see the worry buried in the deep amber that you haven’t yet become accustomed to. “I can take care of myself, you know that.”

As you finish your words, Xaden places you in the center of his bed with the reverence of a holy object. “That never means that I want you to have to.” His thumb traces the length of your cheek, before he pulls back to get himself ready for bed.

You feel the bed dip as Xaden gets in beside you, the comfort of his warmth wrapping around you. Tugging you closer, he pulls you to lie on his chest and you oblige, if for no other reason than to look at him while you talk. 

“And who takes care of you? Don’t think just because we haven’t been together that I haven’t seen the way you’ve shut down even more than before.” Your own hand comes up to stroke the sharp lines of his cheekbone and jaw. His eyes close and he takes a deep breath, exhaling through the weight that has settled in his chest.

“Not sure I deserve being looked after.” Your fingers stop in their tracks at his words. You’re still angry. Still betrayed, but that doesn’t change your own need to provide comfort to those you love.

“Punishing yourself isn’t going to change the decisions you’ve made.” You chide though there isn’t any heat behind the words.

“No, but just maybe they’ll be atonement.” 

You don’t have a moment to respond before Xaden’s lips fall on yours, hands tugging you to lay on top of him. 

Instead of fighting with words, you let your body show the man below you his importance. You sink into the kiss, hands tangling in his hair to bring him closer and pour every ounce of emotion that has settled in your heart into each sweep of your lips. 

Sometimes the words aren’t nearly as necessary as the action of showing those you love how special they are to you. And in this instance, you let your body take the lead, hoping that no matter what happens in the future, Xaden can feel how much you love him. 

_____________________

‘Sgaeyl confirms the Broken One and Lightning Wielder need you. Apparently Andarna has chosen to break her bond with the Lighting Wielder.’

The words hit you like a strike causing your steps to falter.

‘What do you mean by breaking the bond? Is Violet alright? Will this kill her?’ Your mental voice is steady even as your steps begin to rush back to your apartment, worry beginning to choke off your air supply. 

That is your first mistake. 

As you try to make your way towards your pack, you don’t miss the way the halls around you have become darker than normal, a sinister sense of dread coiling around each pillar. 

“Cadet L/N.” A voice that you don’t recognize calls your name and you turn, not checking your surroundings. 

The next minute darkness roils as your head is covered and your feet are swept out from underneath you.

“Bring her, quickly. This is the only way that we can draw them both out.” Another voice floats to your ears, but you begin to blink as the substance coating the bag fills your lungs. 

‘Starlight!’ Rion’s yell reverberates in your skull before the darkness claims you.

______________________

“Let her go, Berwyn, or you will forfeit not only your life, but also your power.” Xaden seethes as his gaze continues to dart between both you and Sgaeyl. 

Watching the menacing blue dragon before you struggle to free herself, you can only hope that Rion is somewhere safe. The thoughts of your own dragon flutter through your mind as Berwyn tugs you forward harshly, your knees biting into the rocks on the valley floor below you. 

Sgaeyl’s eyes land on you and you don’t miss the way they harden, though you aren’t sure if her anger is directed towards you or the venin Sage behind you. 

“Funny, you would think you’d have learned, Shadow Wielder, that I’m not that easy to kill.” Berwyn teases as his knife draws closer to your throat. “Besides, there’s no motivator like love, especially not for you. Two out of the three most important females in your life with my blade to their throats, the pain of wanting to channel must be just delicious to feel.”

Fear begins to crawl up your spine like the flutter of butterfly wings as you feel the bite of the knife begin to pierce the soft skin of your neck. Though you want to struggle against the sadistic words of the man that holds you, your own resolve at your situation has settled in your bones. 

“If you don’t want your fucking forces decimated, I would remove your fucking blade before I show you exactly what a damn Maven should look like.” You’ve never heard words so sinister tear from Xaden’s mouth. It shouldn’t surprise though considering his slow deterioration with the pull of power, one you are sure Violet convinced herself wasn’t happening.

“Oh, this is even sweeter than I thought.” Berwyn replies as you begin to feel the trickle of blood down your neck. “I thought taking the lightning wielder would be the cherry on top, but it seems threatening every woman that you love will truly be the tipping point. Tell me, dear student of mine, who is the true feather that will tip the scales in my favor?”

Xaden’s eyes dart to yours and then straight to Sgaeyl. If you didn’t know him so well, you would have missed it, but you see the way the pain dances in his eyes. His fingers twitching belying the truth that he is barely holding himself together.

“Don’t.” A whisper of the words leaves you lips, but the way Xaden’s gaze darts to you reveals he heard you. “Just let me go. Save Sgaeyl.”

Xaden’s eyes widen as your words land, his fingers curling tightly into fists. 

“I didn’t sacrifice my soul for just Violet. I won’t let him fucking take you away from me just because he thinks he can.” Xaden’s voice is soft, not meant to carry to the ones that you know still stand behind you. 

A laugh that sounds more like the grating of an iron nail against stone greets your ears. “Your surety in your power here is astounding. Tell me, do you think that just because you channel you are a match for those who have been draining power for centuries?”

“I have no idea, but I’m willing to test that theory.” Xaden muses in a slightly amused tone as he begins to kneel to the ground.

“Don’t Xaden, I’m not worth your soul!” You cry as the blade begins to bite in harder, desperate to save his soul and for the pain to end.

“No, you’re not.” Regret lading against every word from Xaden’s mouth. “You’re worth so much more.” 

Before you can say one more word, Xaden’s hand is firmly on the ground, his face concentrated directly to the earth. With your next shallow breath, the world is covered in darkness and the bite of the dagger at your neck is suddenly removed.

Tumbling forward, the only thought you have is to stop the man you love from losing himself completely.

“Xaden, look at me!” You yell as you try to rise to your feet. 

Falling forward on shaking legs, you barely make it two steps, not nearly close enough to tear Xaden’s concentration away. Gritting your teeth, you try again, rising with a hiss as you try to steady yourself. 

“Xaden, stop. Please.” You plead as you finally land before him. Your hands clamp around his face, bringing his gaze to yours, praying to Amari that you aren’t too late. “I love you, Xaden. Come back to me.”

Recognition flashes in his gaze as a pained gasp leaves his lips. You don’t even have two thoughts before you are dragged forward, and his face is buried in the crook of your neck. 

“I’m so sorry. So fucking sorry.” You hear the words wrecked and trembling leave his lips as warm tears begin to penetrate the dirty collar of your leathers. His arms wrapping fiercely around you as if you’re the only thing keeping him from drowning. 

You don’t even realize your own tears have begun to fall until they begin to hit your bloodied fingers that are tangled in his hair. Unsure of how long you sit there, sounds of battle raging around you, you hold tight needing the reassurance of Xaden’s body above you. 

As the tears begin to dry, your grip on Xaden begins to loosen, his eyes already trained on you. It takes every single nerve in your body to be locked in order not to flinch at the vivid red that now stares back at you, but Xaden must feel your body tighten anyway.

“I can only imagine how much of a monster I look like.” His voice is hollow as he turns his head looking away from you. 

“Xaden, you saved my life. Saved Sgaeyl. And every other person in this valley at the cost of yourself. You are anything but a monster.” Your words are meant to soothe, but you know there is only so much you can do for the man in front of you. 

He gives you a sad nod in return, but his face turns hard as his gaze travels behind your head. 

“I’m sorry I’m going to have to force your hand again, but I need you to come with me.” Your eyes flare and you bite your lip in worry at what he’s truly asking.

He must sense the turn of your thoughts, because his head shakes in answer.

“I’m not taking you away from here. If anything, I intend to put you behind the wards where even my own power will falter.” He says as he brings you to a stand, clear determination in his tone. “But for now, I need you to come with me, I have someone that owes me a favor.”

____________________

“We can’t honestly be doing this.” You worry your lip as you pace in front of Violet. 

“You can and you are. You are going to let Xaden give you the protection you’ll need once he’s gone.” Violet reasons though there’s no mistaking the sheen on her lash line.

“But what about you? Why am I the one to take his last name?” You question, the uncertainty gnawing at your insides.

“Because I have the protection of the Sorrengail name and my parent’s legacy. Plus, Navarre wouldn’t dare kill me when I am the tie to one of their now greatest enemies. They’d never waste the leverage.”

A sardonic huff leaves your lips as you pace at the back of the temple, nerves eating your insides. 

“I thought we’d have more time to discuss this. More time to convince Xaden that we all should be bound together.” You explain as you stop in front of Violet. “If your memories are wiped, how do I know that you won’t hate me? That you won’t think that this was my personal cost of the betrayal?”

Violet’s eyes soften as she walks towards you, palms outstretched grasping for your hands. 

“Because you must trust that I know you. Trust, I know both you and Xaden would never intentionally leave me behind, that you both love me enough not to cast me aside.”

“But why are you adamant that Imogen wipe your memories?” You ask in uncertainty.

“I need to know that there is nothing that will put either of you in danger and this is the best way that I can protect you both.” Violet reasons as she pulls you closer. “Navarre will stop at nothing to uncover any plan they think Xaden has in place and the fewer people that know, the better.”

The hazel in Violet’s eyes sparkles as she tugs you forward by your leathers. A sense of warmth settles into your bones the minute her lips meet yours. The kiss is like coming home, a warm hug wrapped in comfort and certainty. At this point, you know there is no way to talk her out of Xaden’s plan. 

“It’s time.” Xaden’s voice breaks you from Violet’s kiss. Both of you turning to the man who seems to look more inhuman as the time begins to tick by. 

You nod your head as you take Xaden’s outstretched hand. You take one last look at Violet before you are tugged into the temple. Each step feels like a sharp pull of destiny and dread, your own heart beating faster as the priestess comes into view. 

“You are both here to pledge your loyalty to each other and Dunne in her presence. What the goddess binds will never be torn.” You don’t miss the way the priestess slightly flinches away from Xaden, her eyes trained anywhere but on the red veins that line his temples.

Taking a deep breath, you let the priestesses’ words drift to the background and focus on the red eyes of the man who has held your entire heart in the palm of his hand. His hand squeezes yours, whether in reassurance or just love, you are unsure, but you let yourself hope. For just a moment in time, you let yourself wish for the future. 

For the day he will be cured, the day Violet remembers everything Imogen has torn from her mind, the day that the three of you can be together again in the bright light of day. 

It’s that hope that has you leaning into Xaden as he places the ring on your finger. The emotion that makes you push the gold band dotted with onyx stones onto his own. And it’s that hope and love that you wrap into the kiss that you will remember forever. 

________________

“What do you want me to tell Violet? I don’t know how to hold this and know her memories were taken.” You worry your lip again as you look over at your partner, dread lining your bones. 

Xaden steps forward, though you must hold yourself steady from taking a step back when looking into his now crimson eyes.

“Tell her we’re married and you can gift her the other ring. She will be protected by Navarre because of her signet and her mother’s legacy, along with Tairn and Andarna. Not to mention the way they will use our bond to try and find me.” He explains as he runs a hand through her hair before turning his eyes back to you.  “I refuse to leave without you protected as well. If she can’t see that is why things have shaped the way they have, then she will come around. Unfortunately, time isn’t on our side and she chose to have this be the way.”

“I gave into only her last time regarding safety and promises, and this is my promise to you, both of you.” Grabbing your hand, he brings the one with the ring laden finger to his lips. “Never again.”

There’s no way to control the shiver that runs down your spine, waring emotions tugging your chest between the love you have for your new husband and the fear of what he has become. 

“I may be the monster everyone thought I would turn into, but not to either of you. She’ll come around, and I’ll make it up to her, but I’m tired of leaving you in the dust. Tired of you not realizing that Violet may have my life in her hands, but you equally have the ability to destroy me.” Xaden rolls your hand in his, baring your wrist to him and he places a gentle kiss on your fluttering pulse.

You push past the veins that streak his temples like Violet’s lightning and wrap your hand around his neck bringing him down to you. Rising on your toes, you let your lips whisper over his until he dips further and consumes you. The kiss tastes of pain and regret, but buried below both is the love that you can feel threading through every sweep of his tongue.

“No one needs to know that you were captured. And I will forfeit my life before they have a chance again. But, Navarre needs to have no way to torture you or keep you. I know that you feel unprepared for the role, but I want you to lean on Aaric.” You don’t miss the pain in his eyes at the statement and the way his fists turn white as if trying to hold himself back. 

Grabbing you by the arms, he hauls you forward again. 

“I’ll be apologizing and making everything up to you for the rest of my fucking life. But, right now, I need you to be the stubborn, fearless, wonderful woman that you are.” 

His hands come and cup your jaw, bring your face up to his. “I’ve fucked this up more than anything else I’ve done in my entire life. You have no reason to forgive me, you had no reason to promise your life to me either, and, if when this war is over, you decide to change your mind, we’ll dissolve our marriage.” He takes a pained breath, the pulsing red in his temples reflecting a pain you’ve never seen. 

“But, for now, please let me do this. Let me protect you the only way I can – for now. Any other option will leave you exposed, and I won’t be able to focus on tearing the venin down if I don’t know that you both are safe.”

Your gaze is skeptical, memories of the last few months playing in your mind in loops. Your gaze sweeps between Violet’s sleeping form to the man in front of you. Or you suppose he’s still a man, your own knowledge of the progression of veninism lacking.

“I know I don’t deserve the possibility to have my life tied to yours, but gods help me, I want to be. Violet may be reckless fire, but you are the steady burn that warms me from the inside. I need you to keep me steady.  I need your constant to her unruliness.” His head comes down, lips landing in a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

This isn’t the first time you’ve felt the way Xaden tries to hold himself back when his emotions are scattered. His veiled attempt at control lacking where you and Violet are involved.

“Now it’s time for you to keep your own secrets. To keep yourself and Violet safe.” Xaden takes a deep breath, breathing in the scent of the woman who now bears his last name, his titles and all the weight that comes with it. The one he will leave to pick up the pieces of everything he let crumble. 

“I expect you to fucking fight Xaden Riorson.” The words leave on a pained whisper, the thought that you’ll never have enough time to bring back the love that had been lost in your relationship choking you. “You better keep that ring on your finger and come back like you promised for the lifetime you pledged. Anything less is unacceptable.”

Your fist hits his chest as the sob you’ve been holding in bursts from your chest. The minute your tears register, Xaden pulls you further into his arms, his head finds its home in your hair, hands splayed as far as they can to envelop your form. 

“I promise you. This isn’t the end.” 

And before you can even look back up at him, he’s gone. The chill of the evening settling itself into the marrow of your bones as you look around, searching for any sign of him.

The faint glint of moonlight catches itself in your periphery and draws your eyes down. As you bring your hand up, the sparkle of the emerald that now sits atop your finger dazzles your eyes. The promise that he will find you both again, that you and Violet would always be his priority as you all seek to destroy those who dare to keep you apart.

The thought settles into your bones as you begin the trek to Riorson House. Imogen trailing behind with Violet’s form on horseback. Back to the future that awaits and a territory that will look to you for guidance. 

You don’t know how you’re going to do this, how you’ll be able to keep from telling Violet everything, but as you walk through the dragons that have gathered, Rion’s pride flows unmistakably.  And if she is certain in your abilities for the future, along with Aaric’s steady hand, you know that you’ll deal with any of the obstacles that place themselves in your way. 

So, you walk forward. For a better future. A better world. One where those who deserve it can live freely without fear. One that you will not let gloss over you, that will know you for your power and not because you are the partner of Violet Sorrengail and wife of now traitor, Xaden Riorson, but as the new Duchess of Tyrrendor.

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