Empyrean

"You don't think you'll need those?" Sorrengail asks, gripping two of her daggers and facing me on the mat with an impressive lack of trembling. Hell, she looks more pissed than she does terrified that I'm about to end her, even though I've handed my weapons to Imogen.

"This is reckless," Sgaeyl lectures.

"Nope. Not when you brought enough for the both of us." My mouth quirks into a smile as I crook my fingers at her, then lock my shields firmly in place, since Aetos hovers close by. The second-year is good on the mat, even if he's a little too straight-laced to really be the best in this place. "Let's go."

She takes a fighting stance, and I forget the members of Second Squad surrounding the mat, forget the mission I'm due to fly this weekend, focusing solely on her. Violet Sorrengail. The five-foot-nothing daughter of the general who executed my father. I have every right to ruin her, according to the Codex. She might fall under my chain of command, but she's not in my squad.

I could snap her neck and no one in this room would interfere. But the hundred and seven souls I'm responsible for would pay the price. So what the fuck am I doing on this mat?

Her posture changes subtly, her wrist flicking a second before she flings a dagger at my damned chest.

I catch it by pure reflex, then cluck my tongue at her. "Already seen that move."

That is what I'm doing out here. Took me all of two weeks to realize she's somehow figured out who she'll be facing and has been poisoning her opponents. That brilliant, devious mind might regrettably be a complete turn-on, but she's going to get herself killed if she depends solely on that method-and flinging daggers like a carnival act. To my surprise, the thought doesn't sit right with me. Nothing about her does.

She attacks in a typical first-year swipe-and-kick combo, which is as easy to predict as it is to block. I pluck the badly balanced dagger from her grip and catch her by the thigh, using her own momentum and slight bodyweight against her to drop her to the mat.

Her hazel eyes flare wide as she stares up at me, fighting to draw breath, and I drop the dagger at her side and kick it out of her reach, toward the squad leader who should have taught her better.

Were she any other opponent, I'd put the blade against her throat, proving my point and ending the match, but fuck me if I don't feel like I somehow owe the first-year for keeping her mouth shut about the meeting she saw under the oak tree. My form of gratitude just happens to be not killing her as she lies at my feet, battling her own lungs.

Her ribs finally rise, and she heaves herself upward to a sitting position, then tries to plunge a knife in my thigh.

Oh, for fuck's sake.

I block the strike with my right forearm, then take hold of her wrist with my left hand and disarm her as I lean down into her space, mere inches from her face. "Going for blood today, are we, Violence?" I whisper.

Rage shines in those mesmerizing eyes as I drop her blade to the mat and kick it out of reach also. She's too easy to disarm, and her false confidence that she's not will get her killed. And why the fuck isn't she using weapons suited for her body type and fighting style? Not that she actually has a fighting style yet.

"My name is Violet," she retorts, and I half expect her to hiss at me like a cat. That's exactly what she re- minds me of, all sleek lines and bared claws. Only the pulse fluttering beneath my fingertips gives away her fear.

Violet is too soft of a name for her. Too breakable. I'm well aware of the shit people talk about her bones and joints, but from what I've seen, the woman has a core of steel.

"I think my version fits you better." I release her wrist and stand to my full height, offering her a hand up and hoping she's too smart to take it. "We're not done yet.”

But she does.

Fuck me, she's naive. I pull her to her feet, then whip her around before she can get her bearings, twisting her arm behind her back and trapping our hands between us as I tug her hard against my chest. Too naive for this place.

"Damn it!" she snaps.

I slip one of her obnoxiously big daggers from her thigh sheath and lift it to the soft skin of her throat, pinning her in place with my forearm. Her head falls back against my chest, the silver ends of her hair braided up like a crown. She barely reaches my collarbone, so I dip my head so the others won't hear, and gods she smells really fucking good like-

No thinking about how she smells, jackass.

"Don't trust a single person who faces you on this mat," I lecture quietly near the shell of her ear, careful to keep my mouth off her. Since when do I think about putting my mouth on an opponent?

"Even someone who owes me a favor?" she retorts, keeping her voice equally low.

Warmth flares in my chest in appreciation of her discretion, her quick observation that this lesson isn't for public dissemination, and I drop the knife, kicking it to her squad leader just like the other two and ignoring the bluster of threat in his stern expression.

"I'm the one who decides when to grant that favor. Not you." I release her so I don't dislocate her shoulder and step back.

She acts immediately, spinning with a raised fist, and I bat it away from my throat.

"Good." I can't help but smile as I block her next attempt just as easily. "Going for the throat is your best option, as long as it's exposed." 

Her cheeks flush, anger narrowing her eyes as she kicks in the same fucking combination she's already tried, and I grab hold of her thigh again, unsheathing the last dagger there and letting it fall before I release her. I lift my scarred eyebrow in sheer disappointment. She's smarter than that. "I expect you to learn from your mistakes." I kick it to Aetos.

She retrieves her next weapon from her rib sheath and takes a defensive stance as she circles me. It's all I can do not to sigh in complete, utter annoyance. I don't need to see her to hear every step on the mat behind me as she hesitates.

"You going to prance or are you going to strike?" That should get her moving.

The shadows on the mat give her away, and I twist and duck as she jabs forward, the knife slicing through the air where I'd been standing. At least she really went for it, but the move leaves her exposed, so I use her arm to flip her around the side of my torso, sending her face-first into the mat and following her down. 

She gasps when I wrench her arm into a submission hold, forcing her to drop the dagger. Careful to balance most of my weight on my right, I set my left knee onto her back just enough to stress her. She has to learn how to move under pressure, how to think on the edge of death. I strip away another of her daggers and fling it at the squad leader's feet, then pull another from her ribs and set it to the exposed skin beneath her jaw.

Then I invade what little space she has. "Taking out your enemy before the battle is really smart; I'll give that to you," I whisper into her ear, and she tenses beneath me. Yeah, Violence, I know what you've been up to. "Problem is, if you aren't testing yourself in here" - I drag the blade down her neck, careful not to draw blood - "then you're not going to get any better."

"You'd rather I die, no doubt," she spits back, the side of her face squished against the mat.

"And be denied the pleasure of your company?" Sarcasm drips from my retort.

"I fucking hate you."

A corner of my mouth lifts. Gods, she's just as merciless as Sgaeyl when it comes to her tongue. "That doesn't make you special."

I gain my feet and kick the knives to Aetos, leaving Sorrengail with two more to fight with as I offer my hand again.

She scowls, but doesn't take the help this time, standing on her own, and another smile curves my mouth. I can't remember the last time I had so much fun. Every single one of her expressions is beautifully raw. There's no guile. No artifice. But there's also no control. "She can be taught."

"She's a quick learner," she fires back.

"That remains to be seen." I take two steps backward and beckon her forward by crooking my fingers again.

"You've made your damn point." Her voice rises to a public level, and Imogen gasps behind me, no doubt worried that I'll lose my temper and kill the first year.

But killing her is the last thing on my mind.

"Trust me, I've barely gotten started." I cross my arms and shift my weight back, curious to see what she does next and even more perplexed as to why I care so damned much.

Sure, she's beautiful, but I've never let the symmetry of someone's facial features sway me. And it's not the palpable hatred in her ever-changing eyes, either. I'm used to being loathed. But the combination of her hatred and her silence about seeing us meet is too intriguing to ignore-

She moves, and I'm too fucking distracted to react like usual, and when she kicks for the backs of my knees, I fall. Hard.

Holy shit.

"What did I say about being reckless?" Sgaeyl pushes through my shields. "The silver-haired girl is a distraction you can't afj-"

I plant my feet on that mental hillside in Tyrrendor and reinforce my shields, blocking her out. She's never going to let me live this down.

Sorrengail lands on my back and attempts a head-lock. Good for her. It's a solid choice, but she isn't physically strong enough to cut off my air supply. She's fighting like she's six inches taller and has another forty pounds on her instead of leaning into her actual strengths.

I don't bother with her arms. Twisting quickly, I break her grip and grasp the backs of her thighs in one motion, throwing us into a roll that ends with me pinning her back to the mat. Before she can take another breath, I put my forearm against the delicate line of her throat but don't press.

There are over a dozen different ways to end her in this position, and I have all the leverage. But though my hips anchor hers to the mat, I have most of my weight braced on my left arm so I don't crush her.

She's well and fucking caught, and the flash of fear that's quickly masked by fury in her eyes tells me she knows it, too.

Damn it. I don't want to crush her.

What the fuck is happening to me?

She grabs for a dagger and makes the monumental mistake of going for my shoulder.

I abandon her throat and capture her wrist, pinning it above her head. Then I watch her face with rapt fascination as her expression shifts from wide-eyed shock, to tensing fear, to pursed-lipped anger all in a matter of seconds. The speed with which she processes information and compartmentalizes her feelings is such an advantage, and I doubt she even knows it.

Pink flushes up her neck and into her cheeks, and suddenly I find myself studying her for an entirely different reason. The blush, the skittered pulse, the way her gaze flicks toward my mouth for less than a second ... I'm not the only one attracted here.

Fuck. This is dangerous. She is dangerous.

The world outside the mat ceases to exist as my focus narrows to just Violence. She really is stunning, especially when pissed. Tension surges between us, and my heartbeat jumps despite my best effort to lock that shit down. But damn if I'm not critically aware of the feel of her body beneath mine, the warmth of her skin under my fingertips, the way her breath catches as I lower my face to hers slowly.

Sliding my fingers up the heel of her hand, I force her fist open, then toss the blade across the mat before freeing her wrist.

"Get your dagger," I demand.

"What?" Her eyes fly wide.

"Get. Your. Dagger," I repeat, moving her hand with mine and dragging it to her ribs, to the last of her daggers. I curl my fingers around hers, grabbing the hilt.

Even her hands are soft. Fragile. Breakable. And if I don't teach her how to use her petite size to her advantage, the next opponent will use it to shatter her. And for some fucking reason I can't identify or deny ... I care.

Gods damn it.

"You're tiny." Anger simmers in my stomach.

"Well aware." She glares.

"So stop going for bigger moves that expose you." I bring our laced hands to my side and drag the tip down my ribs. "A rib shot would have worked just fine." Then I lead our hands around to my back, leaving myself vulnerable for the first time since I walked into this prison of a war college. "Kidneys are a good fit from this angle, too."

She swallows, and I fight the urge to watch the motion of her throat, holding her gaze instead. I swear, her eyes seem different every time I look into them. No wonder I can't look away.

I bring our hands to my waist, keeping my eyes locked on hers. "Chances are, if your opponent is in armor, it's weak here. Those are three easy places you could have struck before your opponent would have had time to stop you."

Her lips part, and she draws a shaky breath.

"Do you hear me?" I'm sure as hell not repeating this lesson.

She nods.

"Good. Because you can't poison every enemy you come across," I whisper, watching the blood drain from her face as I level the accusation. "You're not going to have time to offer tea to some Braevi gryphon rider when they come at you."

"How did you know?" She tenses under me, and fuck, her thighs clench around my hips.

I have to get the fuck off her before she realizes she has another weapon at her disposal when it comes to me. "Oh, Violence, you're good, but I've known better poison masters. The trick is to not make it quite so obvious."

Brennan would give one of his frustrated sighs if he knew just how obvious his little sister was. Then again, he'd also try to kick my ass for the position I have Violence in.

A bitter taste floods my mouth. She has no clue he's alive.

She opens her mouth like she's about to speak.

"I think she's been taught enough for the day," Aetos barks.

It takes every ounce of control I possess not to startle at the sudden reminder that we're not alone. "He always that overprotective?" I mutter, putting a couple of inches between us.

"He cares about me." She narrows her eyes at me, which I'm starting to think is her default expression.

"He's holding you back. Don't worry. Your little poisoning secret is safe with me." I arch my scarred brow and hope she gets the hint to keep my secret safe, too. Then I slide our joined hands along her side and sheathe the jewel-hilted blade she has no business carrying. It's too fucking big for her. Too easy to knock loose.

"You're not going to disarm me?" she questions as I slip my fingers from hers and lift my weight off her.

Thank gods she has the common sense to release my hips from the grip of her thighs, because mine has fled, replaced by the urge to leave them right where they were and carry her to the nearest empty room to see just how attracted we both are.

But that way lies absolute disaster.

"Nope. Defenseless women have never been my type. We're done for today." I stand immediately, leaving her there, and walk to the edge of the mat to get my weapons from Imogen.

"What the hell was that?" she whispers, handing back the last of my knives.

"Aetos." I ignore her question and turn toward the squad leader across the mat, who's busy coddling Violence as usual.

His head snaps toward mine, and the anger there almost makes me smile.

"She could use a little less protection and a little more instruction." I level an accusatory look on him until he nods, then turn and walk away.

"You in the mood to spar with first-years?" Garrick asks, keeping pace with me once I'm a few steps from Second Squad, a smile tugging at his mouth. "Or just that particular first-year?"

"Sometimes I hate how fucking observant you are."

"It's hard to miss the way you look at her," he says, lowering his voice.

"Like I want to kill her?" I retort, spotting an interesting match in Claw Section.

"Or fu-"

"Don't finish that sentence when I'm in the mood to hit people." We're mutually assured destruction against each other, which makes us the perfect sparring partners, but I'm just aggravated enough to do some real damage to my best friend, despite the size he has on me.

"Oh, would you, please?" He puts his hand to his heart and grins. "I need you to use those big, strong hands to show me-"

I shove his shoulder hard enough to send him staggering sideways and keep walking out of his section and into Claw. The farther the better when it comes to Sorrengail.

Dain Aetos is dancing on my last fucking nerve. Between the petty comments he’s been making all afternoon and what I’m sure he thinks are menacing glares, I’m ready to lean over and introduce his face to the Montserrat briefing table. 

But Violence wouldn’t like that, and as satisfying as it would be to hear his nose crunch against the polished wood, I’m not about to do anything that could end this little training session early and jeopardize Imogen’s mission, should her squad realize she isn’t actually vomiting in the infirmary. 

Not that the healer will remember her ever being there, thanks to Imogen’s handy little signet. If she’s on schedule, she’ll be on her way back from delivering the drop I brought with me. The thought makes me reinforce my shields just in case Dain acts on the threat in his eyes. I’m not letting that fucker’s hands anywhere near me. 

“So all we do is wait for something to happen?” Ridoc Gamlyn asks —  by Dunne, did he just put his dirty-ass boots on the briefing table? 

“Yes,” the older Sorrengail sister answers from the head of the table to my left, then gestures with her right hand, knocking Gamlyn on his ass with lesser magic. “And keep your feet off the table.” 

The taller of the riders stationed here chuckles and updates the battle map behind Violet’s sister, but his face falls quickly, his eyes narrowing with suspicion when he catches me watching him. I scratch my neck at the top of my collar, right over my relic, and hold his gaze until he drops it. 

Shit like that is why I keep my inconvenient feelings about Violet to my damned self, no matter how good she looks today or how delectable she smells sitting next to me, like some kind of citrus that makes me want to bury my face in the side of her neck and see just how pink I can get her cheeks to flush. No, if I did that, every rider in this room would look at her differently, and not in a good way. Leave it to me to fall for the one woman on the Continent I can never fucking have. 

Still, I’d put myself right between her and Liam, ignoring his knowing little smirk, when I took the chair closest to Violet. There’s nothing going on there, but he can back the fuck up when I’m around. 

“Consider this your Battle Brief,” Mira Sorrengail lectures as Gamlyn scurries back into his chair at the foot of the table. “This morning was about a quarter of the patrol we’d regularly fly, so normally we’d just be getting back about now and reporting our findings to the commander. But for the sake of killing time, since we’re in this room as the reaction flight for this afternoon, let’s pretend we’d come across a newly fortified enemy outpost crossing our border” — she pivots to the map and marks a nearby location with a red flag —“here.” 

Aetos is too busy glaring at me to look, so I settle back into my seat and do what I do best — stare right back. 

“We’re supposed to pretend it just popped up overnight?” There’s a little snark in Emery Barnes’s tone, but I keep my attention on making Dain as uncomfortable as possible just for fun. 

“For the sake of argument, third-year,” Mira retorts. 

Dain’s hands curl into fists on the tabletop, and a corner of my mouth rises. He’s pathetically easy to rile. 

“I like this game,” the shorter of the lieutenants stationed here comments from Mira’s side. 

“What would our objective be?” Mira asks. “Aetos?” 

Dain startles and jerks his focus to the map. I win. “What type of fortifications are there? Are we talking a haphazard wooden structure? Or something more substantial?” 

At least he asks good questions. 

“Like they had time to build a fortress overnight,” Ridoc quips. “It has to be wooden, right?” 

“You are all so fucking literal.” Mira rubs at her forehead like we’re a headache she can’t kick. “Fine, let’s say they occupied a keep that’s already established. Stone and all.” 

Which means there would be civilians or possibly prisoners inside. Wide-scale dragon fire is out. Fine. Liam scouts out their defenses, then I drench the place in shadow for our assault. Half of us dismount while the other half take out the gryphons in the air, and I move in darkness below to free the prisoners while Emery directs controlled blasts of fire by air wielding, using Quinn as a scout. 

My mind runs through three other battle strategies, then stutters on a fourth as I glance in Violet’s direction and catch her lips pursing in concentration. Gods, that mouth. I dream about that mouth. Fantasize about that mouth. That kiss is burned into my memory like a relic, taunting me with what will never happen again, with what I never should have tasted in the first place. 

Mira and Quinn start arguing about the scenario’s parameters, and I force my attention back to the briefing. 

“How many of you have been called out as third-years?” Mira folds her arms. 

Emery raises his hand and I lift a couple of fingers. 

Violet’s eyebrows rise, but she stays quiet, just like she has been all afternoon. I crack open my shields just enough to sense that wispy silver bond that’s been steadily growing between the two of us—the one she hasn’t noticed yet. 

“I told you, it’s been known to happen between the riders of bonded  pairs,” Sgaeyl reminds me, annoyance sharpening her tone. 

“And has Tairn told her?” I ask, to which she doesn’t bother replying. 

Dain turns a shade that reminds me of a tomato. “That’s not correct. We’re never called into service until graduation.” 

I bite back a laugh and offer him a sarcastic thumbs-up. 

“Yeah, all right.” Emery huffs a laugh. “Just wait until next year. I can’t count how many times we’re the ones sitting in these very rooms in the midland forts because their riders have been called to the front for an emergency.” 

Aetos pales. 

If he knew half of what’s actually happening beyond the borders, he’d probably pass out. 

“Now that’s settled…” Mira sets a six-inch model of a stone keep in the center of the table. “Catch,” she warns before throwing each of us a wooden replica of a dragon. 

“Yours are better,” I whisper under my breath to Liam. 

“I know.” He grins, running his thumb over the chunky wings of the figure. 

“Pretend Messina and Exal don’t exist back there, and we’re the only squad available to take back that keep,” Mira orders. “Think of the power in this room. Think of what each individual rider brings to the table and how you’d use those powers in unison to conquer your objective.” 

“But they don’t teach that to first-years,” Liam says like he hasn’t been taught battle strategy since we were kids. Lewellen made sure of it once he took guardianship of us after the execution. 

Mira’s gaze drops to the rebellion relic on Liam’s wrist, and I lift my chin. They’d better get used to us being in rooms like this, because we’re here to stay. At least until we get Aretia’s forge up and running. 

Violet clears her throat, and Mira’s gaze shifts to her little sister, her eyes flaring before focusing back on Liam. 

My chest tightens annoyingly. Whatever look Violet shot her sister, it was obviously in our defense, and damn if that doesn’t hit me straight between the ribs. 

“They might not teach you this battle strategy as first-years because you’re all busy trying to stay on your dragons. You had your first taste of strategy during the Squad Battle, and it’s almost May, which means final War Games should be beginning, right?” 

“Two weeks,” Dain informs her like he needs to remind everyone he’s still at the table. 

“Good timing, then. Not all of you will survive the games if you’re not prepared.” Mira’s gaze lingers on Violet long enough to prick my temper. Of all the people in this room, Mira should know how capable Violet is. “This kind of thinking will give your squad — your entire wing — an advantage, since I guarantee your wingleader is already assessing every rider for their own abilities.” 

I roll the dragon figurine over my knuckles and keep my mouth shut, since I’m not supposed to be here. 

“So let’s do this.” Mira backs up, and I glance around the table, curiosity settling my attention on Aetos. “Who is in command? And let’s pretend that I don’t have three years of seniority on even the highest-ranked of you.” 

“Then I’m in command.” Aetos sits up stiffly, like someone’s called formation. 

To my credit, I don’t laugh.

“Our wingleader is here.” Liam points in my direction. “I would say that puts him in command.” 

The wispy silver bond solidifies, an emotion — pride — dancing down the pathway even though Violet doesn’t move a muscle. Holy shit, we really are connected. This could be —  

“Dangerous? Reckless? An unaffordable distraction?” Sgaeyl snaps, and I swear I hear her teeth clash. 

“Fun.” There’s no denying the bond between us when it’s shining at me like a fucking mage light. “We can pretend I’m not here, just for the sake of the exercise.” I put my figurine on the table and settle in my chair, then wrap my arm around the back of Violet’s seat and enjoy the sight of Dain grinding his teeth. “Give Aetos here the position we all know he craves.” 

His jaw flexes, and I leave my arm planted like a battle marker. The command, he can have. I’m mildly curious to see what he does with it. But that’s the only position I’m ceding to the spoiled whiner. 

“Don’t be a dick,” Violet whispers. 

“You haven’t even seen me start to be a dick.” I send the words down the bond. 

Her head whips toward mine, her lips parting as she openly gawks at me. 

It worked. My heart stumbles, and I bite back a laugh. I was wrong. This isn’t just fun, it’s instantly vital to my existence. I turn toward her, letting a corner of my mouth rise, and look straight into those hypnotic hazel eyes. “You’re staring. It’s going to get awkward in about thirty seconds if you don’t stop.” 

“How?” She spits out the whisper like an accusation. 

“The same way you talk to Sgaeyl. We’re all gloriously, annoyingly linked. This is just one of the perks. Though I’m starting to wish I’d tried it  sooner. The look on your face is priceless.” I wink and turn my attention back to the seething pot of jealousy boiling over across the table. 

“You’re. The. Wingleader.” Dain chokes out the words, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s submitting to my rank or accusing me of inappropriate behavior with a subordinate. 

Not that I give a fuck either way. If it were safe for Violet, I’d be ecstatically guilty of inappropriate behavior. Wickedly inappropriate. In my bed. In hers. On a table in the Archives. In the bathing chamber and every room with a door to lock so no one else can see what’s mine. I’d be so decadently inappropriate that her voice would turn hoarse from screaming my name every single day. 

But though she’d be the best thing that ever happened to me, I’d be the worst thing that ever happened to her. The truth of it sinks like a stone in my stomach. 

“I’m not even supposed to be here.” I shrug. “But if it makes you feel better, for the purpose of War Games, you’d be getting your orders from your section leader, Garrick Tavis, which he’d get from me. You’ll be carrying out your maneuvers as a squad for the good of the wing. Just pretend I’m another member of your squad and use me as you wish, Aetos.” I withdraw my hold on Violet’s chair and cross my arms. 

“Why are you even here?” Dain whines. “No offense, sir, but we weren’t exactly expecting senior leadership on this trip.” 

“Yes, why are you here?” Sgaeyl doesn’t disguise the mockery in her tone. 

“You’re more than aware that Sgaeyl and Tairn are mated.” My voice stays respectively level. “It was your idea to bring the daggers.” I’m careful to only speak down Sgaeyl’s bond. 

“It seemed a prudent course of action, considering your insufferable intolerance to being separated from the general’s daughter.” She huffs. 

“Three days?” Dain fires back, leaning in. “You couldn’t make it three days?” 

“Insufferable? That’s a bit far.” 

“Where’s Violet now?” she mocks. “What is she doing? Is she thinking of me? Is she missing me? Is she getting closer to Aetos? Does she dream about that kiss? How many days until Violet’s—” 

“Point fucking taken.” She’s going to be unbearable on the flight home. 

“It has nothing to do with him.” Violet slams her dragon figurine on the table. “That’s up to Tairn and Sgaeyl.” 

And there she goes again, defending me. Fuck, I love this woman. 

“You never considered that it was you I couldn’t stay away from?” I ask  her. She jabs the point of her elbow into my biceps, and I fight the upward curve of my mouth. I love that she isn’t scared of me, that she’ll call me out  in a way no one else besides Sgaeyl does. Everything she does — even blatantly elbowing me in front of her squad — turns me on. I’m fucked on every level known to man when it comes to Violet Sorrengail. “Now, now, you’ll give our little communication secret away if you can’t keep from being so… violent.” 

“Of course you rush to defend him,” Dain whines yet again. “Though how you can forget that this guy wanted to kill you six months ago is beyond me.” 

He’s not lying, but that was when I hated the idea of her, before I knew her — loved her. 

Violet stiffens. “I cannot believe you went there.” 

The hurt in her tone sets my teeth on edge. “Good job remaining professional, Aetos.” I scratch the relic on my neck to remind him exactly who the fuck I am. “Really shows those leadership qualities to their best advantage.” 

A rider stationed here whistles. “Do you boys just want to whip it out and measure? It would be faster.” 

Liam stifles what’s obviously a laugh, and I shoot him a sideways look. 

“Enough!” The table vibrates as Mira slams her hands onto the surface. 

“Oh, come on, Sorrengail,” the shorter rider on her left whines jokingly, and both Sorrengails glance his way. 

“I mean… the older Sorrengail. This is the best entertainment we’ve had in ages.” 

Violet shakes her head, clearly having had enough. “Mira has the ability to extend the shield if the wards are down, so the first thing I would do is send her to scout the area with Teine. We need to know if we’re dealing with infantry or gryphon riders.” 

Excellent point. I hadn’t considered Mira in my own calculations. 

“Good.” Mira sets her dragon close to the castle. “Now let’s assume there are gryphons.” 

“Speaking of gryphons,” I say to Sgaeyl. “Any news from Glane?” 

“Still out of range,” she replies. 

Sending Imogen an hour south, toward the Braevick border, was a calculated risk given that I hadn’t had much time to get a message to Syrena and her drift, but rendezvousing there was a far better choice than risking her being caught by Cygnis fliers. Cygnis fliers would take the daggers and then kill Imogen to make a point. Stubborn assholes. 

“You want to do your job?” Violet’s smile practically drips venomous sugar as she turns it on Dain. “I mean, how you can forget you’re the squad leader is beyond me. "

Fucking love her. 

His knuckles whiten around his figurine. “Quinn, can you astral project from the back of your dragon?” 

“Yes,” she answers. 

“Then I would have you project into the fortress to check for signs of weakness,” Dain says. “And have you report back. Same with Liam. We’d use your farsight to see if you can locate where the gryphon riders are and if there are any traps.” 

“Good. The weaknesses are the wooden gate,” Mira adds as the two cadets move their figurines, “and the Navarrian citizens they have captive in the dungeons.” 

“So much for blasting the whole place,” Ridoc mutters. 

“You’re an air wielder, right?” Dain asks Emery. “So you can shape your dragon’s flames, lead them through the occupied parts of the keep without killing civilians.” 

“Yes,” Emery answers with a nod. “But I’d have to be in the keep.” 

“Then you’ll have to get into the keep.” Mira’s shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. 

Emery’s eyes flare. “You want me to leave my dragon and go on foot?” 

“Why do you think we get all that hand-to-hand training? Or are you going to leave all those innocent people to die?” Mira flicks her wrist and Emery’s dragon goes flying up into the air. Mira catches it, then sets it in the center of the model. “The real question is, how do we get you close enough without getting you killed? Since I’m guessing the others will be busy fighting off the gryphons that launch once the fireworks start.” 

“What’s your signet, Aetos?” Quinn asks. 

“Above your pay grade,” Dain answers. 

Does he actually think that? Or is he so brainwashed by Daddy that he doesn’t see they’re going to use him as a weapon against other riders? 

He looks at every cadet except me, then sighs. “Any ideas?” 

Violet shakes her head, then says, “Sure.” She snatches my dragon and pushes it at the keep, flaring her hand so the figurine levitates above the model. I shouldn’t be impressed — it’s just lesser magic — but damn she’s sexy when she takes charge. “You stop ignoring that you have an incredibly powerful shadow wielder at your disposal and ask him to black out the area so no one sees you land.” 

Spot-on.

“She’s not wrong.” Mira bites the words out. 

“You can do that?” Aetos slowly looks in my direction. 

“Are you seriously asking?” I reach for Sgaeyl’s power, and it pours into my veins. 

“Just wasn’t sure you could cover an area that —” 

I lift my palms just enough to clear the table and summon the cooling darkness of the shadows. They stream out from under the table and blanket the room in less than a heartbeat, devouring all traces of light. 

Panic skitters down the silver bond. 

“Relax. It’s just me.” I crook a finger, and a strand of shadow solidifies to skim along Violet’s cheek. 

“Fuck me,” a rider to the left says. 

“I can surround this entire outpost, but I think that might freak some people out.” I close my hands, and the shadows jolt back to natural state, letting light pour in through the windows. Damn, that was fun. It was even worth the threat assessment I’m getting from Mira. Violet tenses like she spotted it, too. “I hope you didn’t get any ideas while we were in the dark  there.” 

She lifts her middle finger without even looking my way, and a laugh sneaks past my lips as Mira leads us through the rest of the exercise. 

“Good job,” Mira finally says, checking the time. “Aetos, Riorson, and Sorrengail, I want to see you in the hallway. The rest of you are dismissed.” 

This should be fun. 

She leads the way, then shuts the door behind us once we’re in the staircase and throws a blue wave of energy over the doorway. It’s an interesting use of power, when I’m more than capable of constructing a colorless one for the sake of privacy. 

“Sound shield.” Dain smiles. “Nice.” 

What a suck-up. 

“Shut up.” Mira pivots a few steps above me, one above Violet, and shoves a finger in Aetos’s face. “I don’t know what bug has crawled up your ass, Dain Aetos, but have you forgotten that you’re a squad leader? That you have a very real chance of becoming a wingleader next year?” 

Gods help every cadet if that  happens. 

Violet retreats a step in my direction, and my brow furrows. Sibling dynamics are something I’ll never understand. 

“Mira—” Aetos begins. 

“Lieutenant Sorrengail,” Mira interrupts. “You’re blowing it, Dain. I know how badly you want his job next year.” She swings that finger toward me. “Don’t forget that we’ve grown up about ten feet apart. And you are blowing it, because what? You’re pissed that Violet bonded his dragon’s mate?” 

Harsh, but I respect her candor. 

“He is the worst possible thing for her!” Dain raises his voice. 

Huh. Guess we actually agree on something. 

“Oh, I’m not arguing that.” Mira invades his space. “But there’s nothing anyone can do about the choices of dragons. They don’t bother with the opinions of mere humans, do they? But whatever is going on between the two of you” — her finger flies between Violet and Aetos — “is fucking up your squad. If I can see it after four days with you, then they sure as hell can tell. And if I’d known that you were going to be such a hard-ass with zero flexibility for the things she can’t control, I never would have told her to find you after crossing the parapet. You two have been best friends since you were five years old. Figure your shit out.” That last part is directed at them both. 

Dain stiffens, then looks Violet’s way and nods, which she returns. 

An irrational, ugly feeling sours my stomach. They have the kind of history that lingers, the kind that has me really contemplating the word “jealousy.” 

“Glane approaches from the south,” Sgaeyl tells me. “They were successful.” 

“Thank you .” Now to get Imogen to the infirmary, and no one will realize she’d even been missing. 

“Good, now get back in there.” Mira nods toward the door, and Dain departs, heading through the shield. “And as for you.” She descends two stairs and narrows her eyes on me. “Is this what she can expect next year?” 

“Aetos being an asshole?” I keep my hands off my weapons. Killing Mira might appease the burning need for revenge I’ve learned to live with, but it’s not worth upsetting Violet or dealing with the oldest Sorrengail sibling, either. “Probably.” 

Mira glares at me, and the resemblance to her mother is uncanny. “Mated dragons typically bond riders in the same year for a reason. You cannot expect your assigned wing or her instructors to let you both fly off every three days.” 

“Wasn’t my choice.” I shrug. Lying is easy, except when it comes to Violet. I haven’t quite figured that one out yet. 

“What are we supposed to do? Tell the giant, flame-throwing dragons how it’s going to be?” Violet questions. 

“Yes!” Mira shouts, facing her sister. “Because you can’t live this way, Violet. You’ll be the one who ends up missing the training you need, because he’s the more powerful of the two of you right now. But if you don’t get to focus on your training, then that’s how it will always be. You won’t ever become who Tairn can push you to be. Is that what you’re after, Riorson?” 

My gut twists with anger, and power rushes through me. Fuck it, Violet would get over her sister’s death eventually. 

“Mira,” Violet whispers and shakes her head. “You’re wrong about him.” 

Only in some ways. The beating organ behind my ribs soothes the anger, and my power recedes. 

“Listen to me.” Mira grabs Violet’s shoulders. “He might wield shadows, Violet, but give him his way, and you’ll become one.” 

And the power races back in, shadows pulsing at the edges of the stairwell. I’m the one pushing Violet instead of babying her. If Aetos had his way, she’d be smothered in cream robes. 

“That won’t happen,” Violet vows. 

“It will if he has anything to say about it.” Mira pins a look on me that I don’t appreciate. “Killing someone isn’t the only way to destroy them. Keeping you from reaching your potential seems like a great path to the retribution he swore against our mother. Think long and hard. How well do you even really know him?” 

Violet’s swift intake of breath slices like a knife to my side. 

“That’s what I thought.” Mira’s expression softens, and I wait to see if she’s going to take the Dain route. “Do you even know why he hates our mother so much? Why the kids like him are put on the para —” 

Oh, fuck no, she isn’t ready to hear half  of what their mother did to me. 

“I’m right here.” I step up to Violet’s side. “In case you didn’t notice.” 

“You’re kind of hard to miss,” Mira counters. 

“You’re not listening.” I hold her accusing stare and lower my voice. “I. Am. Here. Tairn didn’t drag her back to Basgiath. He didn’t break through her shields and pour his emotions into her. He didn’t demand she fly across the fucking kingdom. Your sister is still right here. I’m the one who left my post,my position, and my executive officer in charge of my wing. She’s not missing out on shit.” The truth of the words stings. I might be accomplishing a very risky run, but Sgaeyl is right. We’re here because I couldn’t concentrate for shit knowing that Violet was this close to the border. I chose Violet over my wing. 

“And next year? When you’re a brand-new lieutenant? What shit  is she going to miss out on then?” Mira asks. 

Yeah, fuck if I know. At this rate, they’ll have to station me at Basgiath if I can’t get my shit under control and get over —  

“Love isn’t something you get over,” Sgaeyl reminds me. “Why do you think I flew you all the way out here?” 

“To mock me while cavorting with your mate.” 

“I didn’t say it wasn’t without its perks.” 

“We’ll figure it out.” Violet grabs Mira’s hand. “Mira, he’s taken every spare minute he has to train me on the mat for challenges or take me flying in hopes I’ll finally figure out how to keep my damned seat without Tairn holding me in place. He’s —” 

Mira flinches. “You can’t keep your seat?” 

Oh shit. 

“No.” Violet’s voice drops to a whisper. 

“How the hell can you not?” Mira’s jaw drops. 

Fuck. What are the rules when it comes to interfering with sisters? Am I supposed to step in? Let Violet handle it? Lewellen let Liam and me beat the shit out of each other when we fought, but I’m not sure that’s the right approach here. I’m also not about to infantilize Violet when her sister is doing a damned good job of it herself. 

“Because I’m not you!” Violet shouts. 

Mira jolts backward. “But you… you look so much stronger now.” 

“My joints and muscles are stronger because Imogen makes me lift these horrible weights, but that doesn’t…~fix me.” Violet’s shoulders drop, and shadows pulse at the edges of the steps. 

The color fades from Mira’s face. “No. I didn’t mean it like that, Vi. You’re not anything that needs to be fixed. I just didn’t know you couldn’t hold your seat. Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Because there’s nothing you can do about it.” Violet’s smile is anything but happy. “There’s nothing anyone can do about the way I’m made.” 

The way she’s made? She’s fucking perfect. Everything about her is what makes her… Violet. 

When the silence grows awkward, my power ebbs. “She’s getting better,” I tell Mira, just to get her off Violet’s back. “The first few weeks were… disastrous.” 

“Hey, he caught me before I hit the ground.” Violet shoots me a not  helpful look. 

“Barely,” I admit, then rip my gaze from Violet to face down her sister. “You don’t have to trust me —” 

“Good, because I don’t,” she says. “All of that power in the hands of someone with your history is bad enough, but to know your dragons are so tangled up that you can’t be more than three days from Violet is unacceptable in every possible way I can think—” She freezes, her eyes going unfocused. 

Unnatural quiet falls and unease ripples down my spine at the lack of the steady, quiet hum of background noise that always accompanies proximity to stored power. My stomach clenches. The wards are down.  

“Drift incoming from the east!” Sgaeyl snarls. 

“Let me guess. They’re not friendly?” My gaze shoots to the top of the steps. I can have Violet on the ramparts in thirty seconds or less. 

“Definitely not.” 

“Fuck! The wards are down.” Mira grabs Violet into a hug. “You have to go.” 

“We can help!” Violet’s voice pitches toward panic. 

“Is this us?” Wards will only fall this quickly if the power supply is compromised… or stolen. 

“No.” 

Which means we have enemies within the keep already. 

“You can’t.” Mira’s voice cuts like steel. “And if Tairn is using his power to keep you seated, then he’s diminished as well. You have to go. Get out of here. If you love me, Violet, you’ll go so I don’t have to worry about you, too.” 

“Western rampart.” Violet needs to be airborne now. 

“Where do you think we’re already headed?” Sgaeyl snaps. “And you’d better be there with her.” 

The squad races out of the briefing room and hurries down the steps as Mira releases Violet and pins me with a look that’s equal parts order and desperation. “Get her out of here.” 

My head rears back. Did she just tell me to go withher? Fuck that. 

“Let’s go!” Aetos yells. “Now!” 

“Even if you don’t trust me, I’m the best weapon you have,” I remind Mira in a less-than-amiable tone. 

“If what you say is true, then you’re the best weapon she has. The other half of the squad will be here in moments, and Teine thinks we have about twenty minutes until the gryphons arrive.” Her expression shifts to a quick but blatant plea before turning to her sister. “You have to get to safety, Violet. I love you. Don’t die. I’d hate to be an only child.” 

“I can get Violet out and track down whoever brought down the wards—” 

“If you stay, so will she,” Sgaeyl growls. “And need I remind you what  happens to us all if she’s killed while you’re off proving your acumen?” 

Fuck. Every instinct but one demands I fight, but it’s that lone, sharply insistent slice of intuition screaming to keep Violet safe above all else that quickly conquers every other impulse. I breathe in sharply, then exhale pure frustration, mentally shifting to a new plan as I whip my arm around Violet’s waist and pull her against my side. 

She flat-out fightsme as Mira sprints up the stairs to the roof. 

“No!” Violet throws her body weight against my grip, but I hold fast. “Mira! What if you get hurt? Tairn’s speed could be the only thing that saves you. At least let us stay.” 

Mira pivots at the doorway to face us. “You want me to trust you, Riorson? Get her the fuck out of here and find a way for her to keep her seat. We both know she’s dead if she doesn’t.” 

I nod, then shift my grip on Violet’s waist, locking my elbow around the delicate curve, and haul her ass down the stairs. 

“Mira!” Violet rakes her nails along my forearm. “I love you!” she screams over her shoulder. 

Her cry rips into my very soul, but I’m not risking her life, even for her sister. Shadows race ahead of us, pouring over the steps. If anyone is coming up this direction, I’ll know before they so much as see us. 

“Close yet?” I ask Sgaeyl as we turn the curve into the barrack’s hall. 

“Not quite. Glane has rerouted as well.” 

Good. Gives us enough time for me to get my pack. If anyone finds the alloy-hilted dagger I keep stored there, I’m fucked. 

“Can I trust you to get your own pack?” I ask Violet, setting her on her feet. “Or am I going to have to carry you out of here without whatever you brought?” 

“I’ll get it myself.” She pushes at me, and I release my grip. 

Two seconds later, she slams the door to the room she shares with Matthias in my face, and I head into mine just down the hall, finding Liam standing with his arms folded in the center of my room, his pack strapped to his back. 

“Was it us?” he says. It’s more accusation than question. 

“No.” I shove what few belongings I brought into my pack. 

“Was it us?” He shouts this time, standing in my way when I turn for the door, like he could actually stop me from leaving if he wanted to. 

“No,” I repeat, looking him straight in the eye. “I already asked Sgaeyl; we have no operations in the area —” 

“Except what Imogen pulled off today,” he retorts, his hands clenching. 

My jaw flexes. “This wasn’t us, Liam. You know I’d never risk civilian casualties by taking down an entire outpost. Imogen carried two dozen daggers across the border, but even that amount of power wouldn’t be enough to affect an outage like this.” I sheathe my swords in the scabbards sewn into my pack, then swing it onto my back. 

Liam’s shoulders dip. “This isn’t on us.” 

“No.” I shake my head, then clasp his shoulder. “Get to the roof. We need to mount.” 

He nods. “I’ll get Vi —” 

“I’ve got her.” I drop my hand and walk past him, swinging open the door to the hallway. “She’s not exactly in favor of leaving. Now, go.” 

We split at the hallway, and Violet keeps me waiting less than a minute before barreling through her door carrying two packs and avoiding my gaze as she marches toward the door that leads to the courtyard. 

I catch her elbow and spin her to face the correct direction. “Nope. It’s too dangerous to leave the fortress walls. We’re going up.” I hook my arm around her waist before she can even think about fighting me, then carry her to the crowded stairwell before setting her down. “Climb.” 

“This is bullshit!” Her cheeks flush as she narrows her eyes on me, members of her squad pushing past. “Tairn could help them!” 

And she could die in the process. My resolve hardens to stone. “Your sister is right. You have to make it out, so we’re leaving. Now fucking climb.” Or so help me, Dunne, I will throw her over my damned shoulder right in front of everyone. 

“Dain.” Her gaze swings to the squad leader just ahead of us like he’s any fucking use right now. 

He takes Matthias’s pack from Violet. “For once, Riorson and I agree. It’s not just you we have to get out, Violet. Think of every other first-year. Are you going to sentence an entire untrained squad to death?” He starts climbing and, lucky for me, Violet follows. “Because I’ll make it. Cianna, Emery, and Heaton will, too. And we all fucking know Riorson will. But what about Rhiannon? Ridoc? Sawyer? You want their deaths on your hands?” 

Is it just me or is he already out of breath as we climb through the third floor and out onto the roof? 

Emery mounts ahead of us on the annoyingly narrow rampart. The design is great for preventing fliers from doing the same, but it’s not doing us any favors at the moment. 

“Ridoc and Quinn are already in the air,” Liam announces, watching Emery launch on his brown clubtail. 

I spot Deigh next to Cath, hovering with shallow beats of their wings. 

“You’re next!” I order Liam, and thankfully for our time’s sake, Dain agrees, which means I don’t have to kill him. 

Chunks of masonry tumble to the bailey below as Deigh lands, and Liam wastes no time, taking the rampart at a run just like we’d practiced hundreds of times in Lewellen. 

“You next, Aetos.” My gaze rakes the sky for any sign of Tairn. 

“Coming behind you,” the surly behemoth deigns to speak to me. “She’s not going to like the method.” 

“Vi—” Aetos has the nerve to object. 

“That’s an order.” Just because I loathe the simpering daddy’s boy doesn’t mean I want  to be responsible for the death of a younger cadet. Plus, I can’t afford Aetos Senior making my life hell. “I’ve got her. Go.” 

“Go,” Violet pleads. 

Aetos turns my way and offers me his best impression of a threatening glare. “I’m trusting you to get her out.” 

I don’t have time for this bullshit. “There’s a lot of that going around today,” I snap. “Now get on your dragon so I can get her on hers.” 

He heads down the rampart toward Cath, but he’s nowhere as fast as Liam. 

“What method isn’t she going to like?” I ask Tairn, choosing the pathway that excludes Violet the same way he had. 

“I’m going to have to…” He pauses, and I note Violet scanning the sky above us. “Scoop her up. It won’t be her most dignified moment.” 

Oh, she’s going to lovethat. 

“I can’t do this.” Violet twists in my grip, turning those hazel eyes on me. “The others are gone. Call it the favor you owe me, I don’t care. We can stay. I can’t just leave her here. It’s wrong, and it’s something she’d never do to me. I have to stay for her. I just have to.” 

Fuck. I get it. I really do. Liam and Bodhi are the closest things I have to siblings, and I wouldn’t leave with their lives on the line, either. But this isn’t Liam. Or Bodhi. It’s her. And we aren’t at Basgiath. That approaching drift—and whoever is responsible for compromising the power supply for the wards—will kill her if given the chance, and that’s not something I’ll ever let happen. 

But damn, her courage has me tripping over my feelings for her. 

“Approaching,” Sgaeyl informs me. 

“Not fast enough.” 

Violet isn’t going to leave of her own accord; I can see it in her eyes, feel it in the tense lines of her back. I drop my shields and her emotions hurtle down the bond. Determination. Fear —  

She’s going to bolt. 

And there’s only one way to stop her. I lift my hands from her waist to the velvet-soft skin of her cheeks, memorizing every color in her eyes as I cup the back of her neck, preparing to commit what she’ll think is an unforgivable sin. 

I kiss her. It’s hard and raw, wild and desperate, and the way she opens for me, kissing me back with abandon, nearly takes me out at the knees. Gods, I’ll never get enough of this woman. Her mind. Her tenacity. Her mouth. 

I kiss her like this might be the last time she’ll let me, like this is an alternate reality and there’s a chance she could love me back. 

I kiss her like she’s mine.

It’s a stolen moment—it can never be anything more—but it’s ours. 

Wingbeats approach and I ignore them, stroking my tongue against hers again and again, keeping my hands at the nape of her neck by sheer force of will, denying the urge to explore every curve, every hollow of her tight body. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want her, never craved a woman’s laugh as much as her touch, or needed her trust more than my next breath. Only Violet. 

I tear my mouth away, the steady pulses of wings undeniable as Tairn and Sgaeyl approach. Wind gusts, catching the loosened strands of her hair as I lean my forehead against hers. “Leave for me, Violet.” 

She stiffens, accusation filling her eyes so quickly that I know she’s figured out that I just used our attraction to distract her. “I will hate you for this.” 

Ouch. 

“Yeah.” I nod, accepting the consequences of my actions. “I can live with that.” I can live with anything as long as she’s still breathing, so I drop my hands to her arms and force them out at her sides. “Arms up. Hold tight.” 

“Fuck. You.” She hisses out the words as a shadow falls over us, and I hit the floor, catching myself with my hands as a black claw fills the space I  just occupied, hooking Violet’s arms and snatching her into the sky. 

“She’ll never forgive me,” I tell Sgaeyl as she lands on the narrow perch ahead of me. “Especially if something happens to her sister.” 

She tilts her head, staring at me with typical impatience as I launch to my feet and sprint down the rampart toward her. We’re airborne in seconds, her wings pummeling the air before I even reach the seat. “If she can’t  forgive you for the least of your transgressions, then she doesn’t deserve  you.” 

“I don’t think she’ll see it that way.” I get a good grip on her scales and settle in for the flight. 

“Then you’d better start praying to your gods that her sister survives.”