•𝟔.𝟕𝐊•

( warning—this chapter contains explicit sexual content
if you wish to skip the smut scene, it will be marked with *** at the beginning & end! )

꧁•𖢻•༻*✽*༺•𖢻•꧂

꧁•𖢻•༻*✽*༺•𖢻•꧂

𝑊ℎ𝑎𝑡. 𝑇ℎ𝑒. 𝐹𝑢𝑐𝑘.

𝔙iolet Sorrengail–the woman now tethered to him, for the rest of their damned lives–had been given the direct gift of her little feathertail's whilst unbondeds attempted to kill her, 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑓 𝑎𝑛 ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑎𝑔𝑜.

𝔄nd this gift they must keep secret for the sake of everything, this extraordinary power? The ability to temporarily halt time.

𝐻𝑎𝑙𝑡. 𝑇𝑖𝑚𝑒! 𝑆𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝐷𝑢𝑛𝑛𝑒.

   𝔑ot only that–𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ 𝑖𝑠 𝑒𝑛𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑠–but apparently Andarna 'tis just a damned hatchling. Orphaned by parents whom died before she hatched, and thus adopted by his girl and Tairn.

   𝔚ith a long breath, Xaden all but sags against the wall beside Sorrengail's room–having just warded her door–and runs a hand through his windswept hair, the chill of the stones held together by mortar at his back seeping through his leathers and into his bones.

  𝔗he entire day, well into the night, had been one long muddled mess of death and secrets, and 'tis beginning to weigh on his already burden-heavy shoulders.

𝔄nd he knows, with the name Sorrengail told him, the one whom guided the unbonded to her dorm, come morning, the mayhem 'twill only worsen–𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟, 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑠𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑠.

𝔑o matter how impossible a word "trust" may seem for them.

ℌe won't let her live, nor will Tairn, either. But... he sighs, 'tis a problem for after the sun rises.

ℭrossing the hall in three quick strides toward the door into his beloved's room, the thick wood creaks softly on its hinges when he opens it. The sweet scent of his great love and moonlit darkness greets him as he slips into the room and closes the door behind him, the pale light dripping through the frosted glass of the windows.

ℌis onyx gaze finds his Ressy amidst the silvery darkness, moonbeams illuminating his still form upon the bed–asleep on his stomach beneath thick winter blankets, toned arms curled beneath his pillow. Those locks of starlight spilled across the pillow and down his bare back reflect the glow of the moon with his every soft breath.

𝔍ust the mere sight of his beloved, his sunlight, 'tis enough to lift the heavy weight from his shoulders, to ease his every burden.

𝔚ary not to wake his love–who looks so damned peaceful and beautiful bathed in moonlight like this it takes every ounce of his self-control not to pester him with kisses–Xaden shoves his boots off his heavy feet and tosses his weapons then upper-clothing aside by the armorie.

ℌe plops onto the wintry sheets with an exhausted sigh, the tension held within his muscles softening as Res' sunlit warmth envelopes him. Winding his arms around Reserras' trim waist, he molds himself against the body sculpted by the goddesses for him, and him alone.

𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑒, 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒, 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒. 𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑚𝑎𝑛, 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑔𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑒𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑛, 𝑤ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑠𝑜 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑦𝑒𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑑𝑠 ℎ𝑖𝑚𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑡ℎ 𝑜𝑓 𝐷𝑢𝑛𝑛𝑒, ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓. 𝐴𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒.

   𝔄t the sudden touch, Reserras tenses with an intake of breath before he sinks into blissful slumber again when those shadowy, smoky tendrils and the scent of mint lovingly wrap around him like a delicate veil–'tis only his shadow, his sluggish mind recognizes before sleep reclaims him.

   "Xae..."

   ℌe gently hushes him, "Go back to sleep, Ressy." And, not a second after, his breathing evens out again.

ℑndulging himself, he plants a gentle kiss in the juncture of Res' neck and shoulder, before resting his cheek on the soft skin of Res' back, sighing blissfully, and slowly but surely, Xaden's breathing matches the rhythm of Res' as his gentle heartbeat lulls him into slumber.

༻*✽*༺

—𝕴n the serene hush of the golden dawn, drenched in pale gold light spilling over the waking world and through the windows whilst listening to the distant birdsongs, Res leans against the headboard, stroking his fingers through Xaden's hair–𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑚, 𝑎𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑝𝑠.

   𝔗he man, himself, 'twere still peacefully resting, his light snores that warm Res' heart filling the room as soft and rhythmic breaths lift then lower his defined chest, arms draped around his lithe waist whilst his head rests on his stomach–rising and falling with Reserras' every breath.

   𝔗he Basgiath bells toll four times across the ravine, four o'clock. An hour left until the halls of the citadel 'twill be bustling with riders. An hour left until this tranquil moment 'twill end.

   𝔗he ebony wood of the headboard rattles slightly when his head falls back against it, a soft sigh slipping past his lips, the strands of his man's hair soft between his fingers with every stroke through the windswept strands.

   𝔄nd, in the silent morning, he finds himself wondering what the day ahead 'twill bring. Will his dragons decide he's ready and finally channel into him, deeming him trustworthy with their power? Will there be another battle for them to dissect in Battle Brief? Who else will join the death roll for tomorrow?

𝔅ecause it 'tis never a question of if Malek will claim another soul, always when.

   𝔖hifting slightly beneath the fur-lined blankets with another exhalation, a heavy breath 'tis drawn from his man and gold-speckled eyes flutter open sluggishly.

   𝔄 hum rumbles through Xaden's broad chest, "Ressy."

   𝔄 smile blooms on Res' lips, "Morning." He says, his hand drifting downward to Xaden's shoulder to give the muscled limb a gentle squeeze then onto his back, tracing the silver scars scattered across the golden-brown skin.

"How did the exchange go last night?" Reserras asks him–his voice soft and delicate in the gilded hush of his room, afraid speaking too loud 'twill shatter the moment of serenity they seldom get these days.

ℌe doesn't want it to end.

"Well."

𝑆ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑙, 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑒𝑙𝑠𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡, Reserras knows.

"What happened?"

𝔚ith a sigh through his nose, Xaden twists onto his back to meet Res' gaze–the curiosity within those blue depths catching in the pale gold light.

𝔅ringing Reserras' hand into his own, twisting and turning the black ring he knows once belonged to Lila Atonal–the woman who became like a mother to him when his own left him–Xaden tells him, "A group of unbondeds tried to kill Violet last night... and they were led by Amber Mavis."

"Hmm," the guttural sound seeps into Xaden's skin and stokes the hunger within his belly, "Violet isn't one to stir trouble here. If she says Mavis led the attack, I believe her."

"So do I. The pair of us need to begin trusting each other. For all our sakes."

"The pair of us," it rings in Reserras' head. And although he knows Xaden's words to be the truth, whose bitterness he's tried so hard to shove behind iron bars, he could not help the pinch of his heart.

𝔙iolet isn't her, this "situation" isn't the same as before, he tells himself.

"What will you do about it?" He asks.

"Kill her," Xaden doesn't hesitate to say.

𝑆𝑜 𝑖𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑚𝑠 𝐴𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟 𝑀𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑗𝑜𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ 𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑙 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑜𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑤, for nothing nor no one ever escaped Xaden Riorson–𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑑.

𝔖ighing, Res tilts his head to look out the windows–glass layered in a blanket of frost–gaze falling unto the sun rising above the snow-dusted mountains, casting the earth below in an ethereal golden glow.

𝔖till fiddling with Lila's ring, Xaden quirks a brow, recognizing the distant look in his Ressy's eyes, "What, Ressy?"

"Every day in this.. godsforsaken college," he all but growls the words, "someone else dies. I'm... I thought I'd get used to it, but..." His words die on his tongue, dissolving through a long breath.

   𝔄nd the corners of Xaden's mouth droop with a frown, his heart aching, "I know, Res." He soothes him with a gentle kiss to his knuckles. "No one expects you, any of us, to get used to it, not really. You just need to find a way to function through it, all of it. Whatever that way looks like, so long as it works."

   ℜes hums, and looking into his lover's eyes, he sees it for but a fleeting moment–the ghosts of every horror he's seen in this place for nearing three years now shinning in those onyx depths.

𝔄nd the sight tugs at Res' heartstrings, paining him like near to nothing before–𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑢𝑟𝑡𝑠 ℎ𝑖𝑚, 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑠 ℎ𝑖𝑚, 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑–but... it terrifies him, as well.

ℌe doesn't know what awaits in the path ahead in these next three years, yet he does know, whatever it 'tis will change him, perhaps everyone he knows, everyone he loves, forever.

𝔉or better or for worse, it all remains to be seen, he supposes.

"But I will not let this place steal that light inside of you, Reserras," Xaden's voice pulls him from his thoughts. "Because it is the only thing that keeps me going in those moments. You keep me alive, my sunlight."

***

𝔛aden barely finishes his words when Reserras leans over him, sealing his lips shut with a searing kiss. Res shifts his position until Xaden is beneath his heated body, who groans softly in his mouth.

𝔛aden 'twere slightly surprised by the sudden fervor, but nonetheless reciprocates his man's passion–𝑦𝑒𝑠, 𝑦𝑒𝑠, 𝑦𝑒𝑠.

ℌe buries his hands in Res' long pearlescent locks, tangling the starlit strands between his deft fingers, pulling him closer and pressing their scorching bodies together, leaving not the breath of an inch between them.

𝔗he kiss deepens–with teeth and biting and tongue–becoming more passionate the hotter their blood starts to boil beneath their skin. The gentleness from the earlier tender touches 'twere long gone, replaced by the sheer wildness of the dragon nature nestled deep within their souls.

𝑇𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑠.

ℑf there 'twas any minuscule voice of reason left within Reserras' mind, at this moment, this delicious moment, it was all gone, consumed by the fiery desire coursing through his veins. Commandant Panchek could've walked in on them and he wouldn't have stopped.

𝔑either of them would have.

𝔛aden hooks his leg around Reserras' waist and flips them, his blazing mouth moving from Res' lips to his throat, biting the ivory skin softly and planting kisses along his jugular, drawing short gasps from the Atonal's lips.

ℑn return, Reserras' nimble hands trace every inch of Xaden's tawny-brown skin–his chest, his back, his shoulders. Across those hundred-and-twelve silver scars, those toned muscles rippling beneath his skin, and his mouth-watering abdominal muscles. 𝐺𝑜𝑑𝑠, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒'𝑠 𝑠𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚.

ℑt 'twas suffocating. Hot, blazing hot. Scorching like dragonfire blistering on their skin and the two riders 'twere willing to burn together.

𝑇𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝐵𝑎𝑠𝑔𝑖𝑎𝑡ℎ.

   ℌips are pressed harder together in blind lust, drawing groans and gasps from both of them as they become lost in themselves, impatience settling deep in their sizzling bones. Gods, even the air around them has become unbearably hot. Xaden's deft fingers find the laces of Reserras' trousers and unties them hastily, desperately. His teeth meet the juncture of Res' neck and shoulder and bite harshly at the same time his hands find and grasp Reserras.

   𝔄 loud moan slips from Reserras' parted lips, the delightful sound echoing in the room, startling himself so he clamps his hands over his mouth.

   𝔛aden knowingly marks his sunlight in a place where anyone could see, because he 'tis done with hiding his love for this beautiful man, he wants them to see that Reserras Atonal belonged to him and him alone.

𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑒, 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒, 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒.

   "No. Let me hear you, my Reserras, my ears only." Xaden looms over him, murmuring into knuckles that have gone white, urging Reserras to uncover his mouth with soft kisses across the skin rough from years of punching the bark of sturdy trees.

   𝔄nd to hear Xaden growl so deep within his throat, so guttural, so possessively, to him whilst performing such a tender gesture in the midst of their lust, has a shiver rattling Reserras from head to toe.

   𝔑onetheless, the Atonal shakes his head reluctantly, his pupil blown wide with hunger, his mind half lost to desire. Xaden simply hums in response, but there's a mischievous glint in his eyes that makes Res wary.

   𝔖uddenly, his hand pulls Reserras' cock out of his trousers whilst untying the laces of his own with his other one. Xaden grasps both of their already leaking erections together and they both moan in unison at their joining.

   ℜes' eyes slightly roll backwards when this new, but so fucking delicious, sensation tears through his core, driving him beyond insanity. Sure, he touched himself before but having Xaden untangle him like this 'tis better than any of his wet dreams.

   ℌis hands abandon his mouth to twist themselves in his shadow's hair–to anchor himself, to ground himself to reality, or else, he might just drown, or suffocate.

   "Gods," he pants, breathless.

   "Which one are you calling out for, Ressy? Because there's none here, only me. And I don't share."

   𝔗hey seal their searing lips together again, grasping for hair and moaning in each other's mouths the faster Xaden's hands kept going. The speed and friction, 'tis unbearable, 'tis everything they've needed, both of the young riders 'twere falling, falling so painfully close but they were fighting to make it last just a little longer as they consume each other like this–like predators.

   𝔛aden groans against Reserras' sweet lips and his hands squeeze their leaking cocks harder, going mad with ecstasy.

   𝔚hilst one hand darts downward to Xaden's own, to urge them to put more pressure on their cocks, Reserras' other wraps around his shadow's throat, and he squeezes his neck, mirroring what Xaden 'tis doing inches lower.

   "ReserrasReserrasReserras..."

   𝔛aden moans his sunlight's name, like chanting a mantra or praying to a god.

   𝔗hen, he comes undone, with Reserras following quickly after in a silent cry.

   𝔗he shadow wielder slumps on top of him, breathing hotly and heavily beside Res' ear, and Res winds his arms around Xaden, holding his man as close as the physical boundaries of the world 'twill allow, feeling the rapid beat of his heart against his sweaty chest, mirroing his own.

   𝔗heir ragged breaths echo in unison throughout the room whilst their hearts gallop in tandem against their glistening chests. They catch their breath, wrapped in each other's familiar scent and warmth, savoring every minuscule second of the scarce time they have left together until the bells tolled.

   "Reserras," Xaden rolls off of Reserras once a steady rhythm of air flows in and out of his lungs. Res kisses him, this time softly and chastely.

***

   𝔐irroring the tender gesture with a kiss on the tip of Res' aquiline nose, Xaden presses their heads together, before speaking softly, "I wanted you to know before I do it, I'm going to make a change in Aetos and Belden's squads during formation today. Liam will be moving into your squad to – "

"To protect Violet." Res weren't all too surprised, it made logical sense–𝑤𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑡, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡... 𝑤𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑛'𝑡 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑘𝑠. Liam 'tis the best in their year, whose loyalty 'tis undoubted, ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑡 𝑉𝑖𝑜𝑙𝑒𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑒𝑙𝑠𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑔𝑒.

"Now.. what just happened between us, I – " Reserras doesn't allow Xaden to finish his words as he rolls onto him, propping himself on his palms laid on either side of his shadow's head.

   𝔄nd Reserras doesn't speak, there weren't any words in the world, merely slams his lips against Xaden's.

༻*✽*༺

     —"Oren Seifert." Captain Fitzgibbons closes the scroll, the riders standing in formation beneath the dais he stands upon–their breaths forming in clouds of fog in the chilled air swirling around them and tousling strands of hair. "We commend their souls to Malek."

"I can't believe they tried to kill you while you were sleeping." Rhiannon seethes quietly beside Violet—still enraged after Violet told the table what'd happened last night at breakfast half an hour ago when they all noticed the finger-shaped purple- and-blue bruises around her throat.

   𝔄nd, whilst Sorrengail told them, Reserras'd suddenly realized how quickly he might've lost Xaden if Mavis' almost-assassination had been successful, and the thought filled him with more terror than anything else ever had before.

   𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑠𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑚, 𝑅𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑎𝑠. 𝐹𝑜𝑐𝑢𝑠 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡, 𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑒𝑙𝑠𝑒, 'tis what he told himself.

   "Even worse, I think I'm getting used to it," 'tis Violet's sullen response as she shifts her weight to soothe the ache in her ribs.

   𝔚hilst Fitzgibbons goes on with some minor announcements, Reserras tunes the scribe's monotone voice out when he notices Xaden striding toward them, cutting through the space between the Flame and Tail sections of his wing.

   𝔄s it always does–𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔'𝑠... 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡–Res' heart flutters wildly in his chest at the sight of Xaden. As fucking beautiful as he is lethal with the golden glow of the sun beaming down on him.

   ℌe looks deceptively calm as he approaches Second Squad, but Reserras all but feels Xaden's tension as if 'tis his own–like a panther prowling toward his prey. The wind ruffles his hair, and Res withholds a grin. 𝐻𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠𝑛'𝑡 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑡𝑟𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑢𝑙... ℎ𝑒 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑖𝑠.

   𝐺𝑜𝑑𝑠, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑦 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑎𝑛 ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑎𝑔𝑜...  

   𝔉ola grumbles, her displeasure rippling through the bond. "𝐻𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑙 ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑎𝑛."

   𝔗hose gold-speckled onyx eyes meet Reserras' pale depths for the beat of a moment and thin, smoky shadows slither up his legs to wrap around his wrist like a delicate bracelet. And the inky, black darkness strokes itself across his knuckles whilst he addresses Aetos, ignoring Fitzgibbons behind him. "There's a change to your squad roll."

   "Wingleader?" Dain questions, his spine straightening. "We just absorbed four from the dissolution of the third squad."

   "Yes," his tone bored, Xaden looks to the right, where Second Squad, Tail Section stands at attention like all the rest amidst the frigid courtyard. "Belden, we're making a roll change."

   "Yes, sir." The squad leader nods once.

   "Aetos, Vaughn Penley will be leaving your command, and you'll be gaining Liam Mairi from Tail Section."

   𝔖eemingly deciding against arguing, Aetos' mouth forms a thin line as he nods. They all watch as the two first-year riders exchange places–Penley's only been with Second Squad since Threshing, thus there 'tis no heartfelt goodbye from the original squad, but the other three grumble.

   𝔏iam nods at Xaden, and Violet's stomach suddenly twists with a realization–she knows exactly why he's being put under Dain's command. And, although she admires the tall and built man she knows is close with Reserras for a second, or two, she couldn't help the frustration bristling beneath her skin.

   "I do not need a bodyguard." The second to youngest Sorrengail snarls at her wingleader–the man she 'tis unwillingly tethered to.

𝔅ut Xaden doesn't acknowledge her, facing Aetos instead. "Aside from Reserras, Liam is statistically the strongest first-year in the quadrant. He has the fastest time up the Gauntlet, hasn't lost a single challenge, and is bonded to an exceptionally strong Red Daggertail. Any squad would be lucky to have him, and he's all yours, Aetos. You can thank me when you win the Squad Battle in spring."

   𝔏iam steps into formation behind Violet, between Reserras and Sawyer. He greets his brother in all but blood with a grin, one Reserras returns, nudging his elbow against his.

"It'll be good to finally have a sparring partner who can last more than three minutes," Res whispers with a smirk curling the edges of his lips.

𝔏iam snickers, "Same here."

"I. Do. Not. Need. A. Bodyguard." Violet all but growls, louder than before.

𝔒ne of the first-years behind them gasps, mortified by her audacity, no doubt.

𝔄head of the newlings, Imogen snorts, "Good luck with that approach."

𝔏iam masks his snicker with a soft cough, and Res huffs in amusement beneath his breath, glancing down at his boots for a moment as he settles his smirk.

𝔛aden walks past Aetos and stands directly in front of Violet, leaning into her space as he towers over her. Reserras swallows the sudden lump in his throat, all amusement from before now gone.

𝐺𝑜𝑑𝑠, 𝑤ℎ𝑦 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡?

"You do, though, as we both learned last night. And I can't be everywhere you are. But Liam here," he points to the blond Tyr behind her, "he's a first-year, so he can be in every class, at every challenge, and I even had him assigned to library duty, so I hope you get used to him, Sorrengail."

"You're overstepping."

"You haven't begun to see overstepping," he growls, voice dropping low. "Any threat against you is a threat against me, and as we've previously established, I have more important things to do, and better places to be, than sleep on your floor."

ℌeat flushes up her neck and stains her cheeks, "He is not sleeping in my room."

"Of course not." He smirks. "I had him moved into the one next to yours. Wouldn't want to overstep."

𝔚ithout another word, Xaden turns on his heel and walks away, headed back to his place at the front of the formation, though not without telling the shadows to gently squeeze his Ressy's wrist.

𝔄lthough his heart flutters at the silent farewell, Res softly sighs, eyes searching the crowd for the only other head of silver hair amidst the formation and his tight chest loosens upon spotting Raelon stood with his squad in First Wing.

   𝔐eeting his brother's gaze, the corner of Raelon's mouth twitches with that gentle grin of his, dipping his chin in a small nod, one Res returns.

   "Fucking mated dragons," Dain fumes, keeping his eyes forward.

   ℭaptain Fitzgibbons finishes his announcements–none of which Reserras listened to–moving to the back of the raised, stone dais where a pair of younger scribes await, and as the majority of the riders in the crowd break formation to leave the yard for the first classes of the day, Commandant Panchek takes the podium.

   "What's going on with Panchek?" Rhiannon quirks a curious brow.

   "Not sure," Violet shakes her head with a deep breath that twists into a wince when her ribs begin to throb.

   "It has to be something big if he's fumbling with a Codex up there." Rhiannon says.

   ℜeserras, though he could guess what 'tis about to happen, remains silent, fingers curling into closed fists as he crosses his arms behind his straightened back.

   𝐴𝑙𝑙 𝑖𝑛 𝑑𝑢𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒.

   "Quiet," Aetos orders, glancing over his shoulder at them, only to do a double-take when he catches sight of Violet's neck. His eyes widen, "Vi?"

   "I'm fine." She assures him, but he's still staring at her throat, frozen in shock. "Squad Leader Aetos, people are staring." But Dain doesn't look away, even as Panchek begins to speak at the podium. "Dain!"

   ℌe blinks, jerking his gaze to hers, the apology in his brown eyes prominent. "Is that what Riorson meant by last night?"

   𝔖he nods.

   "I didn't know. Why didn't you tell me?"

   "I'm fine," she repeats, gesturing toward the dais with a lift of her chin. "Later."

   ℌe turns, but the motion 'tis reluctant. 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑦'𝑟𝑒 𝑐𝑒𝑟𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑑𝑖𝑓𝑓𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑑𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑝𝑒𝑡, 𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 "𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑝𝑙𝑒" 𝑒𝑥𝑐𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡, 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛.

   "It has been brought to my attention as your commandant that a breach of the Codex has occured," Panchek calls out, his voice floating over the crowd–𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ, 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑛𝑢𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑠 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑣𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑑𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠𝑛'𝑡 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑐 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑦 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒. "As you know, breaches of our most sacred laws are not to be tolerated." He continues, "This matter will be addressed here and now. Will the accuser please step forward."

   "Someone's in trouble," Rhiannon whispers. "Think Ridoc finally got caught in Tyvon Varen's bed?"

   "That's hardly against the Codex," Ridoc murmurs beside Reserras.

   "He's the executive officer for Second Wing." Violet sends a pointed look over her shoulder.

   "And?" Ridoc shrugs, grinning without a touch of remorse. Res snorts. "Fraternizing with command is frowned upon, not unlawful." 

   𝔖he sigh, facing forward. "I miss sex."

   "If you're looking for a little fun, I'm happy to oblige – " Ridoc starts, shoving his floppy brown hair off his forehead with a wink. 

   "I miss good sex," Violet counters, smothering a smile. "Besides, apparently you're spoken for."

   "We're not exclusive," Ridoc smirks. "It's like Rhiannon and what's-her-name..."

   "Tara," Rhiannon offers.

   "Will you all shut the hell up?" Aetos barks, the command in his tone sealing their mouths shut.

   𝔄head of them, Xaden climbs the short, stone steps onto the dais. And Reserras knows –

   "This is about me," Violet whispers.

   ℌe stands at the podium, filling the dais, the entire courtyard, with his presence. Reserras remembers his father having that very same magnetism, the ability to hold and capture a crowd with nothing but his words–𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑒𝑡 𝑋𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑛 ℎ𝑎𝑠𝑛'𝑡 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑠𝑝𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑛, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑎𝑟𝑒, ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ 𝑖𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑖𝑝𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛.

   '𝔗is one of the many things Reserras admires about Xaden Riorson. 

   "Early this morning," he begins, his deep voice carrying over the formation, "a rider in my wing was brutally, illegally attacked in her sleep with the intent of murder by a group primarily composed of unbondeds."

   𝔐urmurs and gasps fill the air–its cold breath seeping through Reserras' leathers and shivering his bones the longer they stand in the yard–and Aetos' shoulders stiffen.

   "As we all know, this is a violation of Article Three, Section Two of the Dragon Rider's Codex and, in addition to being dishonorable, is a capital offense." Xaden's hands clench the sides of the podium. "Having been alerted by my dragon, I interrupted the attack along with two other Fourth Wing riders." He dips his chin toward his wing, and two riders–Garrick and Bodhi–break formation to climb the steps and stand behind Xaden, their hands at their sides. "As it was a matter of life and death, I personally executed six of the would-be murderers, as witnessed by Flame Section Leader Garrick Tavis and Tail Section Executive Officer Bodhi Durran."

   "Both Tyrs. How convenient," Nadine drawls from the row behind Reserras–one of the newbies Second Squad gained the morning after Threshing.

   𝔙iolet glares over her shoulder at Nadine, noticing the foster-brothers keep their eyes forward–neither responding to nor acknowledging the insult.

   "But the attack was orchestrated by a rider who fled before I arrived," Xaden continues. "A rider who had access to the map of where all first-years are assigned to sleep, and that rider must be brought to swift justice."

ℜeserras' shoulders rise and fall with a breath, intertwining his fingers through the velvet shadows still coiled around his hands–as if he 'twere holding Xaden's hand, gifting to his man his silent and unwavering devotion. 𝐼𝑡𝑠 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑢𝑔𝑙𝑦.

"I call you to answer for your crime against Cadet Sorrengail..." Xaden's lethal focus shifts to the center of the formation, "Wingleader Amber Mavis."

𝔗he quadrant draws one long breath as a whole the moment before an uproar rips through the crowd, the shocked gazes of every rider pivoting between Xaden, Amber, and Violet.

"What the hell?" Dain bites out, obviously in disbelief. Reserras scoffs beneath his breath–𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑙𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑓𝑎𝑟 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑒, 𝑖𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑚𝑠.

"She's a Tyr, too, Nadine," Ridoc says over his shoulder with a glare directed at the first-year. "Or are you only biased against marked ones?"

𝔐avis' family stayed loyal to Navarre, 𝑠ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑐𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑛 𝑛𝑜𝑟 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑐 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑢𝑠.

"Amber would never," Dain shakes his head. "A wingleader would never." He turns completely to face Violet. "Get up there and tell everyone that he's lying, Vi."

ℜeserras sends a seething glare toward his squad leader, lip curling with a sneer, whose yet to earn even an ounce of his respect, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑑𝑜𝑢𝑏𝑡 ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙.

"But he's not."

"It's impossible." His cheeks flush a mottled shade of red.

"I was there, Dain." The reality of his inability to trust her word hurts so much more than she ever expected it 'twould, like a blow to her already bruised ribs.

"Wingleaders are beyond reproach – "

"Then why are you so quick to call our own wingleader a liar?" She interrupts with a hard edge to her tone, quirking her brows, all but daring him to say the very thing he's so careful to keep quiet–that he could never trust a marked one, any of them.

𝔅ehind him, Amber steps forward, separating herself from the formation. "I have committed no such crime!"

"See?" Dain swings his arm, pointing toward the redhead. "Put a stop to this right now, Violet."

ℜeserras narrows his eyes at Aetos' sheer audacity, 𝑠𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑎𝑛 𝑎𝑠𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑒.

"She was with them in my room," Violet tells him simply, knowing no amount of shouting will convince him. Nothing will. And it hurts her, but she doesn't allow it to show.

"That's impossible." He lifts his hands, as though ready to cup her face. "Let me see."

ℜeserras tilts his head, shifting slightly on his feet, 𝑠𝑒𝑒?

𝔗he shock of what he intends to do has Violet stumbling backward, and Reserras and Liam tense at the recoile–poised to strike should Dain touch her.

"Give me the memory," he orders.

𝐻𝑜𝑙𝑦 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑡, Reserras puts it all together in an instant, 𝐴𝑒𝑡𝑜𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑎 𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑦 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟. But it must be limited to touch, he surmises–𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑤𝑠 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ– and tells himself to stay the hell away from Aetos' reach from now on.

"𝐼𝑓 ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑜𝑢𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝐼'𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑒𝑙𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑙𝑒𝑠ℎ 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠," Fola growls.

𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦? 𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑒, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑙𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑜 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ?

𝔉ola grumbles something in dragon-ish through the bond, and he smothers a smirk. Despite her protests, he knows he's growing on her.

"𝐼𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑠, 𝑝𝑎𝑙𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑖𝑟," she scoffs.

ℑndignation lifts Violet's chin, her hazel gaze hardening at the man she once called her best friend. "Touch me without permission, and you'll spend the rest of your life regretting it."

   𝔅ehind her, Reserras and Liam smirk with pride as surprise ripples over Aetos' features.

   "Wingleaders," Xaden's voice carries over the chaos. "We need a quorum."

   𝔅oth Nyra and Septon Izar–the wingleaders for First and Second Wing–climb the stairs to the dais, passing by Mavis as she stands utterly exposed amidst the parted crowd.

   𝔄 moment after, the familiar sound of wings beating against the wind consumes the air, and the riders look toward the ridgeline as six dragons curve along the mountain, flying straight for the yard.

   𝔄nd the biggest amongst them is Violet's Black Morningstartail, Tairn.

   𝔚ithin the span of mere seconds, they reach the citadel and hover over the thick walls, wind from the strong flaps of their wings coursing through the yard and slapping against their cheeks. Then, one by one, they land on their perch, Tairn at the center of the grouping.

   𝔗he black dragon's entire frame exudes menace as his talons crush the masonry underneath his grip, and his narrowed, angry eyes focus on Mavis.

   𝔖gaeyl 'tis perched to her mate's right, positioning herself upon the thick battlements behind Xaden. Her golden eyes find the younger Atonal amidst the crowd, tracing his every movement–just like after Parapet.

   ℌe honestly wishes he could ask her why the hell he's so damned interesting to her, but he has a will to live.

   𝔖he's as terrifying as she always is, but then again Reserras'd never imagined he'd bond a pair of dragons even more frightening... 𝑡𝑜 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑚𝑒.

   𝔑yra's Red Scorpiontail looms behind her as well and Izar's Brown Daggertail mirrors the stance to the left. On the ends, puffing blasts of steam, are Commandant Panchek's Green Clubtail and Mavis' Orange Daggertail.

𝔖team rises in pale wisps from the daunting dragons' scales glittering like thousands of gemstones beneath the dappled light.

"Shit's about to get real," Sawyer says, breaking formation to stand at Violet's side, and she feels Res, Ridoc, and Liam at her back.

"You can stop this all right now, Violet. You have to," Aetos implores. "I don't know what you saw last night, but it wasn't Amber. She cares too much about the rules to break them."

ℜeserras lifts his brisk eyes into an irritated roll, 𝐼𝑓 𝐼 𝑎𝑠𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑛 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑒, 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑜 𝑖𝑡?

ℌe all but sees Grian's smirk in his mind, "𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑢𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑡𝑜𝑜, 𝑤𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑛𝑜𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑒, 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑛𝑒."

𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑦.

𝔉ola chortles in amusement.

"You're using this to get revenge on my family!" Mavis shouts at Xaden. "For not supporting your father's rebellion!"

ℜeserras sneers, and his dragons growl at his anger flooding through the bond. 𝐿𝑜𝑤. 𝐹𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝐵𝑙𝑜𝑤.

𝔅ut Xaden doesn't even acknowledge it as he turns to the other wingleaders.

𝔗hough, not so long after, every dragon beside Tairn and Sgaeyl stiffens on the wall, and the riders are quick to follow, silence falling over the courtyard–the air now warmer than before the dragons arrival.

𝔗hey all know.

ℜeserras expels a breath–sharing memories, another extent of the dragons power, 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑑.

"That spineless wretch," Rhiannon seethes, her hand squeezing Violet's in her own even tighter.

𝔇ain pales.

"Believe me now?" Violet hurls it like the accusation it is. "You're supposed to be my oldest friend, Dain. My best friend. There's a reason I didn't tell you."

ℌe staggers backward.

"The wingleaders have formed a quorum and are in unanimous agreement." Xaden announces, flanked by Nyra and Septon while the commandant looms at the back of the dais. "We find you guilty, Amber Mavis."

"No!" She cries. "It is no crime to rid the quadrant of the weakest rider! I did it to protect the integrity of the wings!" She begins to pace across the frosted grass in panic, looking to everyone, anyone for help.

𝔄s a whole, the formation moves backward.

"And as is our law, your sentence will be carried out by fire," Nyra states.

"NO!" Amber looks to her dragon, "Claidh!"

ℭlaidh snarls at the other dragons and lifts a claw. In response, Tairn swivels his massive head toward Claidh, his roar shaking the very ground beneath the riders feet, then snaps his teeth at the smaller orange. Claidh retreats, her head hanging in sullen defeat as she grips the wall again.

𝔗he sight squeezes Reserras' heart in sorrow's grasp, not for Mavis but for Claidh.

𝑁𝑜 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑔𝑜𝑛 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑢𝑓𝑓𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑎 ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑎𝑛'𝑠 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒.

"Please don't," Violet begs, seemingly sharing his sentiment, looking to Xaden as she begs, her voice breaking by the end, "Please give her a chance."

ℌe holds her gaze, but doesn't so much as show a flicker of emotion.

"Claidh," Amber whimpers, the courtyard so unbelievably silent that the sound carries.

𝔗he formation splits at the center.

𝔚ith a menacing growl, Tairn extends his head then neck past the stone dais toward Mavis. Then he opens his jaws, tongue curling, and renders her into a pile of ashes with a blast of fire so hot it could be felt thirty feet away, every rider feeling the wash of its heat.

ℑt's over in a heartbeat.

𝔄 gruesome scream rends the air, shattering a window in the academic wing, and every rider slams their hands over their ears as Claidh mourns.

𝔄 tear slips from Reserras' blind eye, he will never forget that cry–the sound of a dragon's suffering, and it breaks something within him, something foreign, something ancient.

༻*✽*༺

—𝕿he mighty flap of Grian's gold-tinged wings bending the wind to his will 'tis the only sound aside from the whistling of the wind as he glides a fair distance behind Tairn.

   𝔉ola flies alongside her mate, spiked wings slicing through the clouds with a lethal grace.

   𝔄head of the daunting Black Morningstartail, Smachd twists into a steep bank and spirals into a dive, and all the dragons follow. When Grian levels out, Reserras expels a long breath.

   𝔈ven the grey sky seemed more quiet, solemn, after the events of morning formation, the world heavy and sorrowful with Claidh's grief–whose cries can still be heard echoing from the Vale.

   𝔊ods, it hurts something deep within Reserras every time another wail echoed through the winds.

   "𝐼𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑤𝑎𝑦, 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑛𝑒. 𝐶𝑙𝑎𝑖𝑑ℎ 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠. 𝐻𝑒𝑟 𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑜𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑡𝑢𝑝𝑖𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑦. 𝑆ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑠ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑐𝑐𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑒𝑑, 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑘𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢."

   𝔘tterly confused at Grian's words, Res' brows furrow above his flight goggles, 𝑊ℎ𝑎𝑡? 𝐻𝑜𝑤 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑘𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑚𝑒? 𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑡𝑟𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝑔𝑜 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑦 𝑟𝑜𝑜𝑚 𝑛𝑒𝑥𝑡.

𝔊rian huffs a scoff beneath him, smoke billowing from his nostrils, mimicking Smachd's maneuvers with fluid ease–albeit still surpassing the simple ascents and spirals.

"𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟'𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑘𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 ℎ𝑖𝑚, 𝑚𝑦 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑛𝑒."

𝔗he wind stings through his nose when he deeply inhales the searing chill, his chest trembling with the truth in Grian's words. He isn't wrong, he never has been.

   "𝑂𝑏𝑣𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑙𝑦."

   ℜeserras Atonal couldn't even bear to fathom the mere thought of a world without Xaden Riorson within it, a life where his shadow 'tweren't by his side, to have and to hold, to love.

   𝑁𝑜, 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠𝑛'𝑡 𝑒𝑥𝑖𝑠𝑡... 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑒, 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝐼 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑒𝑥𝑖𝑠𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑚.

   𝔗he day Xaden dies, a wretched day 'twill be, 'tis the day Reserras does–𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑡ℎ, 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒. 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑛 𝑖𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ, 𝑒𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟. 𝐼𝑡'𝑑 𝑏𝑒 𝑠𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑔𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑧𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑚.

𝔗he thought squeezes something within his chest... his heart, he realizes, because just the thought is too much to bear.

𝐹𝑢𝑐𝑘. 𝐼𝑓 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑒𝑠, 𝑋𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑛 𝑑𝑖𝑒𝑠, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐼... He shakes his head. 𝑁𝑜.

ℜeserras doesn't allow the thought, this newly discovered truth, to overcome him. He trusts Liam to protect her, and he knows that long before Tairn had bonded her, Violet Sorrengail held her own on her own.

𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑠𝑛'𝑡 𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑘, 𝑠ℎ𝑒'𝑠 𝑝𝑒𝑟ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑠 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑡–𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑛𝑜, 𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛.

"𝑌𝑒𝑠," Grian chuffs in agreement. "𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑡. 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑣𝑖𝑣𝑒." The he-dragon spoke like his words 'twere nothing but the truth... and Reserras hopes they 'twere.

"𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑢𝑏𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑒. 𝑆𝑡𝑜𝑝 𝑖𝑡."

ℜes' breath swirls into a cloud of fog past his, slightly chapped, lips when he sighs, 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑛'𝑡 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚, 𝐺𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑛. 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑜𝑜, 𝐹𝑜𝑙𝑎.

𝔗he she-dragon huffs.

𝐼 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑑𝑜𝑢𝑏𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑙𝑙 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑡 𝑚𝑒–𝐼 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙. 𝐵𝑢𝑡... 𝑖𝑡'𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑤𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑢𝑠. His gloved hands tighten their grip on the pommel, as if to anchor himself. 𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑑𝑖𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑒𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑟 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑑𝑎𝑦, 𝐼 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 –

"𝐸𝑛𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ, 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑛𝑒. 𝐷𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑙𝑒𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑔𝑛𝑎𝑤 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦. 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑙 𝐼 𝑠𝑎𝑦 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑛."

ℜeserras huffs another breath, wiping the gathering fog away from his flight goggles with his thumbs.

   "𝑀𝑦 𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡, 𝑝𝑎𝑙𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑖𝑟. 𝐼 𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑜 𝐼 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑘𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒. 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑑𝑖𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑖𝑡–𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑒."

   𝔄 devious grin quirks on the edges of his lips, 𝐼 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑎𝑖𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑒, 𝐹𝑜𝑙𝑎.

   𝔗he black daggertail scoffs, and he feels her roll her molten-gold eyes. "𝐷𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑖𝑡, 𝑝𝑎𝑙𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑖𝑟. 𝑌𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑎𝑛 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑢𝑓𝑓𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑓𝑎𝑟 𝑡𝑜𝑜 ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑓𝑜𝑟 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝑑."

   𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑠, Res smirks, 𝑐𝑢𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑙 ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑠.

   𝔉ola grumbles. The gruff chortle rumbling through Grian's chest vibrates through Reserras' belly, and he snickers. But a menacing glare from Fola seals their mouths shut.

   𝐵𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑𝑦 𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑓𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠ℎ𝑒-𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑡.

   "𝐼 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡."

__________•༻*✽*༺•__________

༻ 𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 ༺

🤭.