#riorson!reader

The first time they saw you, they only caught a glimpse of you; a small figure curled up on a soft patch of moss one second, darting off into the trees the next. They simply shrugged it off, too focused on their game of catch to dwell on it. If he had thought about it, Xaden simply would have assumed you had come to the forest with your family for a picnic or to pick berries, wandered a little ways off to take a nap in the sun, and ran back to your parents when the boys' loud playing woke you. By the time they returned home, Xaden had as good as forgotten about it.

But a few days later, they saw you again, and this time, you didn't run. They quickly realized why — you'd gotten so tangled up in a raspberry bush that you probably weren't able to get free without help.

You squirmed as they tied their horses to a nearby tree and approached you, eyes wide with fear and following their every move. In your effort to get away, you only ensnared yourself further in the brambles, thorns tearing at your clothes and bare arms.

"Easy, kid," Garrick said as the three of them stopped a few feet away from you, speaking in the same tone one might use to calm a skittish horse. "We just want to help you."

You stopped struggling at the words, gaze fixed on Garrick. Still, that fear remained on your face, making Xaden wonder just how you had ended up in this position. Had someone been chasing you? A wild animal frightened you?

He could ask while they freed you, he decided, taking a step closer with his hands held up to show you his empty palms. Eyes meeting yours, he put all the friendliness he could in his gaze, tried to appear as non-threatening as possible.

Bodhi and Garrick followed, moving just as slowly.

Close enough to start disentangling you, Xaden thought he heard a faint whimper and froze, his hand inches away from the brambles around your arm. Glancing at your face, you were breathing hard, eyes squeezed shut as if bracing for something painful. Another whimper followed, just as quiet, but this time Xaden was sure he heard it.

Softly, he said, "We're not going to hurt you. If you hold still, I think we can get you free without the thorns scratching you much, okay?"

You showed no reaction, but at least you kept still.

Xaden figured that was close enough to permission to help you; after all, they couldn't just leave you like this. They hadn't seen anyone else around, either, no adult you might belong with, who might do a better job of calming you. The fact struck Xaden as strange, since you seemed awfully little to be roaming the woods all by yourself, but he ignored that for now, focusing instead on getting you out of that bush.

With the three of them working together, it didn't take as long as Xaden had feared. Soon he could pick you up under the arms, Bodhi and Garrick pulling away the last of the brambles wrapped around your ankle.

Though you were heavier than you looked, Xaden could feel every single rib beneath his hands. He didn't know much about younger kids — his friends and closer acquaintances were all around his own age, a year or two younger at most — but he doubted your bones were supposed to be protruding like that. No more than five or six years old at the very most by Xaden's unskilled estimate, you should have still had some of that baby fat that made every toddler he had ever seen appear soft and chubby.

Underfed; that was what you were.

Taking a couple steps backward to make sure you were a safe distance from the tangle of raspberries, Xaden carefully set you back on your feet.

You still hadn't spoken a single word, had shown no indication you'd even heard the stream of questions and chatter the boys had tried to distract you with while they freed you. At least you had opened your eyes again.

"What were you even doing out here all alone?" Xaden asked again.

Just like before, you didn't answer, only continued to watch them.

With those too-skinny legs and wide, fearful eyes, you reminded Xaden of a fawn ready to bolt any moment.

"Where are your parents? Should we help you look for them?" Garrick tried.

When the result remained the same, he frowned, stepping closer to Xaden to whisper, "Do you think she's deaf, maybe?"

Xaden shrugged. You looked like you were listening when they spoke, eyes darting between them. Still, he repeated his earlier question to you in sign language, just in case.

No reaction.

Garrick crossed his arms, his frown deepening. "Great, so she doesn't understand us. What are we supposed to do with her now?"

"You don't know if she understands us or not," Xaden argued. "Maybe she just can't answer. Or doesn't want to."

He thought you might simply be too scared to talk to them, but didn't see any point in saying so. It didn't matter why you weren't speaking. Even if you were capable of words, it was your own decision whether or not to use them.

"Anyway it's mean to talk about her like she's not there," Bodhi interrupted. Before they could react, he leaned down to your height and asked, "Do you understand us?"

You nodded, the movement so small Xaden almost missed it.

It didn't surprise him at all that his cousin was the one to finally elicit a reaction from you. He was quieter than Xaden and Garrick, and preferred to trail after the older boys rather than make friends of his own, but he got along with just about everyone, was liked by everyone.

Even as he threw a I told you so-glare at them over his shoulder, he still looked friendly.

"Okay, Mr. Child-Whisperer," Garrick said, rolling his eyes, "but that doesn't help us figure out what to do now."

Garrick was right about that. They still didn't know how you'd ended up stuck in those brambles, why you were alone in the woods, where your family was and whether you needed help to find your way back to them. Without getting answers out of you, they couldn't decide what to do, and it was late afternoon already, so they would have to head home soon.

Xaden sat down in a crouch before you. If he made himself smaller than you, maybe you would be less intimidated. With yes or no questions, they should be able to figure out what they could do for you.

And yes — though still hesitant, you answered at least some of the questions they asked with nods or shakes of your head. Yes, you were alone. No, you hadn't been running from anyone or anything when you got tangled in the raspberries. No, you did not want them to look for your parents. No, nobody was coming to pick you up.

When Bodhi asked if you wanted them to take you to the nearby village where they assumed you must have come from, you shook your head again, but didn't let on whether that guess was correct or not.

Xaden suggested one of them should ride there to ask if anyone was missing a little girl while the other two remained with you, but you shook your head, more frantically this time.

Once again, Xaden wondered what you were so frightened of. Someone from the village, maybe?

"Okay, okay," Xaden placated. "No going to the village. Got it."

Indeed, you calmed at that.

"But we'll have to go home soon, you see. We could take you home first, but we'd have to know where it is to do that."

No reply to that, not even a shrug.

Out of ideas, the boys shared a helpless look.

You weren't acting like you were lost — or at least not how Xaden thought a small child who was lost would act. Though you still seemed on guard, you had relaxed a little, as if getting used to their presence. As strange as the situation was, nothing about your behavior suggested you needed help. What Xaden had interpreted as fear might have well been simple shyness, and if you needed help, surely you would have given them a sign of it. Even if you were unable or unwilling to communicate what exactly was wrong, you would have surely shown signs of distress at their mention of having to leave — would have started crying, or grabbed for them.

Maybe there was a perfectly harmless explanation — maybe one or both of your parents were woodsmen, maybe they had a cottage nearby that the boys didn't know of, and the reason you hadn't wanted Xaden to go into the village was simply that it would have been unnecessary since you didn't belong there. If you were used to the woods, it might not be so strange for you to be left unsupervised here for so long; how would he know?

Xaden tried to make himself believe that story, but only half succeeded. You looked dirty and tired — much more so than being stuck in those raspberries could explain. Like you'd been wandering though the forest for days.

"Are you going to be okay?" he asked. "If we leave you here?"

You nodded — not very convincingly, Xaden thought, but calling you a liar wouldn't change anything, so he kept his mouth shut. They had no choice but to go home and hope you really would be okay.

As they rode back to Aretia, Xaden's thoughts kept drifting back to you. He felt bad leaving you behind like they had, but what else could they have done? Kidnapped you? Stayed out until nightfall, making their own parents worry? They had lingered as long as they could. If they were late for supper, his dad or aunt might decide not to let them ride this far again anytime soon, and Xaden was determined to return the next day, to see if you would be there again and make sure you were alright. Fortunately it was the weekend, and Garrick was staying over at their place.

"Do you think the girl made it home?" Bodhi broke the heavy silence as they neared Riorson House.

"Hopefully," Xaden replied, glad he wasn't the only one who couldn't stop thinking about it.

"Do you think we should tell Mom or your dad? They could send someone to make sure she's okay. An adult, I mean."

Xaden considered it for a moment, then shook his head. "There's no point when we don't know if anything is actually wrong. We'll go back to check on the girl ourselves tomorrow."

Maybe it was selfish of him, but they were the ones who'd found you and earned a fraction your trust. If his father sent guards to look for you, they would only scare you. Likely as not, you would run and hide from them, as you had ran when the boys first saw you a few days ago. And if you really did live in the forest with your family, all the fuss would be for nothing.

"She's probably fine," Garrick said. "She didn't look like she minded when we left."

Xaden nodded. You had seemed content to remain in the woods.

He still didn't like it.

"I wish we knew her name," he changed the topic. "Then we could ask around if anyone knows her. And it's stupid having to call her the girl."

"Yeah, well, she wasn't exactly talkative."

"What if we call her Raspberry?" Bodhi suggested.

"We are not calling her raspberry."

"We have to call her something, though," his cousin insisted. "You just said it's stupid having to call her the girl."

"That doesn't mean we have to give her some ridiculous nickname. If we see her again tomorrow, we'll try if we can get her to tell us her actual name."

"If she can," Garrick added. "What do you think, is she mute?"

"I dunno. When we first got close to her, I'm pretty sure she whimpered."

Bodhi nodded. "And once or twice it looked like she wanted to say something, but then got too scared."

"Maybe she's got that thing you have, Bodhi." Xaden couldn't remember what it was called. "You know, where the words just won't come out sometimes."

It was something his cousin had struggled with a lot when he first started school, but thanks to therapy, it didn't seem to be as much of a problem anymore.

"Yeah, maybe."

The next day, they ate a rushed breakfast, saddled their horses and rode out to look for you, leaving the house even before their parents.

When they reached the tangle of raspberry bushes, you weren't there. Nor did they find you in the clearing where they'd first glimpsed you. Xaden didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed. If you were safe at home it would be good, but what if you were still wandering around somewhere? The forest was big, and you could have been anywhere inside it.

Even when Garrick and Bodhi started to grumble, saying you clearly weren't there anymore, he insisted they keep looking. After an hour and a half, doubt crept in. Maybe his friends were right, and he was chasing them through the woods for nothing. Even if you had been lost, your family would have found you by now and you were probably at home, telling your friends about your adventure.

Xaden didn't want to admit he was wrong, though. Stubbornly ignoring the increasingly exasperated glances passing between Bodhi and Garrick, he led his horse deeper into the forest.

His persistence payed off.

There you were, sitting by a small stream that trickled through the trees. You still wore the clothes from the day before, dirty and ripped from the thorns in places. Your face was still dirty too, Xaden noted as you turned to face them. Surprise shone in your eyes to see them, but you remained where you sat, didn't tense in fear. They really had earned some of your trust, then.

"Hi Raspberry," Bodhi greeted you.

Xaden elbowed his cousin, but you only blinked at the nickname, lifting a hand. It wasn't quite a wave, but close enough.

You seemed livelier than the day before, more open.

Xaden hoped that meant they'd be able to get some answers from you today somehow. He didn't think you were old enough to know how to write, but had brought a notepad and pencil all the same. Maybe you could draw them an explanation, if you weren't comfortable communicating any other way.

The boys sat down in the grass near you so the four of you formed a loose circle. Close to you, but not close enough to invade your space or make you feel cornered.

"What's your name?" Xaden asked after telling you his own and those of his companions, which he'd realized this morning they'd completely forgotten to do yesterday.

He was prepared for more of that silence, but to his surprise, you actually answered — so softly he almost didn't catch it, but you did answer.

"So she can speak!" Garrick shouted excitedly.

You flinched at the volume, and Xaden glared at his best friend, hissing at him not to be an ass.

Garrick had the decency to wince. "Sorry."

"What were you doing?" Bodhi wanted to know from you, but only received a shrug in answer.

Nothing, then.

"Did you go home last night?" Xaden asked.

You blinked, head cocked to the side, almost as if to say you didn't have such a thing.

Xaden tried again, rewording the question. "Did you sleep out here?"

When you nodded, he swallowed hard. They shouldn't have left you, should have tried harder to figure out how to help you. Should have told their parents about you like Bodhi had suggested.

"Why?" Garrick asked. "Are you lost?"

Inexplicably, you shook your head.

Xaden, Bodhi, and Garrick shared a confused look. If you weren't lost, then why in Amari's name would you be sleeping in the woods?

When Garrick asked as much, you only shrugged.

"Did you run away from home?"

You shook your head.

It didn't make sense. In fairy-tales like the ones Xaden's mother had read him when he'd been younger, children might live alone in the woods, raised by wolves or watched over by tree ghosts, but in real life, things like that weren't possible. In real life, the woods would be creepy and lonely at night. In real life, there were no friendly ghosts to keep an abandoned child from starving. In real life, there was no motherly love that might drive a wolf or bear to adopt a tiny human that somehow wandered into their territory. In real life, mothers left without explaining why they didn't love you anymore.

Xaden stilled, thoughts scratching to a stop.

Abandoned children, mothers that left... Could that be what had happened? A child being cast into the woods by their parents was another thing he would have assumed only happened in stories, but maybe he was wrong about that. It would explain why you were alone out here, why you hadn't wanted them to help you look for your parents.

"But you slept out here all alone, right?" Bodhi's voice interrupted his thoughts.

This time, you nodded, and his cousin asked, "Weren't you scared?"

Only another shrug at that. It seemed you really didn't like to speak; since telling them your name, you hadn't said a single word.

"How long have you been out here?" Xaden asked, dreading the answer.

You lifted your hand, hesitated, then held up four fingers — like you weren't entirely sure of the answer.

"Four days?"

A verbal answer this time, barely above a whisper. "Think so."

Xaden let out a curse his father would have probably grounded him for if he heard him say it. Four days alone in this forest. Maybe more, since you weren't certain of your count. Now he understood why you looked so dirty and exhausted.

Bodhi and Garrick also seemed alarmed, and Xaden knew they were all thinking the same thing: They were not leaving this forest without you today. Somehow, they would help you.

"Isn't there anyone who misses you?" Xaden pushed. "Someone who might be searching for you?"

"Nuh-uh."

"You don't have anywhere to go back to?"

Yet another shake of your head.

They would have to take you to Aretia with them, then. His father would know what to do, what authorities to invoke. In the meantime, you could stay with them at Riorson House. Maybe— Xaden started at the idea. Maybe you could even stay with them forever. If he could convince his father to adopt you...

Gods, how amazing that would be! A little sibling, just like he always wanted!

But he could think about it later. For now, they should try to get some more answers from you. The more they knew, the better they would be able to explain everything to the adults — and it would be them who would have to explain it, Xaden was sure. You would probably go all silent again when they brought you into a new situation, with new people you didn't know.

Piece by piece, they managed to get the story out of you, using yes or no questions as much as they could and giving you as much time as you needed when something required a spoken explanation. When you finished, Xaden was shaking with quiet rage, his mood matching the dark clouds that had rolled in to hide the sun.

Earlier this week, your mother had led you from the house at sunset, offering no explanation as to why — not until you'd been deep in the woods, where she'd declared she was leaving you there since she was tired of your behavior. When Xaden asked what exactly she had meant by that, you only shrugged. Difficult children deserved to be taken into the woods to be devoured by monsters; that's what your mother had apparently told you time and time again, and four days ago, she made true on that threat. She just left you there — left you to die, Xaden realized, even if you didn't. Summer was drawing to an end, the nights slowly getting colder. Even if by some miracle you managed to find enough berries to sustain you, you wouldn't have lasted more than a couple more weeks at most. Soon, the cold autumn winds would start blowing, followed by frost in the nights. If you were still out here by then, you would be dead. And if Xaden was old enough to realize that, then surely your mother had known it, too.

Xaden had never loathed anyone as much as he loathed your mother upon hearing that story. How a parent could do such a thing, he didn't know. His own mother might have left him, too, but there was no comparing that to what yours had done. Xaden, at least, still had his dad, had a home. You had no one and nothing. But you would, Xaden vowed. From now on, you would have him. Despite the differences of your situations, he knew all too well what it was like to be abandoned, what it must have felt like to have your mother turn her back on you without any explanation of what you had done to deserve it. The both of you could heal from those emotional wounds together.

"Okay, so your mom sucks," Garrick summed up. Xaden barely refrained from snapping what an understatement that was. "What about your dad?"

You cocked your head to the side, looking confused.

"Don't have one?" Bodhi guessed.

You nodded.

"That sucks," Garrick said again.

Bodhi gave you a comforting smile. "Don't worry, we'll find you a new home. And a new family. A better one."

"We can be your family," Xaden offered.

You turned your gaze upon him, a tentative smile forming on your lips — the first one they'd seen from you.

Still, when they prepared to ride home, you hesitated.

Xaden understood. After everything you'd been through — he was certain your mother hadn't treated you well even before casting you out — it made sense that you wouldn't trust any adults, and you knew that in the end, what happened to you wouldn't be up to Xaden and his friends, but to their parents.

Xaden was sure they would gladly help you, certainly weren't going to send you back to a mother who clearly didn't care for you. If they tried, Xaden wouldn't let them. As far as he was concerned, she had stopped being your mother the moment she walked away from you. Having done so once, there was no reason she wouldn't do it again if you were returned to her.

You deserved better than that.

Again, he thought that the best solution would be for his own father to adopt you. There were plenty of vacant rooms in the family wing of Riorson House, so space certainly wouldn't be an issue. And he didn't think his dad or aunt would mind having another child in the house. His aunt, especially, would probably be happy to dote on you. Maybe she should be the one to adopt you... But Xaden wanted a sister, not another cousin. When he'd been younger, he'd frequently asked his parents — begged them, really — for a little sibling, but they had only shaken their heads and reminded him he had Bodhi. And sure, the both of them were close, but a little cousin that lived with him just wasn't the same as a little sister of his own, especially since Bodhi was barely a year younger.

He shook his head. First of all, he had to bring you home. Anything else would come afterwards.

Xaden didn't know what it was that finally convinced you — the onset of rain, the prospect of a soft bed and warm meal, his assurance that their parents would not mind your presence, that they were kind, or maybe his promise that he would keep you safe, would make sure you never had to see your mother again. It didn't matter why you finally agreed to come home with them, only that you did.

Getting you onto his horse was comparatively easy. Even though you eyed the animal with the wariness of someone who'd never sat a horse before, you remained calm as Xaden hefted you into the saddle and swung himself up after you.

All the way home, he prayed that his father would agree to take you in. After almost half a year since Xaden's mom had left, his dad and aunt had stopped treading on eggshells around him, but they still tried to make up for her absence in whatever ways they could. He wasn't above taking advantage of that, if he had to. Whatever it took to convince his father to adopt you, Xaden would do it. He had promised to look after you, and he intended to keep that promise.

Xaden's dad was still working when they arrived, but luckily not in the middle of any important meetings. They found him in his office, going through some paperwork with Bodhi's mom. Good — if they were both there, the boys wouldn't have to explain the situation twice.

You kept close to Xaden as he peered into the room after knocking, hiding behind him.

"Dad, do you have a moment? It's important."

When his father nodded, Xaden entered the room, Bodhi and Garrick following. Caught in the middle of the group, you had no choice but to do the same.

Putting a hand on your shoulder, Xaden stepped aside so his father and aunt could see you.

"We found her in the woods," he explained. "Her mother left her there because she didn't want her anymore."

For a moment, they just stared.

All four of you were soaked from the rain, which had only gotten heavier once you'd left the shelter of the trees. With your wet hair plastered to your head, your wide eyes appeared even bigger, bones jutting through the clothes sticking to your skin. At least the rain had washed away most of the dirt.

"Let's get you dried off, then you can tell us everything," his aunt said, leaving the room to return with a stack of towels.

When all of you were wrapped in warm towels and had sat down, Xaden's dad turned to you. "So, my boy says you were left in the forest?"

"I don't think she can speak right now, dad," Xaden said after a quick glance at you. "It took forever for her to feel comfortable enough with us to tell us, and I think adults scare her even more."

"I see." Xaden's dad nodded and motioned for him to go on.

"She's not sure how long she's been out there, but probably about four days. Her mom told her she deserved to be left there because she was 'being difficult'. When we found her she was stuck in a raspberry bush and really scared of us at first."

Bodhi added, "And, well, obviously she can't go back to her mom so we took her with us."

"That was the right thing to do," Bodhi's mom praised, running a hand over his wet curls.

Just then, your stomach growled. Shrinking in on yourself even more, you threw a frightened glance between Xaden's dad and aunt, like you were expecting to be scolded for the sound.

They noticed it too.

"Let's get you something to eat before we do anything else," his dad said to you with a reassuring smile.

Xaden's aunt added, "And all four of you need a warm shower and dry clothes."

While Bodhi, his mom, and Garrick led you away, Xaden lingered in his father's office.

"Can we keep her?" he asked, earning himself a disapproving look from his father.

"She's not a stray dog, Xaden," he reprimanded.

"I know, dad. I didn't mean it like that. But can she stay with us? It's not like she has anywhere else to go. Please!"

Xaden knew it had been stupid of him to get attached to the idea of you becoming his sister before his dad even knew you existed, but the moment the thought had popped into his head, it had sunk its teeth into him and refused to let go. It would be good for both of you. Just like him, you had been abandoned by your mother; that alone already meant you could understand each other in a way no one else did. And Xaden thought he would make a great older brother. He had plenty of practice from being Bodhi's big cousin, which wasn't quite the same, but similar enough. And you'd come to trust him a lot already — Bodhi and Garrick, too, sure, but you were the most comfortable with Xaden. He could be your protector, make sure you would never have to be scared of anything again.

"For tonight, yes. She will stay with us until we find her a permanent home. But whether we can be that permanent home..." Dad thoughtfully shook his head. "I don't know, Xaden. I'll have to think on it."

When he started to argue, his father cut him off.

"I know you would like to have a sister, and I understand that you feel responsible for her since you're the ones who found her, but you have to think about what she needs, too, not just what you want. She needs parents who have a lot time for her, who can help her heal from what she's been through."

"But—"

"I said I would think about it, Xaden. And I promise that if she can't stay with us—" He raised a hand to stop Xaden as he opened his mouth to argue again. "If, Xaden. I'm not saying no yet. But if I decide she can't live with us, I'll try to find a family here in Aretia for her, so you can visit her."

"New people scare her," Xaden muttered — the only argument he could think of.

"I'll take that into consideration. Now go put on some dry clothes."

Xaden understood a dismissal when he heard one, so he turned to go to his room.

Though he wasn't foolish enough to say it, he thought his father's reasoning was stupid. It was true that being the duke of Aretia meant he was often very busy, but he always managed to make a little time for Xaden. Whether that time was spend with him alone or shared with you would hardly make any difference. Even if it did, that didn't mean that parents who didn't work and had more time for you would automatically be better parents.

Xaden didn't bother with a shower, just dried off and put on fresh clothes. When he was done, he went to see where you had gone.

He found you in his cousin's room, where he was trying to find something you could wear, while his mom was getting you something to eat. Luckily, there were a few items that had recently gotten too small for Bodhi, which his mom hadn't yet gotten rid of. They would still be too big on you, but better than anything of Xaden's. Until your own clothes were washed, it would do.

Taking the clothes from Bodhi, Xaden led you back to his own room and into the bathing chamber, let water into the tub and laid out a fresh towel and the clothes for you.

"You, uh— You're old enough to bathe on your own, right?"

He scratched his head, glancing between you and the tub. He'd never really thought about its size, but next to your tiny form, it suddenly seemed awfully big. Big enough to make him fear you might disappear in its depths, if he let it run full.

Your shrug wasn't exactly reassuring.

"Didn't you have a bathtub with your mom?"

"Nh-nh. Just a shower."

No, not reassuring at all.

"Do you know how to swim?"

A futile question, since the bathtub wasn't big enough to swim in, even for you, but if you could swim, it would mean you were at least familiar with water and its dangers.

You shook your head.

"I'll only fill it halfway, then," Xaden decided. After all, he hadn't brought you home just for you to drown in his bathtub. Glancing at it again, he realized it was already a little more than halfway full, and quickly stopped the water. "And I'll leave the door open. If you need anything, just—"

Just yell for me, he'd meant to say, but of course, you might not be able to. Crap.

Looking around, he spotted a fleck of color on top of the bathroom cabinet. He stepped onto the lid of the toilet and reached for the dust-coated rubber duck. It had been years since he even thought of the thing, but if he remembered correctly— Squeak.

Perfect.

Hopping down, he blew the dust from the duck and offered it to you. "If you need me, just squeeze it, okay?"

You nodded, and Xaden nodded back, rather pleased with his own resourcefulness.

"Alright. Go ahead then, before the water gets cold. I'll be right outside."

While you bathed and Xaden sat on his bed listening for sounds of drowning, Bodhi and his mom came in with a bowl of soup for you. Outside, the rain had stopped for the moment, so Garrick had gone home before it could start pouring again.

"I'm going to prepare one of the rooms down the hall for her," Xaden's aunt said. "You'll make sure she eats when she's done in the bath, yes, Xaden?"

Xaden nodded. Of course he would.

Bodhi, who had just sat down beside him, jumped back to his feet to follow his mother. "I'll help you."

She nodded. "Thank you, dear."

A few minutes later, you emerged from the bathing chamber, water still dripping from your hair. As expected, the old shirt you'd gotten from Bodhi was too big on you, but Xaden thought it made a pretty good nightgown. And you did look ready to crawl into bed, even though it wasn't even dinner time yet. You must have not gotten much sleep these past days in the woods.

As you ate, Xaden asked, "Do you know sign language?"

When you only looked at him confused, Xaden explained, "There's different movements you make with your hands that mean the same things as words. See, like this." He repeated what he'd said in sign language — or tried, at least. He wasn't very good at it himself just yet, but determined to get better in case it would help you. "I could teach you. Maybe it'll be easier than talking with your mouth."

You nodded, eyes shining with excitement.

Xaden wondered if your mother had ever bothered to offer you alternative ways of communication. Considering what he knew about her so far, he doubted it. The thought angered him. Even Xaden's dad, who didn't even know you, made more of an effort to make you feel safe and understood than your own mother ever had.

Soon the soup was gone, and your eyelids started to droop.

"Do you want to take a nap?" Xaden asked.

You shrugged, but obediently lay down in Xaden's bed and let him tuck you in when he tried.

"Sleep," he said, getting comfortable beside you. "I'll watch over you."

"You won't leave me alone?"

The question came out tentatively, but Xaden's heart still surged with pride that you felt safe enough with him to ask it at all.

"Never," he promised. "I'll always take care of you, no matter what."

"Even when I'm being difficult?"

"Especially then," Xaden assured you.

He figured that the moments when you behaved in a way your mother had deemed difficult were the ones where you needed caring for the most. That's how it was for him, at least. In the weeks and months after his mom had left, he'd acted plenty difficult — sulking around and snapping at everyone who came near, even as he desperately craved their comforting words and hugs, wanted to be reassured they wouldn't abandon him too.

With a relieved smile, you closed your eyes and soon drifted off.

Outside Xaden's room, his dad and aunt had overhead the conversation, which swayed them toward a decision.

"It would be cruel to send her away when she feels so safe here already," Bodhi's mom was saying.

Xaden's dad nodded. "I'm just worried she'll need more time and affection than I can give."

"Who says you have to raise her alone? We'll take care of her together, just like of our boys. It might be good for them, too — having a girl around."

He looked through the half-open door again, shaking his head. "We're just kidding ourselves if we pretend it hasn't already been decided, aren't we?"

"Indeed."

A quiet tapping sound made Xaden look to the open door. His father stood in the doorway, smiling slightly, and gestured for Xaden to come to him. He climbed out of bed, careful not to wake you.

Once he had joined his father in the hall, door closed behind him, Dad said, "I've decided."

Xaden blinked in surprise. It had only been a few hours. Not sure if the fact that his father had made his decision much faster than expected was a good thing, Xaden held his breath.

"It will take some time to get all the necessary papers, but once that's taken care of, you'll officially have a little sister."

Xaden threw himself at his father in a hug. "Thank you!"

"Not so loud," his dad chuckled, patting his back. "You'll wake her up."

The next morning, Xaden was awake earlier than you. 

You looked even more fragile in your sleep than you did awake, your little fingers curled around the edge of the pillowcase, face truly relaxed for the first time since Xaden had met you. He would do his best to ensure you would always feel this safe in the future. As your big brother, that would be his job, to keep you safe, and never ever let anybody hurt you, like your mother had, and Xaden was determined to take that responsibility very seriously.

Impatiently waiting to tell you the good news, he lay awake and watched your slumbering form. He knew better than to wake you up. The days alone in the woods had exhausted you, and you needed every minute of sleep you could get to recover. They'd even let you sleep through dinner last night, and when Xaden had climbed into bed beside you, you hadn't so much as stirred. At least you hadn't seemed to have any nightmares. Maybe that would come later — the following night, you would have to sleep in your own room, alone. Dad had allowed you to remain in Xaden's room the past night because he hadn't wanted to risk waking you, but he would not let this become a habit, Xaden knew.

Finally, you stirred. Xaden threw aside the illustrated book about weapons he'd grabbed from his bedside table after getting bored, and sat up.

"Guess what," he said by way of good morning.

"Huh?"

"My dad is adopting you!" He paused, suddenly realizing he hadn't really asked your opinion on the matter. "If you'd like that, I mean."

You slowly blinked up at him, eyes still heavy with sleep. "I— I can stay? Here?"

Xaden nodded, cheeks straining with how wide he was smiling. Gods, he hadn't smiled like this since before his mother had left. "This can be your home, if you want. And I'll be your brother."

Slowly, a smile lit up your face.

"Would you like that?" Xaden asked. He saw the answer on your face, but wanted confirmation.

You nodded, putting your little hand into his. "Brother."

The whispered word was the most beautiful sound Xaden had ever heard.

Your POV

The Fourth Wing of Basgiath had been buzzing with the news of the Prince of Navarre's arrival. It was safe to say, you was not as excited as the rest. As the crowd of students gathered outside, excited whispers filled the air. Among them, you stood alongside your friends Ridoc, Rhiannon, and Imogen, waiting eagerly for the sparring lesson to begin. Meanwhile, Xaden, the Wing Leader of Fourth Wing, stood a few feet away, his gaze fixed on you, his eyes dark with intensity.

The sound of approaching hooves caught everyone's attention, and all eyes turned to the entrance of the Fourth Wing training mat. There, atop a massive black steed, rode Prince Halden of Navarre, flanked by a score of armored soldiers. He dismounted, his usually navy navarrian uniform he wore, gleaming in the sunlight, his face set in an unreadable expression. As he made his way through the crowd, the students parted, some bowing respectfully, others gawking in awe.

Eventually, his eyes came to rest on you, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. Xaden’s sharp gaze flickers to Halden the second he steps onto the training mat, his instincts screaming that something’s off. His jaw tenses as the prince strides toward you with all the arrogance of a man who thinks he owns the world and worse, reading his intentions that for some reason he thinks he owns you.

Ridoc nudges you with an elbow, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Why does His Royal Pain in the Ass look like he wants to devour you whole? Did you steal his favorite dagger or something?"

You grimace. “Ugh, remember the ex I refused to tell you the name of? The one who slept with half of Navarre and basically had this weird obsession with me after I left him?”

Rhiannon chokes on air and Ridoc whips his head toward Halden so fast it’s a miracle his neck doesn’t snap. Imogen just grins and pats your shoulder like she’s already writing your eulogy in her head. “ ohhh good luck explaining that one” she sing songs and mentions no names in particular,before glancing pointedly at xaden across the mat,where he is now very much not looking at Garrick anymore but instead glaring daggers at Halden's back.

Your stomach plummets when Xaden tilts his head ever so slightly, his signet flaring as shadows coil around him like restless vipers sensing blood in the water. You gulp hard under Imogen's smirk and mutter.

“uhh fuck”

The tension in the air is palpable, and Xaden can practically feel the rage bubbling beneath his skin. But he had to keep it under control, you wasn’t his. But gods he wanted you to be. But before he can intervene, Garrick steps in, taking charge effectively, as always.

“Alright, gather round, Fourth Wing. We have a special guest with us today. Introduce yourself, Halden,” Garrick says, his tone cool and even as he gestures towards the Prince. Halden, oozing smug confidence, steps forward, his gaze still locked onto you. “Prince Halden of Navarre. It's a pleasure to be here. I look forward to seeing what your students are made of."

Xaden's shadows flicker dangerously as Halden speaks, his jaw clenching hard enough to crack stone. But then his gaze snaps to you when he hears your thoughts through the bond and you let your shields down just so slightly when speaking to ridoc just then.

“Wait...the crown prince is your what? The one who..” you cut him off and put your shields up before he could finish that sentence. That pissed him off and his dark eyes narrowing into slits of pure murder.

Meanwhile, Halden has the audacity to walk towards you as the students split into groups and to reach for your wrist like he still has any right to touch you. “A word. Now." His voice is all silk-coated command as if you’d ever obey him again. Before you even thinking about reacting In a way that could get you into deep shit and before Xaden can bodily remove Halden’s arm from its socket. Ridoc lets out a low whistle in your direction, causing you to smirk at his response. “Yikes. Someone’s about to become dragon chow." and Rhiannon elbows him while Imogen just smirks and mouths. “Should I start a betting pool on how fast Riorson kills him?”

You yank your wrist back slightly but not causing too much attention. You give him a glare that could melt steel, stepping away from Halden like he’s a damn rotting corpse. Smiling effortlessly but seething inside. “Touch me again and I’ll feed you to Tairn myself,Your Highness.” The title drips with venom, and you don’t bother hiding the loathing in your voice, even though your face shows restraint and pleasantries.

Halden has the nerve to smirk. “Still as fiery as ever, I see. Miss me?”

Your fingers twitch toward the dagger at your thigh,but before you can act on violent impulse, a shadow slithers between you two like a living barrier. Xaden doesn’t even look over, but his voice cuts through the air like cold steel.

“Move along, Prince Or did Navarre forget to teach its royals basic manners?” The threat in his tone is unmistakable.

Ridoc fake coughs into his fist “Ohhhh shit.”

Imogen grins wickedly at Rhiannon, “Ten silver on Riorson snapping before lunch.”

Rhiannon rolls her eyes but nudges her toward Garrick. “Make it twenty if y/n stabs him first."

(Xaden's POV)

The second Halden’s fingers closed around her wrist, something inside me snapped. My shadows coiled violently at my feet, writhing like living things,like they wanted nothing more than to tear the prince apart for daring to touch what was mine.

Mine.

Not his. Never fucking his. But was she even mine?

I could hear their conversation clear as day through the bond,her disgust, her fury, and that bastard smirking like he still had any right to breathe in her direction. My jaw clenched so tight I tasted blood.

Then she threatened him with Tairn like the absolute menace she was, and gods help me if that didn’t make me want to pin her against the nearest wall and kiss her until she forgot how to breathe. Enemies first,I reminded myself sharply. Lovers later. If I even got that far before murdering someone today.

Garrick shot me a warning look from across the mat where he was overseeing warm-ups. Of course he knew exactly what kind of damage control this situation needed before it escalated into a full-blown diplomatic incident or worse, a body count. But when Halden leaned in closer like he might try some other stupid shit? Control went out the window faster than Ridoc dodging drills.

One step forward, I warned the prince of Navarre. Claiming some shit about manners. But before I could further intervene, not that she needed my help.

“Riorson!” Dain Aetos barked from somewhere behind us all. Fuck sake. Him suddenly appearing because apparently today wasn’t already going poorly enough. “Wingleader duties include keeping order or does your signet only work on intimidation?” He sneered while glancing pointedly at where my shadows were currently eating away half our goddamn light source. Aetos, being the usual pain in my fucking ass. Gods it made me want to give him the position if it meant I could do as I pleased and not follow rank.

Oh fuck no, not now Aetos…

But then y/n met my gaze over the prince’s shoulder and rolled her eyes so hard I swore they'd get stuck there permanently before mouthing worss down the bond “Later, I’m handling it”

That single promise sent heat straight through every inch of me because we both knew exactly what "later" meant between us these days, battle first then maybe something else entirely if either one of us survived long enough without killing each other...or anyone else who dared interfere in whatever this thing brewing between us had become lately,enemy territory be damned .

So fine , we'll do things proper for once since clearly everyone wanted front row seats tonight anyway . I bared teeth at Garrick who sighed heavily knowing full well what kind hellfire awaited squad training if I don’t keep my shit together.

(Your POV)

Garrick shook his head, trying to salvage the situation before it became a full blown disaster. "Alright, Alright." He stepped forward, his voice carrying over the tension. "We're here to train, not start a damn war. Prince,I err, think you should unhand our student and Lets give the students some space to warm up, if you would be so kind."

Halden, ever the cocky jerk, smirked even wider, his eyes flicking between you and Xaden.

Halden’s grip on your wrist loosens slightly, but he doesn’t let go. Instead, he leans in, his breath brushing against your ear as his voice drops to a whisper meant only for you. “ I’ve Missed watching you fight, You always were a sight, especially when violent” His fingers trail down your arm with deliberate slowness before he finally releases you,just as Garrick clears his throat pointedly behind him. The bastard has the audacity to wink at you before sauntering off to take his seat among the observers, leaving behind nothing but rage simmering beneath your skin and that scent,expensive cologne mixed with entitlement that makes your lip curl in disgust.

But what makes your pulse stutter is not Halden’s taunting words or lingering touch,it's the searing intensity of Xaden’s gaze burning into the side of your face from across the courtyard like an open flame waiting to consume everything in its path. You don’t even have time to brace yourself before his voice slices through yours thoughts like steel through silk,

“You are going to Spar with me, Now” No request,a command laced with something far darker than rivalry now... something possessive... something hungry enough that it sends heat coiling low in gut despite every ounce common sense screaming otherwise right now .

(Xaden's POV)

I shouldn't have said it.

Shouldn't be testing limits while the Crown prince watches us both like we're entertainment. But seeing him touch her? Hearing those whispered words meant just for her? No amount self control was going stop what happened next once she stepped onto mat beside me because truth be told? I needed answers more than air right now .

And if Violence wanted play games today?

Well then ...

Let them begin .

(Your POV)

The second you step onto the mat opposite me, the air crackles with tension. The rest of Fourth Wing has gone unnervingly quiet, watching like this is some kind of spectacle and maybe it is. Halden lounges in his seat like a king observing gladiators, and I want nothing more than to wipe that smirk off his face with my bare hands.

But first? You.

You settle into stance, jaw set, eyes locked on mine with that same defiance I both love and hate about you. My shadows coil at my feet as I circle slowly,testing. “You could’ve told me," he growls through our bond so only you can hear it over the sound of shifting footsteps around us.

Your lips barely twitch as we trade quick blows,blocking a strike to your ribs before countering hard enough that my forearm stings from absorbing the hit properly."Told you what exactly Riorson?" Your mental voice drips sarcasm."That my dating history includes royal idiots?Sorry,didn't realize we were sharing feelings now."

You lunge low,you dodge smoothly but not fast enough because suddenly there's no space left between us when crowd cheers loudly following another student’s takedown nearby distracting for half-second too long... leaving room for mistake where none should exist between fighters our level. Our hands locking together tightly above heads while bodies press close enough feel each other ragged breath mixing in heated silence .

Gods damn him .

His grip tightens around yours painfully until knuckles ache under pressure but refusing to yield even inch back despite how much taller he stands right now. Casting shadows over the entire world besides him.That dark gaze,burning straight through every wall ever built against men exactly like him.

“Why didn’t you have your shields up?” He demands internally while the outside world sees nothing beyond two people locked in combat, struggling dominance. But except in the way your thumb brushes along the inside of his wrist. Where his pulse races traitorously beneath his skin,betraying what words won't admit aloud yet. “You let me hear everything back there,Violence.” A taunt edged sharp as dagger pressing between your ribs daring denial… “Was you hoping it would piss me off ?”

Out loud though,all anyone hears is grunt followed by sudden twists,sending your body slamming onto the mat beneath his weight heavy armor, his knee plants firmly beside you.

The second Xaden pins you, his body pressing yours into the mat, your pulse kicks up, not from fear, but from the way his eyes burn down at you like he’s seconds away from either killing you or kissing you. You refuse to let him win that easily.

With a sharp twist of your hips and a well-placed elbow to his ribs,the one spot not covered, you lean in so your face is inches from his, a distraction, more fool him. You break free just enough to flip him onto his back in one fluid motion. The crowd erupts,some cheering, others gasping as no one can take on the wingleader in hand to hand combat. But all you hear is Xaden’s low growl as he rolls beneath you, shifting before your knee can fully pin him down. His hand snakes out and locks around your wrist like iron while the other grips the back of your neck possessively, keeping our faces inches apart for everyone watching but far closer in reality through this cursed bond between us…

“Answer me.” His voice is pure venom inside your heads,even as you wrestle for dominance on that damned mat under guise sparring match, it was meant to be a teaching lesson, not whatever this has become instead. And gods help you because part of you thrills at making him lose control like this. When normally nothing shakes Riorson unless he wants to be shaken first.

All anyone else sees is two fighters locked in a brutal exchange,where neither are willing to yield yet. Your friends on the other hand, know what’s going down. Halden ever oblivious up there too. He’s just fascinated by you. Xaden’s shadows writhe violently around you,betraying far more than either would ever admit aloud right now... Especially with said certain prince watching every flicker of emotion cross both of your faces with interest. It was bordering predatory amusement. You tighten your grip on Xaden’s wrist, digging your nails in just enough to make him feel it. Just a little pain for his nosy-ass questions. Your mental voice drips with sarcasm as you twist your knee into him, barely avoiding getting pinned again.

“Oh, I'm sorry, Riorson. I didn't realize my dating history fell under your jurisdiction now..." You shove against his chest with all your strength,not that it bothers him much but the glare he shoots you is worth it. “What's next? A full interrogation on who I've kissed and slept with too?"

His shadows coil tighter around you both like they’re trying to cage you in, and gods damn it if that doesn’t send a traitorous thrill down your spine. His lips curl into something between a snarl and a smirk as he leans closer through the struggle of limbs and leverage, breath hot against yours despite being tangled up in what looks like ruthless combat to anyone watching.

“If that's an invitation," his voice hums darkly down the bond before flipping positions again so fast even Garrick raises an eyebrow from across courtyard, “then consider me thoroughly invested."

Halden chuckles lazily from sidelines where he sits observing everything unfold but missing half truths hidden beneath this fight entirely… until Ridoc loudly whispers beside Imogen, “Are we still betting on murder or has this escalated into foreplay?”

Xaden hears him too because suddenly there’s teeth pressing lightly against your pulse point,when he then rolls atop once more,just for one searing second before reluctantly breaking apart from you abruptly as dain shouts something useless about proper wingleader and student conduct during sparring sessions.

Neither of us acknowledge him though… not when shadow wreathed fingers linger longer than necessary after helping each other off the ground moments later either. You glance towards Halden who reveals a smug satisfaction, Gods you’d do anything to wipe it clean off his face, if only he would realise whatever game we are playing here doesn't involve him anymore. The moment Xaden’s shadows release you, the air between you is still thick with tension,unresolved and electric. You wipe sweat from your brow, ignoring how your pulse hasn’t slowed since he had his teeth at your throat. Ridoc wolf-whistles low under his breath, and Imogen smirks like she’s already planning the wedding just to spite everyone in the quadrant.

Halden claps slowly from his seat,condescending bastard,his smirk widening as if this entire display has been for his entertainment. Gods what did you ever see in him. “Bravo,” he drawls, voice dripping with faux admiration. He slowly walks down the stairs and urges you to come sit with him, glaring at xaden with a smirk as he does so. But you wasn’t going to refuse the crown prince and cause a scene. “You always did have a talent for… intensity.” His gaze flicks to Xaden again like a challenge, because of course he can’t resist poking the dragon who very clearly wants him dead.

Xaden doesn't react visibly of course he doesn't,but through the bond. A dark promise unfurls in your mind like ink dropped into water “That crown won't protect him forever and we are having a nice little chat later”. A shiver races down your spine that has nothing to do with fear. Garrick clears his throat pointedly before this turns into another near murder session masquerading as sparring practice. “Alright then! Let's move on before someone loses an eye or worse, their dignity." He shoots a look at xaden,that screams stay out of it, she can handle him. He then gestures sharply toward Rhiannon and Ridoc."Next pair up!"

You step back from Xaden reluctantly as halden moves you away to take a seat. Why does it feel like stepping away from lightning,catching one last glint of something dangerous in his eyes before turning away...

Halden leans in just enough to murmur “Still making men lose their minds over you, I see." His fingers ghost along yours, Also letting them linger far too long despite knowing exactly who's watching. “I'd ask if Riorson knows what kind of fire he's playing with… but judging by how possessive those shadows looked?" He chuckles darkly, “Ohh…he definitely does."

Behind you, the temperature drops roughly ten degrees as familiar shadowy tendrils slither warningly along stone floor straight toward where Prince stands too close for anyone's comfort.

You tilt your head, smiling sweetly,the kind of smile that makes lesser men sweat. "Funny," you murmur, keeping your tone light as you casually put more distance between yourself and Halden's wandering hands. "I don't recall asking for your commentary on my life and you of all people know, I don’t belong to anyone, your highness” Your fingers tap idly against the hilt of your dagger,just a reminder, just in case he forgot who exactly he was trying to play games with.

Xaden’s shadows twitch at the edges of your vision in approval or possessiveness, it was hard to tell with him.

Halden chuckles, undeterred. "Still sharp as ever." His gaze flicks over towards where Xaden stands rigid on the mat, watching. Halden then adding “All edges intact… or has Riorson finally found a way to dull them sharp edges?"

A growl reverberates in your skull like distant thunder, raw and pissed. “I swear to gods if he doesn't remove his eyes from you in the next three seconds”

You smirk inwardly but keep up the sickeningly polite facade for Halden’s benefit. “Oh don’t worry about my edges,Your Highness,” You lean in slightly,voice dripping saccharine venom. “They cut deeper now than they ever did for you I assure you.” Then straighten up smoothly before turning away with a dismissive wave... right into Dain Aetos stepping directly into your path like an overeager watchdog looking for trouble,as usual.

Great. Just what this situation needed ,another insufferable man his nose in.

Your smile freezes slightly as Dain steps into your path, his expression caught somewhere between concern and lingering guilt. You hadn’t spoken much since he violated your trust, but the familiar worry in his eyes is a bitter reminder of the friendship you used to have.

“Hey,”Dain starts awkwardly, shooting a glance over your shoulder at Halden before meeting your gaze again. “Just… wanted to make sure you were good. I know” He hesitates like he’s walking on glass,which he is but for once, it doesn’t feel entirely performative. “I know it must be weird, considering the history..”

You exhale sharply through your nose and cross your arms, torn between snapping at him for daring to act like he still has any right to care about anything in your life and acknowledging that yeah… maybe part of you misses the friend who used to have your back before everything went sideways with us both being assholes.

“I’m fine dain,now if you excuse me” you offer a smile and you move past him towards where Imogen watches entire scene unfold with barely contained delight.

Halden remains seated nearby observing entire exchange. Imogen sighs dreamily as you approach and slide in next to her on the bench.

“you good there?” she smirks.

You collapse onto the bench beside Imogen with an exaggerated groan, rolling your shoulders as if you could physically shake off the entire mess of this morning. "Oh yeah, just fantastic”you drawl, shooting her a look dripping with sarcasm. "Nothing like getting manhandled by Riorson in front of my crazed obsessor and the prince or the realm to really start the day right."

Imogen grins, kicking her boots up on the stone ledge in front of her like she’s settling in for a damn theater performance. “Mmhmm. And let me guess, you in for a grilling from riorson later?” Her smirk widens at your glare before she leans closer and lowers her voice conspiratorially. “Ten silver says he corners you before lunch.” You scoff and shove at her shoulder halfheartedly, but your stomach does an inconvenient flip at the thought,because damn him if he hasn't already made sure later would haunt every second until it happened. Whether that was a threat or something else entirely? Well… You weren’t stupid enough to admit out loud how badly part of you wanted to find out right here and now where everyone could see what kind fire we were playing with... including Halden who still watching from afar smug bastard knew exactly what buttons pressing today...

Meanwhile across courtyard, Shadows coiled tighter around Xaden as Garrick clapped loudly calling next sparring pairs forward.

“You’re too weak for a dragon,” he hisses as he squeezes harder. Black dots spot your vision.

Your gaze flicks around as you try to think of what to do. You quickly find your brother, Xaden, and his friend, Garrick, standing with your friends, watching you with varying degrees of concern. You look away. Their faces will soon shift to disappointment at you being so weak, and you can’t bear to see it.

Your eyes land on your squad leader next. Dain Aetos. You’re not sure why you look at him. He can’t help, can’t interfere—it’s what he’s drilled into all of you over and over again—but as you watch him, you can’t help but notice that he looks… tense.

You can’t think of why. Most Navarrians would be relieved for a marked one like you to kick the bucket. That thought sends a pang of sadness through you. You loathe to admit—even to yourself—that you have a slight crush on him. You’ve tried to convince yourself it’s just hormones. You’ve yet to hook up with anyone at Basgiath, too busy training to bond a dragon during the day and collapsing in your bunk at night. You’re sure that a quick roll in the sheets with another cadet would fix you right up, but as the black dots in your vision grow, unconsciousness creeping closer, Dain’s hands shift to his front. To anyone else, it would look like a casual stance, but you see him move his fingers in a circling motion.

Oh shit. He’s helping you.

It takes everything in you to throw your weight to the side and roll until you and Jack are separated by mere inches. You don’t hesitate. You bring your knees up to your chest, appearing as if you’re in the fetal position, until you shove your legs out in front of you with as much power as you can, your boots slamming into Jack’s chest.

Jack groans, his hand going to soothe the ache in his chest, and you try your best to catch your breath as you stand. You kick him again and again while he still lies on the mat.

It’s pathetic, really. You’re unstable and swaying, the room spinning fast enough to cause bile to rise in your throat, and you are quite literally kicking a man while he’s down.

Professor Emetarrio must have seen enough because he calls for the end of the challenge.

You brace your hands on your knees as you hunch over, still gasping for breath. Once the dizziness subsides enough for you to stop feeling like you’re about to keel over, you walk toward your squad.

You pass Dain on your way, noting his rigid posture. His jaw is clenched, his arms crossed tightly across his chest. His eyes never leave you.

When the next challenge begins, he’s suddenly at your side. His hand is at your elbow, firm but careful, guiding you out of the sparring gym.

“You’re going to the infirmary,” he says, voice clipped.

You don’t argue.

He leads you to the Healer’s Quadrant and subsequently to the infirmary, dropping you down on a cot per Winifred’s instructions.

Winifred fusses over you, muttering about bruised cartilage, strained muscles, nearly crushed windpipe. You lie back on the cot, chest rising and falling unsteadily. The pain dulls slightly after drinking a tonic, but your head is hazy.

Through it all, Dain doesn’t leave. He stays in the chair beside your bed, arms on his knees, hands clasped so tightly the knuckles whiten. His eyes track every movement Winifred makes, every time you wince in pain, every breath you drag in.

When Winifred departs with instructions to rest, you shift slightly, blinking at him. “Why are you still here?”

He freezes. For a moment, you think he might brush it off, might feed you some empty line about duty or making sure you can walk back to the barracks. But that’s not Dain Aetos.

Dain Aetos has never been a liar.

“I shouldn’t be,” he admits quietly. His voice is raw, like gravel. “I should’ve walked out the moment Winifred was with you. I should be with our squad, doing what’s expected of me.”

You tilt your head, frowning. “Then why—?”

“Because I can’t stay away from you.” The words burst from him, sharp with the force of truth. He swears softly, dragging a hand through his hair, but he doesn’t stop. “You’re Xaden’s sister. My cadet. My responsibility. Everything about this is wrong. I know that. I’ve tried to bury it. To shove it so deep it’ll never see the light of day.” His jaw tightens, his hands curling into fists. “But when Barlowe had his arm around your throat, I nearly lost it. It took everything in me not to charge onto that mat and rip him off you.”

Your chest aches from the weight of his confession.

“You care about me,” you whisper, like saying it aloud makes it real.

His eyes snap to yours. They burn, molten with feelings he’s fought so long to smother. “More than I should.”

Silence stretches between you. Your breath catches, and you find yourself reaching, your fingers brushing over the back of his clenched fist. His hand opens instantly, like it’s been waiting for yours all along.

“Dain,” you murmur, your voice softer than the linen sheets beneath you.

He shakes his head once, a bitter edge to it. “Tell me to leave, and I will. Tell me this can’t happen, and I’ll bury it again. For you. For all the rules that say I don’t get to want you.”

You swallow hard.

Slowly, you lace your fingers through his, and whisper, “Stay.”

The tension in him washes away instantly. His shoulders sag, his breath shudders out, and he bows his head until his forehead rests against the edge of your cot, still holding your hand like it’s the only tether keeping him grounded.

“I shouldn’t,” he murmurs again, but there’s no fight left in it. Only relief.

Your thumb strokes over his knuckles, gentle, steady. “But you are.”

The moment is interrupted by the sound of the curtain around your cot being ripped open, startling you and Dain. Your brother stares down at the two of you, his jaw clenched, nostrils flaring.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Xaden demands through gritted teeth.

You try to push yourself up too fast and wince, both men’s gaze narrowing in on the reaction, Dain’s hand moving to support your back. You face your brother with as much steel in your expression as you can manage.

“Dain helped me to the infirmary,” you say, glancing at Dain. “And we… talked.”

“Talked?” your brother asks, his tone conveying his dismay at the situation he’s found you in.

Dain stands, his hand sliding up to grip your shoulder. “I told her I cared about her. As more than a friend.”

“Is that so?” Your brother’s voice is deceptively calm, sending chills down your spine. “May I have a word with my sister? Alone.”

Though he phrases it as a question, you all know he’s not asking. You nod anyway, conveying to Dain that it’s alright with your eyes.

Dain sighs, squeezes your shoulder, and with a backward glance at you, leaves the cubicle.

Xaden waits for the curtain to close, and the sound of Dain’s receding footsteps before whirling on you. “What the fuck are you thinking? Aetos? Really? You could fuck almost anyone in this entire college and I wouldn’t bat an eye, and you just had to choose him?”

Your face heats with anger and embarrassment. “First of all,” you growl, “I haven’t fucked him, not that it’s any of your damn business.”

“It is my business!” he interrupts. “You are my business. As my little sister, and as my heir should things go sideways, everything you do is my business. We’re—fuck.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose before motioning for you to move your legs. He takes a deep breath once he sits down, the anger in his eyes melting into something softer. “We are in the middle of the second rebellion,” he whispers. “I don’t want to be the mean, controlling older brother, but I have to draw a line here. Being associated with him could put us all in danger. We have lives counting on us. Is he really worth sentencing us and all our friends to death?”

“He’s not what you think,” you mutter. At Xaden’s disbelieving face, you continue. “He’s not! He’s… kind. And responsible, and caring, and—” You sigh. “It’s not like I’m planning to tell him all my secrets tomorrow. I don’t even know if we’ll work out. But I really like him, Xaden, and I would appreciate it if you had a little more faith in me. And maybe got off your high horse. Getting involved with the Commanding General’s daughter is way worse than some measly Colonel’s son.”

Xaden scoffs a laugh at that, then his face grows more serious. “I don’t like it. I don’t like him. But you are my sister, and I do trust you. Just try not to get us all killed, would you? I’d hate to meet Dad in Malek’s realm and explain how we got there.”

You can’t help the laugh that slips free, grateful your brother is trusting you. “Thank you, Xaden,” you murmur. “I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t,” he responds without hesitation, patting your knee. “You can quit sulking now, Aetos,” he calls out toward the curtain, causing you to squeak in horror.

“Xaden!” you admonish, but he just rolls his eyes and stares down the curtains.

The curtain is pulled back, and judging by the look on Dain’s face, he is not happy with your brother’s comment but is doing his best to not take the bait. “You called?” he asks, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

Xaden rises from the cot, and your body tenses. You may not be in the best shape at the moment, but if they fight, you’re the only one around to break them up. Or to run and find Garrick so he can break them up.

“I have decided not to kill you for being involved with my sister,” he says, sticking his hand out.

Dain eyes it warily, then looks at you for direction. At your nod, he clasps Xaden’s hand with his.

Xaden immediately crushes Dain’s hand, squeezing until his knuckles are white and Dain’s fingertips turn purple. “But if you ever,” he starts through gritted teeth, “hurt my sister, physically or emotionally, directly or indirectly, I will chop off your balls and hang them as mistletoe for Winter Solstice. Are we clear?”

You’re certain your jaw has dropped all the way down to the Archives, but Dain simply shakes his hand. “We’re clear.”

Xaden nods, releases Dain from his death grip, and heads for the curtain. “I’ll see you later,” he says to you. “I’m going to go kill Barlowe while Garrick uselessly tries to stop me.” He slides a glare toward Dain. “Try not to add yourself to the list.”

At Dain’s nod, he leaves, you and Dain in relative privacy once again.

You chuckle nervously. “I am so sorry about that, he can be a real—”

“Dick?” Dain supplies as he moves to take Xaden’s previous place on your cot. “I’m aware. But it’s alright. I don’t know what it’s like to have a little sister, but I can’t promise I’d be much better if roles were reversed. I’m just glad he’s decided not to kill me for the time being.”

A big smile spreads across your face. “So he didn’t scare you off for the foreseeable future?”

Dain scoffs. “No. Don’t get me wrong, your brother is terrifying. But it’s going to take a lot more than death threats to get me to leave you alone.”

“What could possibly be worse than death threats?” you tease.

“I guess we’ll never know,” he shrugs. “Because I finally get to call you mine, and I am never letting you go.”

You lean forward slowly, eyes flicking back and forth between Dain’s eyes and lips.

He beats you to it though, surging forward, connecting his lips with yours, his hand coming up to cradle your jaw.

A/N: This has become a mini series, but can also be read as a standalone.

Part 1 Part 2

Also 5.5k and lots of angst. Hope you enjoy!

Violet had apparently been researching how to raise the wards in Aretia and now we were making plans to break into the Archives. It was completely insane and had far more chance of failing than success. Everyone else seemed to think this was completely fine.

I could tell Xaden was at least a little reluctant. He trusted Violet, but not Aaric, who was vital to Violet’s plan and apparently actually the prince in disguise. I agreed with him, at least on the latter. I still wasn't confident that Violet was going to keep our secret, especially after she told her entire squad, which was far too many people who knew. She could’ve gone to her mom last year after Resson, but she was also the reason we were even there in the first place. 

"There are so many things that can go wrong with this plan. She really doesn't have any clue where the journal is, what it looks like, or what protections are around it. We are risking everything for this plan just on her word" I have really tried to like her, but every time I looked at her I see not only the striking resemblance to the woman who spent hours carving into my brothers back, but also the reminder that it was her inability to control her mind that got Liam killed. No matter how many times Xaden said it wasn't her fault that doesn’t change the fact that  if he never told her about the supply drops, then Liam would still be here. I couldn’t understand how he could possibly trust her after everything. I wanted him to see the version of her I saw. I knew it was wrong and I honestly knew it wasn't going to work, but I pushed anyway. Using my second signet I tried to force the thought of distrust into his head. The impact was almost immediate, his shields slammed up so hard I physically stumbled. He was expecting it, damn his signet. 

"Knock it the fuck off." He growled, rounding on me and towering over me. Bodhi was the only other person that knew the double meaning behind that and he glanced between us anxiously. We’ve been at each other’s throats constantly and I knew it was frustrating for him. "This is Violet's plan and it's the best we have, so shut up and do what you're told." His condescending tone set my teeth on edge and made me feel like a scolded child. Fire sparked momentarily in my hands before Bodhi cut it off, stepping between us. 

"You're both right. It's not without its risks. We all decide if we want to do this. Anyone who doesn't want to go down there and risk dying can stay. Even if we do this and we get out, if someone catches us we're dead." Violet spoke up, unease filling her tone. I have to at least give her credit, she was far more humble than anyone else in this room. 

"I'm in," her best friend, Rhiannon said first.

"Oh you know I'm in!" Ridoc agreed as well. 

"We stick together." Sawyer added. One by one everyone affirmed their decision to go for these journals that were the key to our survival. 

"I'll follow you anywhere." Xaden declared before immediately turning his gaze to me expectantly. Last time he was here on leave, after RSC, he was soft and gentle. For the first time since reuniting I felt like his little sister again, just like I had imagined it would be like being together again after five years. He saw Violet on the parapet before I made it across and she had changed him. I later learned about the deal he made with her mother, Violet’s safety in exchange for our chance to redeem ourselves in the Rider’s Quadrant, but that didn’t stop me from hating her. He had to keep her safe or we were all dead, but sometimes it felt like him taking care of her had replaced how he used to take care of me when we were kids. I didn’t really need him to, but after being on my own for years feeling like an outsider and always being on guard, I craved the safety of my big brother. Growing up it was always the four of us. We had our own little club that we didn't let anyone into, except Liam when he was around. I was strong and important, but then Violet came in and changed everything. It was stupid and childish that I was jealous of her, especially considering I was now dating Xaden's best friend and he was definitely still pissed about that. He was getting tired of how I constantly challenged her and it had put more than a little distance between us, something I hated more than anything. Not to mention the additional danger she was posing for both of them this year by constantly pushing against Varrish. The most infuriating part was that I still had to help protect her, because no matter how much I hated her, if she dies, he dies. 

"Fine." It was the best I could offer. I could see in Xaden's face it wasn't enough, but he didn't say anything. 

Violet and Jesinia made a plan of what roles we each played and that was when my little resolve I had to keep a lid on my emotions broke. 

"I'm on guard duty with babysitters? I can help and you know it." The demand was directed more at Xaden. The look he leveled at me told me how much he just wished I would go along with the plan as if he was the most agreeable person on the continent.

"I'm not letting you screw everything up by setting fire to the Archives." He was slightly taller than Bodhi, so he was able to glare at me over his shoulder. 

"And you said my brother was the asshole." Aaric chimed in. 

"Perhaps they aren't all that different." I didn't mean it, not really, but I said it before I could stop myself. 

"Either shut fuck up or go back to your room. You're acting like a child and I don't have time for it. Violet is the one who is actually helping us accomplish the mission so she makes the plan." He towered over me, shadows swirling around my legs and his voice seething with anger that matched my own. The assertion that the daughter of our enemy was doing more to help my home than I was sent me over the edge. 

"I fucking hate you." I had never said those words to Xaden other than during stupid sibling spats. We didn't fight like this, but the pressure over following in our dad's footsteps and the tension between us was too much. We didn’t really get the opportunity to talk about everything that happened and now all of his leave time was spent with Violet. 

Bodhi pushed me back, trying to put distance between us. "We have to go now. You two need to cool it." It was silent for a minute until Violet continued with the final assignments as her friend Jesinia handed out Scribe robes to all of us. My rage continued to simmer as I silently dressed in the robes I was given. 

I didn't speak again until after Bodhi, Ridoc, and I had taken our position as guards. 

"So, the whole brooding anger and insanely hot physique is a family trait?" Ridoc inquired, breaking the silence with his usual brand of humor. 

"Did you always plan to be Violet's court jester or did you have higher aspirations?" I shot back. 

"I'm going to take that as a yes." He replied with a chuckle. 

"You two should really talk." Bodhi interrupted before I could reply to Ridoc. He was looking at me imploringly and I know the constant tension between Xaden and I had drained him.

"He's too busy with Violet and he probably doesn't want to talk anyways." I also didn’t want to talk because I was tired of the fighting too. I was scared and stressed and exhausted, but it felt like all of my emotions funneled into anger. 

"No, he does but you're both so damn stubborn that you're just going to keep tearing each other down. I'm tired of it. We are at fucking war and we could all die at any minute. We almost did. Liam did. So the both of you need to stop being idiots and start acting like you're a family." He couldn't yell, since that would defeat the whole point of a secret mission, but I heard him loud and clear. “You should give Violet a chance. She is going to be around no matter what, so you might as well find some way to give her the opportunity to show you she isn’t her mom. Resson wasn’t her fault either.” 

"Okay, I'll talk to him tomorrow before he leaves." I could see it wasn't enough for Bodhi. "You're right, okay. I'll talk to him, I promise." 

"Who doesn't love a happy ending?" Ridoc chimed in, successfully made both Bodhi and I laugh. 

"I could use a happy ending right about now." I sighed. 

"Gross." Bodhi fake gagged.

"After we get out of here, you are more than welcome to join me in my room." Ridoc smirked over at me. 

"Sorry, you're not my type." 

"Because I'm not a brick wall of tattooed muscle or is your type limited to one specific man who isn't here."

"Both." I replied, returning his smile. I did really miss Garrick. The letters weren't the same and I couldn't even tell him half the things I wanted to. Most of his letters to me came with more black lines than words. The separation from him only made the feeling of isolation even worse, especially while I was fighting with Xaden.

"Well you're both gross and we're almost out of time, so get ready." Bodhi's remark got us all to stand at attention. Our silence was tense as we all stood, waiting for them to come out. The bells began to toll and there was still no sign. “I’m sure they’re fine.” His voice lacked any of the reassurance he was trying to convey. 

“Fuck, they’re not going to make it.” Ridoc said, just before they all came barreling out. 

“Everyone to your places, now.” Xaden commanded, cutting off any questions we wanted to ask. Our talk was going to have to wait a bit longer.

After the small detour to be seen in the commons with Ridoc and Bodhi, I quickly backtracked to catch up to Violet and Xaden. The entire way back I was trying to come up with a sufficient apology, but none sounded right. I knew the best real way to show him I was sorry was to make more of an effort with Violet. I don't really trust her and I don't even really like her, but I also hadn't tried to do anything other than find reasons to hate her. 

My heart sank when I saw her alone. "He left?" There was no hiding the disappointment in my voice. 

"Yeah, he has to get the journal back for Brennan to translate." She said cautiously. I could tell she didn’t really want to be alone with me, she even seemed a little scared. I really have a lot of making up to do. 

"Oh, right. We should go then." I turned to walk back to the dorms with her when a voice interrupted us. 

"Violet?" It was Nolan, her mender friend, but I only slightly relaxed, still keeping my hand near my dagger. She may know him well enough to trust him, but I didn't. 

She greeted him warmly and I could only hope he didn't hear the nerves dancing at the edge of her tone. 

"Cadet Riorson," I gave a polite nod. "I know you've been under a lot of stress lately so I brought this for you." Normally, my total distrust of anyone in leadership here would keep me from drinking with Violet, but given what was sitting in her bag I decided it was best not to push it. We had to be as discreet as possible and get out of here quickly. I took the mug from Nolan and drank, feeling surprisingly comforted by the feel of the warm liquid. 

"I hardly ever see you apart from Lieutenant Riorson on Saturdays. Where is he?" Something about his tone caused me to glance at him suspiciously. Then when Jack Barlow and his friends appeared, I stepped closer to Violet. He may have just saved her life, but there was no way he didn't hate her. He was probably plotting her death and while I hadn’t warmed up to her yet, I wasn’t letting that happen. 

"Is everything alright? Nolan asked her, his eyes also following Jack as he crossed into the opposite wing. 

"It's fine." She replied, taking another sip of her drink and I followed. When I moved the cup down I saw her staring into the mug with her brows knitted in confusion. 

"Violet?" I questioned wearily, but I felt it too. Fuck. Nolan was staring at her bag. He knew. I didn’t have any time to think, I just reacted, forcing my breathing to slow and mentally reaching for the man in front of me. 

Revealing my second signet to anyone was likely a death sentence, but if we didn't get out of this we were dead anyways, so I had to try. I concentrated hard, focusing on the vision of him walking away and back to the Healers Quadrant. I stumbled slightly as my balance gave. He was talking to Violet, but his voice was hazy, so I couldn’t really hear him. I pushed harder and his words cut off, his attention turning to me. Fuck, this was it. He knows and now there's no going back. The connection into his mind swam in and out of focus. I reached, trying to pull more power from my dragon, but the thread snapped. I was cut off. I stumbled again, but this time my legs gave out and it was all I could do to throw my arm out to keep my head from hitting the stone. 

The pain in my head was overwhelming and the very first thing I became aware of when I woke up. Maybe it was whatever they drugged us with or from pushing myself too hard trying to stop Nolan. I tried reaching out to my dragon and felt the empty response, which means no fire and no mind manipulation. Several voices come into focus and my body immediately jolts to attention at the sound of the two most identifiable, Violet and Varrish. 

I opened my eyes and immediately noticed I was bound to a chair directly across from Violet who thankfully looked mostly unharmed. The room around us filled me with dread. Blood was caked on the walls and floor. We were unarmed and bound in a torture chamber. This wasn’t like RSC, this was a torture chamber built for real world interrogations. 

Mallory. The memory of RSC and the vicious murder of my squadmate slammed into the forefront of my mind. I forced myself to push it down before the panic became overwhelming. If I dwelled on it now Violet would meet the same fate and I was not letting that happen. 

"Glad to have you join us Cadet Riorson." Varrish sneers at me. 

"Fuck you." I spit at him, but this time he doesn't go for me. It's Violet he backhands at full force. I grit my teeth. I can't do anything, but watch. If he knows it's getting to me, he's going to keep pushing. This is one hell of a way for Violet and I to mend our relationship. 

"One of you will tell me how you got this journal and who it was that helped you. I have an entire week to get it out of you and I will do so by any means necessary." He moved behind her so that I had a completely unobstructed view as he broke her fingers one by one. She screamed in agony and I fought hard against the binds on my wrists and ankles. The chair had no give, meaning it was bolted to the ground. 

"Leave her alone!" I screamed.

"Tell me." He demanded, but I didn't respond. I couldn't. "Very well." He continued to snap her bones. The overwhelming feeling of helplessness brought tears of frustration to my eyes. I couldn't tell him. It would risk my brother, Bodhi, Imogen, Garrick, and everyone else in Aretia. After a while, the temptation to tell set in. I couldn't watch Violet get tortured like this. Xaden already hates me, he's never going to speak to me again after he finds out I let this happen to her. I had to find a way to get his attention.

"You don't want to ask how an intinsic survived right under your nose?" The response was immediate. Violet crumpled to the floor as he let her go. Her broken arm hit the ground first causing her to moan in pain and my stomach to turn as I saw the bone press against her skin. 

"Yes, Nolan did tell me that he suspected you were an intinsic after you tried to stop him a few nights ago." Fuck, had it really been that long. The hunger and thirst that dominated my senses told me that wasn't hard to believe. 

My breathing sped up as he prowled closer to me. "You could let me show you." 

"While I applaud your efforts to have your power returned to you, that is a rather weak attempt." He came to stand behind me. "I'm more interested in how it works. That much you can explain to me. I'm sure Cadet Sorrengail would appreciate the reprieve." 

"Don't." Violet's voice was raw and she couldn't move. This was the only piece of leverage I had. 

"I can manipulate people's minds. Force thoughts into their heads and make them do what I want." If we ever made it out of here alive, I was signing myself over to be a weapon. 

"Interesting. When did this signet manifest?" The glint in his eyes let me know that he was fully invested in all I had to say. It was over, no matter if we made it out of this room or not, he was going to do whatever he had to do to mold me into a weapon for Navarre. Violet had to get out of here alive, then I would be alone and I would die before he broke me. 

"A few weeks after the fire manifested." I was giving as little information as possible. I knew I was fucked either way, but at least this way I can prolong it and keep him away from Violet.

"You've kept it hidden this whole time?" I nodded. "Who else knows?"

"No one." I couldn’t help but glance at Nora, the truth sayer, standing in the corner. 

"Lie." She responded immediately and Varrish struck me. 

"I suppose I should have expected you to lie about this. You isolate yourself because you're so afraid of the ones you love getting hurt. You're petrified of being alone. Shocking for the daughter of the famous Great Betrayer to be so weak." It was my turn to take blow after blow. Violet’s protests went completely ignored. "You've hid this long enough we cannot kill you simply for being an intinsic, but I can break you and you will become quite the weapon for General Melgren." It felt like hours. My entire body was in agonizing pain. The worst was when he pinned my leg to the ground at an awkward angle and stepped on it over and over again until it snapped, even then, he twisted and pushed on it. He didn't even pause as Nolan came in to mend Violet. She was still weak with dehydration and huger, but her body being mended gave her the strength to talk back. Varrish didn't relent. He knew she wasn't going to tell him about what we had done. I knew that as long as his attention was focused on me, she was safe. Xaden would come for her, I just had to buy time. "You girls have a few more days before Lieutenant Riorson violates his leave to come to search for you. Then, perhaps he will tell me what I wish to know." He let the threat hang in the air as he left. Fuck. He was smart and I fucking hated him for it. Xaden would fall for this trap without hesitation. He said it himself, he would follow her anywhere. 

"Violet, I'm sorry." I said after a while. "I'm so sorry. I-" Breathing hurt. Forcing air through my broken ribs was agonizing, but I had to tell her. 

"It's okay." She replied softly. 

"No, it's not. You're the best thing that ever happened to Xaden. I've been jealous and I judged you for what your mom did. Which isn't fair when you've never once judged me for what my father did." I tried to shift in the chair, but caught sight of the bone protruding from my leg. My stomach rolled as I forced myself to look away. "Please forgive me." There was more I wanted to say, but I felt so weak and my brain was so hazy. 

"Of course. If we survive this, maybe we can be friends. Have a sleepover." The laughter quickly fell into coughs for the both of us. 

"No boys allowed." I smiled at her, genuinely. Everything I thought about her was wrong and I feel horrible that it took torture for me to see it, but I could only hope that she would keep Xaden happy. I now know I can trust her with my home and my people. 

We didn't speak again. Varrish and Nolan were a revolving door. They mended and beat Violet over and over again. Nolan never mended me. Occasionally Varrish would turn his attention on me, that was the closest Violet came to breaking. The pain was never ending, but we both held strong. We could survive this. Xaden wouldn’t be alone, he would have Garrick and Bodhi at least. If it came down to it, I would make sure they got Violet out. I owed her and Xaden that much at least. 

My right eye was the only one that would open anymore and even that was a struggle. I forced it open at the sound of a familiar voice, but not the one I wanted to hear.

Violet immediately started to struggle. We both knew what was coming and without shields he would get everything.

He had the decency to look shocked at her appearance, his eyes only momentarily drifting over to me. Varrish continued to impress upon him the importance of getting Violet's memories. We were traitors and the entirety of Navarre was in danger from us. Ironic coming from him, but I kept my mouth shut.

“They’ve requested all leadership to assemble immediately.” Nora interrupted, urgency clear in her voice. Xaden and Garrick, it had to be them. We just had to hold out a little longer. 

“Help me, please.” She begged Dain and I knew it killed her to do it. His face was taut with tension and I knew that it was useless. All I could do was watch as he placed his fingers on her temples, both their eyes closed in concentration. 

After a few moments he pulled back with a gasp. “You’ve been smuggling our weapons to aid another kingdom.” 

Fuck. It was over. He had seen everything.

“Violet, it’s not your fault.” I said, trying to offer some reassurance. 

“They need all of us now.” The woman interrupted again, but Varrish wasn’t listening. He stepped on my leg and I screamed as the pain ricocheted through my joints.  

“Please, Dain!” Violet begged but he kept his face devoid of emotion.

“Let me see the dagger so I can compare it to the one in her memories.” He asked Varrish, who complied after warning him not to kill Violet. 

My world swam in front of me, but I tried hard to stay focused on what was happening in front of me. Dain placed the dagger against Violet’s throat. Muttering to her about trust. He was really going to kill her. 

“No! You fucking asshole!” I screamed and fought against the chair with every ounce of energy I had. The pain was blinding but if I didn’t do something, anything, Violet would bleed out in front of me, just like Liam and just like Mallory. I couldn’t let that happen. The woman was calling more urgently for Varrish and I reached for my power I already knew wasn’t there. They had ensured we continued to drink the mixture that severed the connection. “Violet!” I was hysterical, but my efforts were useless.

I heard the squelch of knife of flesh and I panicked. “No! Violet!” The shock clouded the vision in front of me. Varrish was the one bleeding, not Violet and Dain was cutting her free. She wasn’t dead. She’s fine. Dain was cutting her free. “What?” I asked, voicing my complete confusion as to what just happened. 

“I don’t know if we can fight our way out of here, but if you don’t move we’re dead.” He moved toward me and I flinched out of instinct, but all he did was cut away the binds. I could see the emotions written so plainly on his face, he never knew about any of it. His father had lied to him just as much as he lied to everyone else. 

“I can’t.” I looked down at my leg. “Take her.” I implored him. Varrish wasn’t dead, but he was slumped against the wall. They had time to get out. “Neither of us can walk and you have seconds to get out, so take her.” He nodded, handing me the dagger and moving forward to help Violet. He lifted her up and pulled her arm around his neck to help her walk. 

“No, we aren’t leaving her.” She tried to protest, but she was cut off by the woman, Nora, blocking the doorway. 

“Move and I’ll let you live.” Dain promised, offering the bitch a mercy she definitely didn’t deserve. 

Violet was leaning against his back but her gaze was locked on mine. I gave her a weak smile. I had a dagger and I was no longer bound to a chair. That was something. 

“I make no such promises.” She was dead before I could fully register that he was really here. Xaden was here. Violet was safe, he would make sure of that. 

My eyes felt so heavy. I don’t know that I had slept at all since we were captured, just when I passed out from the pain. I tried everything to keep watch over Violet and I did, I kept her alive. Now, she was safe and I could rest. 

“Hey, hey. Open your eyes, babe. Please.” Gods I never thought I’d hear his voice again. His hands were on my face and I immediately felt the tears well up. 

“Garrick.” I melted against the feel of his hands on my cheeks. Safe. I was safe. Even if I died now, at least I wasn’t scared and alone. 

“Hey beautiful. If you miss me that much, just ask next time. I can be wherever you are in seconds.” I laughed and opened my eyes to see him staring at me with unyielding intensity. There was no trace of laughter in his face as he watched me, his eyes taking stock of the injuries he could see. His jaw clenched and his fingers tightened as if I was going to disappear. 

“That bad?” I knew the answer. As far as I knew, we had been here for five days and I couldn’t even guess how many cuts, bruises, and broken bones I was suffering from. My leg was by far the worst of it though. The heat radiating from the open wound was definitely indicative of an infection. 

“Here.” It was Dain. He stood next to Garrick with bandages and a splint. “It’s not enough, but you can stabilize her leg.” 

“I’ll do it. Garrick, I need to know the path is clear when we move. Aetos don’t make me kill you. Help Violet.” Xaden knelt down in front of me while the other two did as he asked, Garrick more reluctantly than Dain. He gripped the sides of my face and kissed the top of my head hard before leaving. 

“I’m sorry. I-“ I wanted to apologize for everything but my throat felt like sandpaper. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect her.” I couldn’t get out enough words to say everything I wanted, but I hoped he could see my sincerity. “I was awful to both of you. Xaden, but you didn’t deserve it and neither did she. I tried to keep her safe, I promise.”

“Were you going to sacrifice yourself to get her out?” His voice was tight with emotions I hadn’t heard from him in 6 years. I nodded. “Don’t ever do anything so stupid again.” 

“You love her.” 

“I love you too. You’re my sister. I can’t lose you.” He pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead, something so out of character for him that I didn’t notice his subtle movements as he used his shadows to reset the break in my leg. I screamed so loud, I barely heard his whispered apology. He worked fast, wrapping the splint and securing it to my leg. It was messy but as he pulled me to stand I could at least hold myself up a little. I still had to put nearly all of my weight on him, but I could manage. 

“Aetos, you know everything now. If you’re going to follow, fucking follow.” That was more like Xaden, though the fact that he was trusting Dain to carry Violet was still confusing. 

“Xaden, we have a problem!” Garrick called from the top of the steps.

“What kind of problem?” Every step hurt like hell, but it was either push forward or stay in that dungeon forever. I kept pushing, knowing I was getting closer to Garrick. 

“A general sized one.” We rounded the corner to find him with a sword to his throat, General Sorrengail stood above him. 

I surged forward ignoring the new sparks of pain, but Xaden held me back, something that wasn’t exactly a difficult task, but I fought as hard as I could. 

“Who’d you kill?” She asked, her eyes flickering between Xaden and her daughter who was just behind us in Dain’s arms. 

“Everyone.” His answer was clearly what she wanted because she immediately dropped the blade. This time Xaden let me go when I half stepped, half fell into Garrick's arms. I was vaguely aware of the conversation happening around us, but all I could focus on was his arms around me, holding me up. We both clung to each other without a word. His fingers threaded through my hair, pulling me close. I felt so weak and I was still disconnected from both my dragon and my power, but I was safe with him. I breathed in the smell of him, letting it overpower the smells that had dominated my senses for the past several days. The damp smell of the stone and the sharp smell of blood. Our blood. 

“We have to give people the choice.” Violet begged. My attention returned to the conversation. “Tell them the truth and let them decide.” 

“Violet, they're not just going to leave everything because you tell them the truth.” Xaden reasoned.

“No, she’s right.” I said, feeling more confident now that I was safe. 

“Clearly you’ll need to be mended when we get home.” Xaden remarked, glancing at me in mock concern.

“Look, do you want me to trust people or not?” I challenged.

“Well, there’s a middle ground between asking you to trust my girlfriend and revealing our secret rebellion to the entire quadrant.” 

“Right, because you both are famously known for your pragmatism.” Garrick chimed in.

“I thought we agreed you weren’t going to take her side all the time just because you’re together now?” Xaden turned to him with a genuine look of betrayal. 

“Oh you’re right, sorry, didn’t mean to make you jealous, babe.” He leaned forward teasingly as if he were going to kiss him until shadows shoved him back. I felt some of the tension lift, as I felt the laughter rumble in his chest. 

“Fuck off. Look, we’re running out of time. I trust you.” He told Violet and she looked at Dain expectantly. What an odd group we were.

“I guess my last official act as wingleader will be to call a formation.” He resigned.

Less than an hour later we were mounted on our dragons and flying toward Aretia with more dragons and riders than I ever could’ve imagined. Home, we were really going home. 

Yes, little one. You did it. 

The feeling of being reconnected to my dragon and my power again was enough to give me the strength, with the help of my brother's shadows, to drag myself up onto the seat. I smiled as I let sleep pull me under.

Part 4

“Come on Violet. The enemy isn’t going to wait for you to be ready.” She says as her strikes come faster, the furious protectiveness in her voice a stark contrast to the flurry of movement.

“I know.” Violet grits out through clenched teeth as she tries to parry and block the incoming assaults. 

 The training room is empty, except for the few that continue rounds and rounds of signet sparring, the squad collectively pushing past their normal limits.

War was on the doorstep and nothing and no one was going to wait for them to be ready. The enemy was gaining traction faster than they could possibly keep up and being constantly on the defensive was causing more problems than any of them cared to admit. 

“You’re pushing her too hard.” Xaden’s words came out a muffled snarl, but his sister looked at him, her glare cutting through his concern.

‘Threat.’ The voice hissed as a whisper into his mind, Xaden’s eyes tracking every movement.

“If I don’t push her, she’ll die. I’m not going to have that theory tested in the real world when we can keep the control here.” Y/N’s comment came with a strike that Violet wasn’t prepared for. 

In a flurry of confusion, too many things happened at once. One minute Y/N was slicing her blade towards Violet’s arm, and the next Violet was alone with a small cut through her forearm, barely harmed. 

Every noise around them stopped. Weapons clattered to the ground, movements halted, time itself seemed to stop. 

The only sound that dared to break the silence was Xaden’s sharp erratic breaths. 

‘Must eliminate the threat. Can’t let her keep breathing.’ The voice now snarled.

In moments, too quick to be truly human, Xaden’s shadows had lunged for his sister and thrown her into the wall, a sickening crack sounding as her skull and ribs slammed against the stone. His own body followed not far behind, hand wrapped around her throat, shadows pinning her extremities down. The only sound a muffled cry, so small, it barely broke through the silence.

But no one that witnessed the scene would forget her eyes. Betrayal, hurt, disappointment, and fear registering in quick succession. Xaden’s hand tightening and making the familiar orbs flutter closed, her body barely hanging to life.

‘That’s right. You will burn for daring to touch, to harm.’ Vengeance bled through the voice still slithering through Xaden’s thoughts.

Suddenly, as though someone pressed play on life again, boots came running. Violet began to pull on Xaden’s arm, pleas leaving her mouth in desperation, but there was no give in his hold.

Garrick wasn’t as generous. Without touching Violet, a violent gust of wind threw Xaden across the room, his own head now hitting the stone. Bodhi’s hands wrenched and removed the shadows from his cousin, eyes alight with a fire of protectiveness. Garrick continued on quick strides, gently catching Y/N’s limp form as it tried to take shallow breaths, as if remembering how to breathe for the first time. 

The scene now a gruesome reality of what Xaden was becoming. His being no longer recognizing those that he used to choose to love.

“Everyone out.” Bodhi commanded, not letting his eyes leave Xaden, the fire still dancing in them. “NOW!”

The shuffle of feet could be heard until the only people left were the four and the now unconscious form of the person they all loved in some way.

In a voice deceptively calm, Bodhi radiated storm, his figure cutting a picture Xaden would’ve been proud of, if it wasn’t directed at him. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing Xaden? Who did you think that was?”

The accusations stung Xaden as he finally began to register the room around him again. Looking back at the three pairs of eyes pinning him, his breathing began to quicken as the last few minutes began to register fully. 

“I – I don’t know. An enemy.” The words come in a whisper, disbelief painting his entire face. The normally stoic and proud man reduced to a puddle of uncertainty, his large frame dropping unceremoniously to the ground. Xaden didn’t miss the scoff that left Bodhi.

“We all knew this changed you.” Bodhi says, accusation hitting harder than normal. “There was no way to avoid it, but I never thought it would be at the cost of someone who has done nothing but love you, scars and all.”

Xaden felt his heart crack at his cousin’s words, his eyes taking in the limp form of the woman that he thought he would only ever protect. The bright light that had guided him in the darkened world of their childhood. The reason he always had chosen to be a better man.

“I never thought I would see the day that even your own sister became expendable.” Garrick shakes his head, disappointment dripping from every word. “All because of a woman.” 

Eyes hard, Garrick turns away from Xaden carrying her limp form, but not before throwing parting words over his shoulder. “Now here you are, turning on the first woman you promised you would keep safe and protected with your life – even before the hell of the apostasy.”

Then so quietly, questioning if the words were even spoken, “I suppose you really aren’t the same man anymore.”

The words hung thick in the air as Xaden watched the retreating forms. There was no way he would be able to get her wide eyes of betrayal from his mind. The familiar eyes that he shared with his sister torn apart from emotions that he had wreaked, the havoc of his choices burned into the corners of his soul. 

“What was that, Xaden?” Violet’s voice, smaller than normal, cut through the tide of emotion rising. 

“I – “ He started, but his mouth closed as he swallowed thickly. Bile rising in his throat at the thought of the events that just transpired. He tried to find reason, to find logic, but there was none. His mind had turned off, every ounce of recognition glazing over at the thought of Violet being hurt. The voice of darkness overcoming him, clouding his actions.

His mind a chasm of ice, frozen to the reality of the situation, everything closed off except the woman he loved being hurt. But Xaden shook his head, Violet wasn’t the only woman he loved, and he couldn’t fathom how he could forget. Disregard the seed of love that had grown into a garden reserved for the one person he never thought he could leave behind. The one woman who always accepted every secret and still stayed and loved him fiercely. 

The knowledge that he could shut her out so easily, turn on her so swiftly, extinguish her light without thought, began eating at his remaining humanity. 

“It isn’t an if anymore. Now its only a question of when.” Xaden’s words leave him, not directed at Violet or himself, just the truth they had all been unwilling to voice.

“Don’t say that.” Violet wouldn’t accept that, she would fix this.

___________

Later that night, Xaden slipped into the corridors, shadows clinging to him like a second skin. He wanted – no needed – to see her. He needed desperately to cradle his sister in his arms, to gain back her trust, her love. 

“No.” The word came out final, as if he was a child being told his limitations.

Turning, there was no way to escape Garrick’s burning gaze. Defiance flared to life in Xaden, his nostrils flaring at the possibility Garrick thought he could control his actions.

Without stopping, Xaden continued forward towards the door of the infirmary room. 

“I said, No.” Garrick’s arms crossed over his chest, his figure posed as a threat, something Xaden had never seen before, not directed at him.

“You don’t get to tell me I can’t see her. She’s my sister.” Xaden relays with a glare that could cut glass.

“Was.” The word causes Xaden’s eyes to flash dangerously. “She’s no longer your sister when you become more of a threat to her life than a blessing.”

Xaden steps up to his best friend, malice shining in his eyes, but Garrick only steels himself. 

“She’s resting after you dared to lay your hands on her.” Garrick’s words come out calm, but cold. “Do you realize if Bodhi and I wouldn’t have been there, we’d all be burying her right now.” 

“By. Your. Own. Hand.” Each word hit sharper than any physical blow.

The air whooshed out of Xaden’s lungs as if Garrick had punched him in the gut. The words cut through the haze, the truth acting like a blade to his already broken heart. A chilling truth curling in the air around them. 

There was no denial, there couldn’t be. Nothing Garrick said was false. The pull, the ache to reach for more power a constant drag on his psyche. The incessant tug to be united with the one that claimed he could teach him, mold him, constantly drowning out the present. The dark voice creeping in and directing his actions.

Xaden knew he was drowning, but he couldn’t let himself leave everyone he loved behind. Refused to become the thing they fought against, not the thing they fought for. 

“It’s best if you leave. She needs to rest, and I don’t think she’ll feel safe with you right now.” 

Safe. 

Xaden huffed at the word. They had never been safe, the apostasy made sure of that, but she had found safety with him. 

She had trusted him with everything. She found shelter from bitter words and hatred, protection from physical hurts, and solace on the days when the pain lingered. 

But now – now, he was the hurt. 

Xaden was the pain; he was the bitter words. He was the physical agony, as he remembered the handprint blooming on her tawny skin. He was no longer the solace; he was only misery and heartache.

Without another word, he turned and left the infirmary. Left the woman who had always cheered him on and walked towards the one that questioned, the one that he thought he couldn’t live without. Inside though, the vines began to twist and crowd as his mind continued to turn black. 

The darkness creeping slowly over the glow of his soul.

There was no way to fight this. No way to recover.

But he’d be damned if he let his sister slip away entirely. And damned he would become.

___________

Days passed and Xaden let himself get swept away in duty. He continued in his post, teaching cadets to best utilize their signets against the enemy, who they didn’t even know was standing in front of them.

Every class he searched for her. Every time her squad was meant to stand in front of him, he was disappointed. He knew that she wasn’t in the infirmary any longer, he saw her in the dining hall, saw shadows of her leaving the barracks and in formation. 

But she wasn’t the only one. Xaden and Violet began to become an island in the ocean of Basgiath. Every one of his trusted friends keeping their distance. Xaden couldn’t remember the last time he spoke with Garrick or Bodhi about something other than signet sparring class or matters relating to Tyrrendor. Imogen passing him in the halls with a look that could freeze over the tundra. 

The concern that normally painted their gazes since the Battle for Basgiath completely gone. Violet talked to them, but the conversation was minimal, a formal requirement, not friendship, not backup.

It was clear that they no longer trusted Xaden and were protecting the woman that he had almost killed. His own flesh and blood that he had thought no more than a menace, a threat.

When he thought of that day, the memories began to hold less and less weight. The truth of what he had done becoming just a bit more meaningless each day. The light once held in his soul snuffing to only a candle’s worth of warmth.

Only one thing was steady territory anymore.

Battle was safe. Fighting was normal. The power of beating an opponent becoming a high he wanted to chase with a vengeance he had never felt before.  

Pockets of the day brought clarity though, the human part of his soul singing in the darkness. In those moments, all he wanted to do was disappear, hide from the shame of his actions. Those moments though began to get smaller and smaller, the momentary reprieve found when he could wind himself in Violet’s arms. Or fly with Sgaeyl, but that only happened when necessary. There was some reprieve when he saw Y/N, but those were small since she was so distant now. His entire being now a planet that had fallen off its axis, out of the orbit he needed so badly.

He could feel Sgaeyl’s disappointment, the blade of anger at daring to harm the girl that she loved as well. It was no secret that Sgaeyl was just as attached to Y/N as her own dragon, nudging the girl whenever she was in the same vicinity. 

The thoughts would hit the hardest in the Senarium meetings. Xaden’s attention constantly pulled away from the monotony of overstuffed nobles thinking their importance made them strategists, made them invincible. 

If only Xaden could tell them an enemy was sitting at their table, right under their haughty noses, ruling over the largest province of Navarre. 

But no, that wouldn’t serve anyone’s purpose. Let them stew in political matters that would not make a difference once the real threat came. 

It wasn’t until the doors swung open that he was brought from his thoughts. The familiar figure cutting a line towards him and radiating a power he had never seen before. 

A crack of awareness glittered in his soul, and he latched on to it, grasping it tightly in his hands, clawing for the relief of seeing her. 

Her face was solemn, a mask of veritable indifference, though the power that radiated from her was unmistakable. He never thought he’d see her blossom into this intimidating woman, but between her stature and fierce expressions, everyone knew she wasn’t to be messed with. 

Xaden had worried he had taken her fire, that his actions had brought her to her knees, but this woman shined. She was the sun burning through the darkness of his soul, the one who would conquer every shadow he would leave behind. 

Bodhi walked in step with her and they both sat in seats directly behind him. His shadows skittered, desperately wanting to wrap themselves around her and let him be the refuge in the storm of life that he used to be. As they slowly slithered closer to her, they froze when she spoke.

“Don’t.” The word was clear, their meaning perfectly delivered. She didn’t want him, didn’t want his protection, didn’t want his love.

There was no shifting, neither her nor Bodhi moved from their place. They only listened. They watched as the pompous upper echelon spoke of topics they were clearly inept at handling. The cadre tried to hand down their knowledge, to prove the best way to defend their homes, but the nobles dismissed them. Focus on the true war drowned out in a battle for power within their small minds. 

As the meeting came to a close, they all rose as the King took his leave. The Riorson family didn’t bow. They wouldn’t, not after the chaos Navarre had inflicted after the Apostasy. The death they exacted due to their inability to be truthful to their own citizens. 

Filtering out, Bodhi and Y/N began to turn around and follow the remaining members of the aristocracy, their rider leathers a stark contrast to the rich colors of the nobility. 

“Y/N, wait.” Xaden’s voice came out hoarse, even to his own ears. Her eyes were hard, and Xaden didn’t miss the way that Bodhi stepped in front of her, shielding her from her own brother.

“I’m not going to hurt her.” Xaden snapped at Bodhi, though her terrified eyes flashed in Xaden’s mind.

“Your word is no longer a guarantee, cousin.” Bodhi spit the last word as if he was now offended by the idea of being related to Xaden.

A slender hand came up to Bodhi’s shoulder and he turned to look back at her. 

“I’ll be fine Bodhi.” Y/N said in a voice more reassuring that Xaden could tell she felt. “If I’m not, I know how to handle him now.”

The second comment said with conviction, Xaden couldn’t help the way his breath caught, her hand coming to rest on the hilt of a dagger at her side. This was the clearest his emotions had been in weeks. The cloud of darkness seemed to part with her agreeance to speak with him.

Bodhi searches between the siblings before giving her a curt nod and striding for the door.

“Don’t push her.” Bodhi warns. “And don’t you dare lay a hand or single shadow on her.”

The threat looms even after Bodhi leaves the space. A coldness settling over them, where there only used to grow warmth and love.

As she sits there looking back at him, Xaden’s brows furrow. The ease that was always between them seemed to evaporate like smoke on the wind. Her posture rigid, spine locked, and face a mask of cold indifference he’s never known with his sister.

The woman before him doesn’t seem like a sister, she’s a force that will never bend to the will of anyone, except herself. Xaden always thought he would be a good influence; thought he would help guide her to handle the cards they’d been dealt. But instead, she’s guarded, hardened against the man that she used to consider safe – used to consider as home.

“Bodhi and I have talked and we will handle things with the Senarium in your absence.” Her voice was tight, unwavering. Every word she said, exclaimed with an air of calm authority. “Tyrrendor will not be left without someone to steer her through the looming waters of this war.”

“That isn’t what I wanted to talk to you about.” Xaden’s voice cuts through the silence, his tone strong but soft. 

“Then what exactly do you need, Xaden?” There is no nonsense in her tone, none of the usual playful banter of a brother and sister.

“I need you to make sure to keep your promise, that if I – “ Xaden is cut off before he can even finish his thought.

“Stop.” She demands and Xaden instantly closes his mouth. A pause charges in the silence as she chooses her words. 

“If any part of the next words out of your mouth are ‘if you go too far’ then you can stop talking now.” Her voice is clipped and tone sharp. There’s no warmth or understanding there. 

“I stopped being indebted to you the minute you chose ‘Violence’.” The last word leaves her lips in a sneer, tone dripping with disdain. “The minute my life seemed nothing but a burden in your hands.”

“If you’re looking for someone to drive in the knife into your heart once you’ve gone too far, you better go ask Violet – or anyone else either of you trusted with your turning.” She replies, eyes hard and cold with an apathy Xaden’s recoils from. “Because the man, who I used to call brother, has already driven a knife through mine.”

Her words are chosen thoughtfully and the vines that have been threatening since she was hurt begin to darken again and constrict further. 

“The moment you decided my life wasn’t worth the same as hers and tried to end mine, any love between us has ceased to exist. So, you can go ahead and write me off, consider me a ghost that does nothing but haunt these halls.” Sharper words have never been said, the finality cutting through his entire being. The wound of Violet questioning his every motive and feeling, nothing compared to his sister’s words, to his own aggression towards her. 

Without waiting for a response or even a reaction, she strides out the door. There’s no defeat in her steps, no weight of a downtrodden girl, just the grit of reality. The actuality that he had already gone too far. That in the quest and name of love, he had forgotten every single person that had loved him before, the ones he loved in return.

Emotion clogged his throat as he stared at the doorway eyes looking through the space she had just vacated, a piece of what was left of his soul crumbling away at the loss of her. 

Though there was a sudden flash in his brain and everything scrambled. 

Sentiments that seconds ago clung to his skin and wrapped around his lungs wiped away as if never there at all. Xaden blinked and stood from the chair, slight confusion overtaking him, before he strode out into the corridor.

For the first time in his life there was only one thing of importance. The vines choking back every other person, place, or memory – besides her, his Violence and Sgaeyl. Chosen family and his remaining blood scattered to the wind. The blade of responsibility one he tossed to the ground. No one or nothing else would ever win. 

Every happy memory blasted to pieces. Every laugh, every smile, every soft emotion smothered by the rotting darkness that had crept in day after day. He could feel the glimmer in his eyes die, the spark of life extinguished like a candle. The subtle hint of red clouding over his vision.  

Without hesitation, Xaden walked out of the hall, out of Basgiath, and out of the lives of every single person that he ever loved. 

He was one with the darkness he wielded, and he let the shadows consume him and all that was left of his soul. 

Divider: @uzmacchiato

Dain first saw you during grounded flight maneuvers, seated cross-legged beside your dragon, your fingers gently weaving through wildflowers. It was reckless, he thought, allowing himself to truly see you—the girl whose laughter came too quickly and whose spirit shined too brightly for the world around her. 

You were Xaden Riorson’s little sister, and he had been warned to keep his distance. Yet, as you picked at the petals and smiled at the sky, he couldn’t help but notice the way the sunlight caught your hair, casting a halo of warmth around you. No trace of sadness marred your laughter, even when the shadows of your brother loomed larger.

He shouldn’t have noticed the way you slipped out of the dorms at night, seeking solace among the stars. He should have turned away, left you to your solitude. But instead, he found himself walking towards you, drawn like a moth to a flame.

“You shouldn’t be out here,” he said, hovering at the edge of safety, words laced with concern.

“Are you going to throw me off as punishment?” you shot back, that same soft smile tugging at your lips as you dangle your legs over the edge, hair dancing in the night breeze.

“Most people would avoid this place after Conscription Day,” he replied, his eyes searching yours for a flicker of hesitation.

“I’m not most people,” you shrugged, turning your gaze back to the stars, and with that, something shifted between you—an unspoken understanding that neither of you could quite grasp yet. Dain should have walked away, but the pull was too strong.

Which is how he found himself dropping to sit beside you, the cool stone brushing against his legs as he settled into your space. “Why do you always come out here at night?” he genuinely asked, his voice a low murmur that mingled with the whispering winds.

You turned to him, the moonlight illuminating your features, casting a soft glow over your delicate smile. “You don’t have to be nice to me, you know. Most people aren’t.” Your words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken truths, each syllable colored by past encounters.

“I’m not like most people.” He smiled, and that warmth seemed to radiate from him, filling the space between you with an unexpected comfort as he turned to face you fully, his eyes searching yours for a connection.

“I know.” You met his gaze with an unwavering certainty, a truth that ran deeper than mere acknowledgment. On some instinctive level, you understood he was different, a flicker of something genuine amidst a world that often felt tainted.

From that moment on, you and Dain often found yourselves together in the hushed corners of the world, sharing moments that felt suspended in time. Whether it was the rhythmic clash of weapons during sparring sessions or the quiet intimacy of studying side by side, you learned to cherish the tranquility that came with his presence. At first, it was from across the room, your eyes lingering on each other, stolen glances that spoke volumes. Then, it blossomed into shared tables in the library or commens, where the air hummed with laughter and unspoken promises.

Dain, unable to resist the pull, found himself reaching out to you, suggesting one-on-one sparring or inviting you to study with him, despite the fact that your classes never aligned. It was exhilarating yet terrifying, each interaction a delicate dance on the precipice of something more profound.

He tried to pull back, chastising himself silently. You were off-limits, a rule he desperately wanted to uphold but found increasingly difficult.

But when you didn’t show for your usual early morning sparring, he brushed it off, convincing himself that maybe you had simply slept in or forgotten. Yet as the days wore on and you remained absent—missing breakfast, and failing to appear for mandatory squad training—he felt an unsettling knot twist in his gut. 

Each passing moment without you deepened his concern, an insistent ache in his chest that he couldn’t ignore. Five long days of silence stretched before him, and when he finally decided to check your room, dread pooled in his stomach. Before he could grasp the door handle, an urgent missive from Vice Commandant Varrish shattering the fragile thread of hope he clung to.

The cold of the torture chamber wasn't the kind you could feel with your skin; it was the kind that sank deep into your bones, wrapping around your heart with a chilling embrace. Each breath you drew felt labored, like dragging your body through heavy fog, the air thick with despair and the metallic tang of blood. 

You were barely conscious, your body a ragged shell that sagged against the unforgiving stone wall, held captive by the manacles that bit cruelly into your wrists, shredded from futile struggles. Every shift sent sharp jolts of pain through your limbs, but the thought of surrendering to the encroaching darkness was unbearable.

Across the dimly lit room, Violet was chained to a lone chair, her once-vibrant spirit now dulled by the brutality of their captors. Blood trailed down her sides like a cruel reminder of your powerlessness, pooling at her feet. 

You felt a surge of anger and helplessness, your heart aching for her. The shadows wrapped around you, whispering sweet promises of sleep, but you fought back against the comforting embrace, clutching tightly to the flickering memories of Dain—his laughter like music echoing through the empty hallways of your mind, the way his eyes sparkled in the moonlight, and the gentle warmth of his presence that seemed so far away now.

As you struggled to keep the darkness at bay, you caught the sound of voices murmuring outside the door. You could have sworn it was Dain’s voice, solid and familiar, and the hope ignited a flicker of energy within you. 

“You asked to see me, sir? Down here? There have to be a dozen guards in the stairwell,” his tone was steady, yet laced with concern.

“I did,” Varrish’s voice followed, clipped and authoritative. With every ounce of willpower, you lifted your weary head, eyes straining to focus on the door, desperately clinging to the hope he brought. “I need your help. Navarre needs your help.”

“What can I do?” Dain replied, the resolve in his voice seeming to push against the heavy weight of despair surrounding you.

As Varrish spoke of security breaches and stolen intelligence, describing the lite night visit to the Archives you and Violet had done. You felt Violet start to fight her own binds, a spark of rebellion igniting in her gaze. But amidst the chaos of your thoughts, the weight of impending darkness loomed, wrapping around you tighter with each word exchanged just beyond the door.

“Dain.” You mumble, pulling against your restraints, the cold metal biting into your skin. 

"For the safety of every civilian within our wards, I need their memories, wingleader. You must extract the truth, or our very way of life will be compromised. I’m going to warn you,” Varrish continues, his voice dripping with an unsettling calmness, a gentleness that might have seemed almost laughable if the situation weren’t so dire. “The prisoners’ identities may come as a shock.” 

You pull harder against your restraints, your heart pounding against the stony wall of despair that surrounds you. The door swings open, its hinges creaking ominously as it reveals the two figures stepping into the room, blocking your view.

“Violet?” Dain’s voice slices through the darkness, filled with the weight of concern.

“Please help me,” she whispers, her plea laced with desperation, echoing in the hollow space between you.

“You’ve been torturing her for five days?” Dain’s voice sharpens, a blade drawn in the face of injustice. It’s the tone you’ve heard him use on cadets breaking rules, a mix of authority and protective anger. 

You try to call out for him, but no sound escapes your throat. A suffocating silence envelops you, the presence of that blasted signet looming like a shadow. 

“Since she stole Lyra’s journal from the king’s private library? Absolutely.” Varrish’s words hang heavy, like the weight of a storm about to break. “She might have been a childhood friend, Aetos, but we both know where her loyalties now lie—with Riorson and the war he’s planning against us. She wants to bring down the wards.”

“That’s not true!” Violet fights, her voice shaky yet fierce, but it sounds weak, as if the very air around her is draining her strength. “Dain, you know–”

“I don’t know shit about you anymore,” Dain counters, anger lacing his voice. 

You had been privy to many nights where Dain complained about Violet and her choices, but never had he outwardly shown this level of anger, a betrayal that cuts deeper than steel.

“There’s a war out there. Poromish civilians are dying, and we’re not doing anything to help. We’re just watching it happen, Dain.” Violet's voice trembles, thick with urgency, as she pulls against her binds once more, straining against the cold metal that binds her wrists. Her eyes, usually bright and determined, now shimmer with a desperate resolve that seems to flicker like a dying flame. You can see the beads of sweat forming along her brow, the tension in her body palpable as she leans forward, attempting to break through the heavy silence that weighs between her and Dain.

You know her struggle is in vain; you’ve been trying to drop hints to him for months. 

“You think we should involve ourselves in their civil war?” Dain's voice is taut, barely concealing the disbelief that ripples through him like a wave crashing against the rocks.

“I think you’ve been lied to for so long that you won’t recognize the truth even when it hits you in the face.” The fire in Violet’s words begins to sputter, her body relaxing into an uncomfortable stillness as her will falters, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on her shoulders.

“I could say the same for you.” Dain’s voice is laced with bitterness as he spits the words like venom, turning his back on her, a gesture that feels like a betrayal, a fracture in their once-unbreakable bond. 

“I know y/n’s been trying to tell you, but you’re so lost you wouldn't have believed her.” The weight of Dain’s ignorance feels like a stone in your throat, and you can only watch, helpless, as he brushes off Violet’s desperate claims.

“Are you sure she was trying to take down the wards?” Dain’s incredulity hangs in the air, a thick fog of disbelief clouding his judgment.

“I’ve had the journal sent back to the Archives for safekeeping, but yes. The book she stole gave detailed instructions on how the wards were built and could be used as a map to unravel them.” Varrish’s grip on Dain’s shoulder tightens, a comforting yet unsettling gesture. “I know this is hard to hear, but people aren’t always who we want them to be.

“Try not to be angry with her,” Varrish continues, a wicked sympathy seeping into his tone. “We can’t always help who we fall in love with, can we? Riorson pulled her into something she couldn’t possibly understand. You know that. You saw it happen last year.” Varrish exhales heavily, the weight of his words settling like an anchor in the room. "Unfortunately, she's not the only one."

“What do you mean?” Dain’s brow furrows, a flicker of confusion crossing his features.

“You’ve grown quite close to the younger Riorson, correct?” 

“She’s in my wing.” Dain’s admission stings. 

“I didn’t want to have to show you this, but–” The door swings closed with a resounding thud, sealing off the outside world as your eyes lock with Dain’s. 

“Y/n–” Dain’s voice is laced with urgency, a plea in his tone as he tries to move to your side, but Varrish’s presence halts him, a forbidding wall of authority between you. 

“She was aiding Violet in stealing the book. Who knows what else her brother had dragged her into.”

“Dain.” His name finally slips out, a whispered plea that hangs in the air, heavy with unsaid words. “I’m sorry.” 

At the sound of your voice, Dain pulls himself free, dropping to his knees before you. His expression is a mix of relief and sorrow, a battle playing out across his features. “Hey, it’s okay.” He whispers, his voice low and soothing, as if trying to mend the fraying threads of your connection. His hands come up to cradle your face, warm and familiar, and you lean into his touch, finding solace in the moment. “I’m going to get you out.”

Panic tightens in your chest, squeezing out the breath that you have left. “You have to listen to Violet.” The urgency in your tone is palpable, a desperate note echoing in the dim light of the chamber.

Varrish steps closer, an imposing figure amidst the chaos, holding out Violet’s alloy-imbedded dagger as if it were a cursed relic. The dagger glints menacingly, the metal infused with dark power that seems to hum with a life of its own. “They were both carrying one of these.” Dain's gaze flickers to the blade, the revelation settling like a stone in the pit of his stomach. “That metal you see is what powers the wards. We think they’ve been smuggling them out to wherever they’re planning to stage this war from, weakening our wards little by little.”

“Is that true?” Dain's voice hardens as his eyes dart to Violet, a storm brewing in their depths.

“I can explain.” Her voice trembles, but Dain's anger is back, flaring like a wildfire consuming everything in its path.

“I don’t need you to explain,” he snarls, the words sharp as knives. “I’ve been asking you to talk to me for months, and now I see why you won’t. Why you’re adamant I never touch you. You’re scared I’ll see what you’ve been hiding.”

“Remember your ethics, Cadet,” Varrish instructs, his tone clipped, slicing through the tension. “Especially given your attachment to Cadet Sorrengail. Search like you’ve been practicing but focus on the word ward.”

Before the situation can spiral further, a voice cuts through the thick tension in the air. “Lieutenant Nora,” a figure calls from the antechamber. “All leadership is being ordered to assemble. There have been… incidents at the border.” 

“By whose order?” Nora demands, her voice steely.

“General Sorrengail’s.”

“We’ll be there shortly,” Nora replies, dismissively waving him off, though unease flits across her features.

“We might already be too late,” Varrish mutters, shaking his head, an ominous weight hanging in his words. “Riorson deserted days ago, according to the reports we received this morning. We’re gathering the marked ones now.” 

YOur breath hitches in your throat. Xaden deserted his post; relief washes over you, but it’s short-lived. What about the others? Imogen, Bodhi? Sloane? They’re still out there, and you’re trapped. 

“What have you done, Violet?” Varrish’s voice hardens, urgency seeping into every syllable. “Orchestrated another attack on an outpost? Find out what you can, Aetos. The safety of our kingdom depends on it. Time is of the essence.” 

Dain’s eyes flare, and he lifts his hands, poised on the brink of action, torn between his loyalty and the truth unraveling before him.

“You killed Liam,” Violet blurts, her words slicing through the air like a dagger, heavy with accusation. The room falls into a taut silence, tension crackling like static electricity, and Dain's posture shifts as he pauses, the weight of her revelation hanging between everyone. 

“What?” You gasp, your heart racing as you turn to Dain, searching his eyes for some semblance of truth. 

“Y/n—” he begins, but Violet’s laughter, sharp and tired, interrupts him, echoing off the cold stone walls. 

“You didn’t tell her?” Her incredulity stings like ice water, and Dain’s face tightens as he turns back to her, a mix of anger and sorrow flickering in his gaze. 

“You keep saying I killed him, but I only searched your memory to prove my father wrong, Violet,” Dain asserts, his voice steady but strained. “And all you did was prove him right. If the marked ones died betraying our kingdom, then they deserved what they got.” 

“I hate you,” you mutter to Dain, each word laced with betrayal. His sad eyes meet yours, pleading silently for a chance at understanding, yet the chasm between you feels insurmountable. 

“She’s stalling,” Varrish snaps, his voice sharp as a whip, cutting through the charged atmosphere. “Do it now. And if you see something you don’t understand, I’ll explain it once we know where their army is hiding. Just trust me that we are acting in the best interest of every citizen of Navarre. Our only goal is keeping them safe.” Dain nods reluctantly, reaching for Violet, his hand hesitating just a breath away. 

“She’s bruised everywhere,” he murmurs, concern flooding his voice, a stark contrast to Varrish’s icy retort. 

“She’s nothing more than a traitor,” Varrish dismisses coldly. 

“Right,” Dain replies, frustration etching his features, yet you can’t bear to witness the unfolding confrontation. Instead, you focus on the shadows of your shared past, memories that once brought solace now dissected under the weight of suspicion. 

“Did you get what you wanted?” Violet manages, her voice cracking, and you can sense the tremors of her despair beneath the surface, her screams finally subsiding into a haunting quiet. 

“You’re smuggling weapons, stealing our weapons to aid another kingdom?” Dain’s voice is resolute as he pivots from Violet to you, the enormity of betrayal casting a long shadow over your fragile connection. 

Violet turns her head, eyes glistening with remorse. “I’m so sorry I failed you.” 

“As you should be,” Varrish sneers, but the words are lost on Violet, who speaks to a deeper wound that none of us can touch. 

“They want us now!” a voice shouts from the antechamber, breaking the tension with the urgency of impending doom. 

“Varrish,” Nora prompts, her voice steady amidst the chaos. “It’s a summons for all leadership.”

“What did you find?” Varrish's voice cuts through the air, sharp and urgent, as he pivots towards Dain, his composure fraying like the edges of a worn tapestry. The flickering torchlight casts deep shadows across his face, emphasizing the tension coiling in his every feature. “Where are they staging from?” 

“Give me that knife,” Dain demands, his hand extended, fingers splayed as if he could grasp the truth itself. His tone is fierce, driven by an unwavering resolve that ignites the room with a palpable intensity. “I want to compare it to the one I saw in the memory. The ones they’re stealing from us.” 

Varrish’s expression hardens, a storm of conflicting emotions roiling beneath his stoic facade. “Just don’t kill them. We need to find and question Riorson first, use them as leverage.” He relinquishes the dagger to Dain, the weapon gleaming ominously in the dim light.

Dain inspects the blade, his brow furrowing as he nods solemnly. “This is the one. They’re taking them out by the dozen, arming the enemy. I saw everything. There’s at least one drift involved.” Each word lingers in the air, heavy with the weight of impending doom. 

You sag against the unforgiving chains that bind you, despair flooding through your veins like ice water. He knows everything, yet he still chose their side. Doubt gnaws at your insides; perhaps you never truly knew him. 

“You should have trusted me, Violet. None of this would have happened if you’d just trusted me.” Dain's voice softens, the plea echoing with vulnerability that sends a pang of regret through you. 

“But I trusted you.” The words spill from your lips, shaky and fragile, each syllable tinged with betrayal. “I trusted you.” Dain’s gaze locks onto yours, a flicker of pain softening the intensity in his eyes as he absorbs the weight of your hurt. 

Then Varrish, like a marionette with cut strings, staggers against the stone wall, his frustration palpable. Dain cuts through Violet’s binds with swift determination before turning to you. “I don’t know if we can fight our way out of here. Can you move?” 

You remain still, your gaze tethered to the ground, a well of despair suffocating your spirit. 

“Y/n, sweetheart, eyes on me.” His voice is urgent yet soothing, and instinctively, you lift your gaze to meet his. “You have to move or we’re dead.” 

With a surge of adrenaline, he pulls you up, and though your legs tremble, you find strength in the warmth of his touch. “Help Vi. I’ll be okay.” 

He passes you a dagger, the fleeting contact igniting a spark of hope, before turning his attention back to Varrish, sword raised defiantly. “Let us pass, and you’ll live.” His arm wraps protectively around Violet as she leans against him, a whimper escaping her lips as you stumble alongside them. 

“I make no such promises.” You glance up, your eyes meet an exact replica of your own, a reflection of defiance and desperation mingled together, as Violet steps in front of Dain.

“He saved us. Don’t kill him,” Violet whispers urgently, her voice trembling like the flicker of a candle in a tempest as Xaden’s gaze snaps to her, confusion and fierce protectiveness battling for dominance in his stormy eyes.

“Gods, Violet,” he breathes, the sound heavy with disbelief. 

“You came,” she stumbles, and in an instant, Xaden’s arms envelop her, the warmth of his embrace grounding her in a moment when the world threatens to unravel. His presence—a steadfast anchor—shields her from the chaos swirling around them, the adrenaline coursing through her veins settling into something resembling calm.

“Dain…” Your voice is but a whisper, the sheer weight of the moment nearly crushing you. 

“I got you, sweetheart,” Dain murmurs, his breath ghosting across your ear as his arms encircle you, a lifeline amidst the encroaching darkness. His touch is a balm against the throbbing despair that has marked your every moment, pulling you back from the precipice of hopelessness.

“Godsdamn, you took off running and then couldn’t save a single one for me?” Garrick’s voice cuts through the tension, his frustration palpable, laced with a hint of brotherly jest as he emerges from the shadows, the flickering torchlight casting a rugged silhouette against his form. “Took me forever to clear the barricade of bodies in the staircase.”

“Hi, Garrick,” you and Violet say in perfect synchrony, a moment of levity in the maelstrom, the connection between you three shimmering like a fragile thread.

“Y/n?” Xaden’s voice drops to an urgent whisper, his focus shifting to you with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. His eyes narrow at the sight of Dain’s hands resting possessively on your hips, fury igniting within him. “Get your hands off my sister.”

“Don’t, please,” you murmur, desperation clawing at your throat as you reach instinctively for Dain’s warmth, the solidity of his presence a comfort amid the rising storm. “Don’t do it.” 

But in that moment of pleading, your strength wanes, your body going limp against Dain, who moves swiftly, his arms tightening around you as if to shield you from the chaos. 

“Y/n?” Panic laces his voice, a tightness in his tone betraying the fear that flickers behind his resolute facade.

“You’re turning traitor?” Varrish’s laughter echoes, harsh and mocking, a cruel melody that slices through the air from his position against the stone wall. “Your father will be so disappointed.”

“If he already knows what Violet showed me, then I’m the one disappointed in him,” Dain retorts, the conviction in his voice unwavering even as he shifts your unconscious form into his arms, cradling you like the fragile thing you are. The world around you blurs, fading into an indistinct haze as the weight of the moment envelops you.

“Get her out; I’ll handle Varrish,” Xaden orders Dain, his voice a fierce command that reverberates with authority, slicing through the chaos as he turns to Garrick. “Go with them.”

Part 2