Though fliers only wield lesser magics, in my vast experience with the Northern Wing, they are formidable opponents in both mindwork and hand-to-hand. Take heed, younger riders: do not unseat against them unless forced to do so.
—Tactics part II, A Personal Memoir by Lieutenant Lyron Panchek
“Absolutely not,” Xaden responds before Kaori leads him away, but there’s a slight roaring in my ears as Devera goes over the changes to our academic schedule and how we’ll be paired for Xaden’s new class, which she labels Signet Sparring.
We’re dismissed a few minutes later.
I’m fine. This is fine. I’ll think about it later. For now I stay focused on the goal directly in front of me, who happens to be halfway down the hall by the time I file out of Battle Brief with the rest of my squad.
“You don’t look happy,” Rhi notices, shooting me a sideways glance. “Why? You two will get to see each other all the time now.”
“Sure.” My nod is a little forced. “Every time we have class.” I bounce up on my toes, but I’m still too short to see past the crowd of cadets. “I need to catch up to Dain.”
“Dain? Xaden shows up and you’re talking to Dain?” Rhi puts the back of her hand to my forehead. “Just making sure you’re not running a fever.”
“After that announcement, I’m not really sure I can handle seeing Xaden right now, to be honest,” I tell her quietly so Cat doesn’t hear. Gods, she’s going to gloat over this. “And I haven’t seen Dain in days. I need to ask him…” I lift my brows.
“Right.” She nods as we pass two third-year classrooms, then peers ahead. “He’s in Professor Kaori’s office doorway, talking to Bodhi. You going to tell me what’s going on with Riorson?”
“Thanks. Article Eight, Section One, Code of Conduct.” I speed ahead, weaving through the river of cadets.
“Ouch. Don’t be late to flight tactics!” she calls after me.
To my relief, Dain hasn’t moved by the time I reach the deep arch of Kaori’s doorway and step out of the current so I don’t hold anyone up or get trampled.
Dain glances my way, then gives me his full attention, leaning up against the closed door and making room for me. “Vi?”
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but you’ve been at midland posts for days and I need to talk to you.” I adjust the straps of my pack on my sore shoulders. Imogen has been relentless with the workouts this week, and my solo wielding sessions are taking a toll on my arms, too.
“You’re not interrupting,” Dain assures me. “We’re just figuring out the flight field scheduling issue.”
Bodhi glances between us. “Need some privacy?”
“Not from you.” I shake my head.
“Ah.” He gestures to his spot, and I swap places with him as he puts his back to the crowd. “That should be a little quieter for you.”
“What’s going on?” Dain asks, lowering his voice.
I push aside any lingering apprehension. This might be my only shot. “I need your help, and I know it’s asking a lot, so I’m just going to lay it out there and then give you some time to decide.” The hall empties gradually behind Bodhi.
“That sounds ominous.” Dain searches my eyes. “Are you in trouble?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I need something my father left in my parents’ quarters before he died. It’s nothing that needed to be burned or anything like that.”
“Research?” Dain guesses, his expression softening.
I nod. “It’s…hidden, and the quarters of Basgiath’s commanding general are warded so only their line, by blood or marriage, can pass through, and now that bloodline is no longer mine.”
“Right.” His throat works. “You’d be better off asking my father yourself. I’m not exactly his favorite person at the moment.” He blinks, quickly masking the pain that flashes through his eyes. “He’s just a few rooms down with Panchek right now.”
“I’m more concerned that he might not give it to me,” I say slowly. “He mentioned last year that he wanted it, and I’m scared he’ll keep it for himself, or that he or Markham will redact the information.”
Dain folds his arms. “So you want me to help you steal it.”
“Yes.” There’s no point in lying.
“Not sure he really considers me part of the bloodline—” Dain starts, but then the door opens behind him.
“Well, that didn’t take you long,” Kaori says with a laugh, then looks over his shoulder. “I don’t think they’re here for me.” He turns back to us. “Make it quick, cadets. He has a meeting to attend in about ten minutes. Now, if you’ll excuse me?”
We part, and Professor Kaori heads into the empty hall.
“Professor Riorson.” Dain’s tone isn’t exactly respectful as Xaden fills the doorway.
My pulse leaps and I drink in the sight of him, stubbled cheeks, full lips, and gorgeous eyes. There’s no hint of red to be seen.
“Violet.” Xaden ignores Dain and his cousin, his voice sliding over my skin like velvet. “A word in private?”
“Not a good idea.” I shake my head slowly.
“I’m certain I’ve had worse ones.” He holds out his hand.
“You’re now a professor.” Clutching the straps of my pack keeps me from reaching for him. “I’m a cadet.”
“And?” Xaden glowers at me.
“Oh shit,” Dain says quietly. “Article Eight, Section One of the Code of Conduct.”
“Wait. You two broke up?” Bodhi’s voice rises.
“Yes,” I answer.
“No,” Xaden says at the same time, glaring at his cousin, then jerking his gaze to mine. “No,” he repeats.
“I mean…if you’re our new professor, then the Code applies. At least for as long as you hold the position,” Dain muses. “And I can’t think of a single piece of Codex that overrides it.”
“No one asked you, Aetos,” Xaden warns.
“Don’t blame me. I didn’t write the Code.” Dain backs into the hall with his hands up. “Nor did I accept the job.”
Xaden tenses.
“Well, I have class, so good luck handling this one.” Bodhi hurries after Dain.
Xaden waits half a second before grabbing the right strap of my pack and tugging me into Kaori’s room. So much for getting to class on time.
He lets me go and closes the door behind us.
“Garrick didn’t come with you?” As stalling tactics come, it’s a lazy one, but it’s all I have as I retreat toward Kaori’s desk, avoiding the two chairs sitting in front of it. The office is one of the bigger ones, boasting two arched windows and a built-in bookcase with tomes stacked haphazardly to fill every possible inch.
“Considering he was dangerously close to my side when I lost control, we decided the babysitting program wasn’t as effective as we’d hoped.” Xaden leans against the wall to the left of the door, his shoulder resting along the frame of a painted rendering of the First Six’s dragons.
But not seven.
“You’re here now, so it won’t happen again.” I brace my palms on the desk and jump to sit on its edge. “I made myself a promise that I would do anything to save you, to cure you, so if that means we can’t be—”
“Do not finish that sentence.” He walks my way, and my heartbeat increases with every step he takes. “You’re already the deadliest here, so it’s not like I have to worry about grading you fairly. This changes nothing.”
“We live by the Codex—” I try again.
“I live by you. When have I ever given a fuck about the Codex or the Code of Conduct?” He cradles my face and leans down, resting his forehead against mine. “I am yours and you are mine, and there’s no law or rule in this world or the next that will change that.”
My eyes slide shut, like that might stop my heart from falling even harder for this man. “So what do we do?”
“Kaori thinks we can get an exemption. I just have to ask Panchek here in a few minutes.” His thumbs graze my cheeks, and I slowly open my eyes, clinging to the hope that he might be right. That it could just be that easy.
“No matter what, we have to keep you here. You were only on the border for a week.” And look what happened. I don’t have to say what we’re both thinking.
“I know.” He lifts his head. “And the worst part is I don’t even remember reaching for the source or taking the power during the battle. It was simply there. If Sgaeyl hadn’t…” His chest rises with a deep breath. “She spoke to me for the first time—‘yelled’ is a more accurate term—and I snapped out of it, but the damage was done. I let you down.”
“You didn’t.” I clasp his wrists. “We’ll figure this out. And if Panchek agrees to the exemption, I have a few things I need to catch you up on.”
He nods. “I’ll meet you in your room—”
The door opens, and I drop my hands, but Xaden doesn’t move an inch.
“Ah, Professor Riorson,” Aetos says from the doorway. “Kaori mentioned you might be in here, so I thought I’d handle the awkward business of you inevitably asking for an exemption to the Code of Conduct so you don’t embarrass yourself in front of Colonel Panchek.”
My stomach dips. I don’t need Melgren’s signet to know this battle isn’t going to go our way.
“General Aetos.” Xaden’s hands slide from my cheeks in a slow caress, and then he turns to face the commander. “I’m formally requesting an exemption in regard to Article Eight, Section One, on the grounds that this is a previously existing relationship and the post is temporary.”
“Denied,” Aetos responds without sparing a second. “I’ll obey Melgren’s order and give you the position, even though I think there are riders better suited for it, but make no mistake, Riorson, I don’t want you here. Pardon or no pardon, title or not, I won’t forget that you murdered the vice commandant in cold blood a few short months ago and ripped this institution apart. Your attachment to Cadet Sorrengail gives me the perfect excuse to kick you off my campus, and I will joyfully take it should you break the Code of Conduct, Professor. It may be General Melgren’s army, but it’s my school. Do you understand?”
Gods, I fucking hate him.
“That you’re an asshole? Absolutely.” Xaden holds up his finger. “And insulting you isn’t against the Code of Conduct. I checked.”
Aetos flushes scarlet and snaps a glare in my direction. “Farewells are over. Get to class, cadet.”
“Nothing changes. We just do what we’re best at,” Xaden says.
“Steal half the quadrant’s riot and run for Aretia?” I slide off the desk, anger stirring my power to a simmer.
“No, smart-ass. Sneak around. At least for now.”
“For now,” I agree as General Aetos clears the doorway just in time for me to pass through. “Just so you know who to hate,” I say over my shoulder once I’m in the hall, “Xaden didn’t kill Varrish. I did.”
Aetos stiffens and his eyes bulge as Dain steps out of the shadowy archway directly across the hall.
“Come on, Violet. I’ll walk you to class.” Dain looks at his father like the man has abandoned his dragon to die on the battlefield.
We walk silently until we reach the stairwell.
“The blame isn’t solely yours. You struck the final blow, but we both know I killed Varrish,” Dain says quietly as we descend to the third floor. “You could have told him, maybe used the information to help you get that exemption.”
“And how would that help you?”
“Oh, I’m beyond help when it comes to my father.” He huffs out a miserable laugh. “And my father is clearly just…beyond help in general.”
“Dain,” I whisper, hating that he looks like how I felt about my mother last year.
“He’ll be in Calldyr next weekend.” Dain nods as if making a choice. “We’ll get your father’s research then.”
It feels like anything but a victory.
• • •
The next Monday, I contemplate slamming my head against the twelve-person table that fills what Mom had called the “planning chamber” on the second floor of the administration building. It would probably be a better use of my time than listening to Captain Grady and Lieutenant—shit, I’ve already forgotten his name—argue about possible locations to search in front of the map of the Continent that hangs between the two windows.
My favorite part of the map? The hand-drawn, shapeless blobs that are supposed to represent the isle kingdoms to the south and east. It’s taken me exactly three minutes of this “meeting” to decide that no one knows what the fuck we’re doing.
Jesinia has rolled her eyes twice from the left end of the table, where she sits with a stack of books, quill, and parchment, keeping record of the meeting and who’s now officially been chosen for the mission.
“Please tell me you’re almost here,” I say to Xaden as the shadowy bond between us strengthens with proximity.
“Climbing the stairs,” he replies.
“Northward is obviously the answer.” Grady signs simultaneously as he speaks, just as everyone has since the beginning of the meeting, then scratches a beard that isn’t as neatly trimmed as he usually keeps it.
“Yes, we should absolutely venture into undiscovered territory,” Captain Anna Winshire mutters sarcastically in the seat to my right. She’s a talkative infantry captain with strawberry-blond hair, quick brown eyes, and serrated blades strapped to both her shoulders, but other than the myriad of ribboned awards for valor sewn onto her uniform, I can’t figure out why she’s been chosen for the squad.
In fact, I can’t figure out why any of them have. There are at least three older riders I’ve just met for the first time sitting across from me, and the one I already know—Aura—is as far away as possible on the right side, closest to the map. But at least Halden isn’t here, and he wasn’t on the draft roster, either, which is a relief. Maybe they’ve decided against a royal representative after all.
Grady’s still arguing with his team. “North is—”
The door swings open at my left, and Xaden steps in.
Every head turns in his direction, but mine whips fastest. The last four days have felt like an eternity. Being close to him without having the kind of access I’m used to is frustrating as hell. I’m constantly aware of where he is when his shields are down, and even when they’re up, I find myself looking around every corner in hopes there’s something more to the shadows.
With Xaden sleeping in the professors’ quarters, turns out that sneaking around isn’t just hard, it’s impossible. There’s a Navarrian rider watching everywhere I go.
The library? Ewan Faber has one convenient eye on the squad.
The dormitory? Aura finds a sudden interest in late-night hall patrols.
Going to visit Sawyer? Caroline Ashton and her minions trail along behind.
“This is a closed meeting,” Lieutenant Forgot-his-name says, drawing his dimpled chin back in indignation.
“I forgive you for failing to invite me,” Xaden replies, sinking into the chair on my left.
I bite back a smile. He might think he’s changed, but that comment is undeniably him.
“We’re not taking a separatist—” the lieutenant starts to argue, his hands moving almost violently as he signs.
“You already are,” I interrupt with a sweet smile.
Jesinia tucks her chin into her robes, and I know she’s muffling a laugh.
“We can waste time arguing,” Xaden says, “or we can just agree that Tairn isn’t going anywhere without Sgaeyl and move on.”
Quill scratches across parchment as Jesinia quickly takes notes, but there’s a definite smirk on her mouth still.
Captain Grady’s jaw flexes, but I have to respect that it’s his only outward display of annoyance. Anyone with a set of bars on their shoulders should have predicted this, but I’m curious to see how he’ll handle it considering how illogically our squad has been formed. “Fine,” he finally says. “Cadet Neilwart, please add his name to our roster.” He glances down the table. “Everyone here has been chosen for this mission because I trust them. Make your introductions if you haven’t,” he orders the others, then turns to look at the map.
“Captain Henson,” the woman with tightly woven black braids to his right replies, nodding. “Air wielder.”
“Lieutenant Pugh.” The next man narrows his pale blue eyes. “Farsight.”
“Lieutenant Foley.” Ah, that’s his name. “Agrarian.”
“Cadet Beinhaven.” Aura lifts her chin. “Fire wielder.”
“Lieutenant Winshire.” Anna smiles. “Infantry liaison.”
“Lieutenant Riorson,” Xaden replies. “It’s like he pulled a list of the most common signets and started choosing names.”
“And there are no fliers or Aretian riders.” I fiddle with my pen. “Doesn’t exactly speak to the spirit of alliance.”
“Why no shield signets?” Xaden asks. “Clearly we’ll be out beyond the wards, unless you think there’s an entire den hiding within Navarre’s borders that the Empyrean doesn’t know about.”
“You were able to hide one,” Foley snaps.
“Thinking the Empyrean wasn’t aware for six years tells me all I need to know about where your and your dragon’s priorities are.” Xaden shrugs.
“Stop,” Grady orders. “And I’ve asked General Tinery for a particular shield wielder. Just waiting on a response.”
Xaden’s brow knits for a millisecond, just long enough to let me know he’s digging around people’s intentions. “You could just ask me. Mira Sorrengail is the only rider proven beyond the wards, and she’s stationed in Aretia.”
I grip the pen. Mira had been my first choice in this mission to begin with…if they’d asked me.
“Which is the Southern Wing and clearly under the command of General Tinery.” Pugh glowers at Xaden.
“Except for Tyrrendor,” Xaden replies, “which as of the Second Aretia Accord now falls to the reigning house.” He cocks his head to the side. “Well, really Ulices and Kylynn, but they answer to me.”
Quill rasping against parchment is the only sound as some jaws are picked up off the floor and others lock.
I sit back in my chair and fight the urge to smile. “Have to say, the casual flex of power is pretty hot.”
“Don’t,” he warns. “I’m barely keeping my hands to myself as it is. If you knew how often I think about sneaking into your room…”
My pulse quickens.
“Is this what I can expect, Lieutenant Riorson?” Grady asks, color rising in his neck. “You pulling title into military matters? There’s a reason aristocrats don’t wear black.”
“Happens more often than you think,” I mutter, signing it discreetly to my friend.
Jesinia lifts the quill and doesn’t record my smart-ass remark, but she definitely fights off a laugh.
“Depends on how those matters are handled,” Xaden threatens, his hand motions sharpening as he signs and his tone slipping into that dangerous calm that makes the lieutenants across from us shift in their seats and my gaze flicker his way.
The hair rises on the back of my neck. There’s a flash of something…cold in his eyes, but it’s gone with a single blink. Huh.
“You and I are going to have problems,” Captain Grady warns.
“Probably.” Xaden nods.
Grady breathes deeply as the flush creeps to his jawline. “As we were saying. We’ve been given six months to find the seventh breed. The Senarium has ordered that we report back between searching potential sites to keep them informed—”
“What a fucking waste of time,” Xaden says.
“—which means selecting our first search areas within easy flight,” Grady continues.
“Just wait, it gets better.” I pick up my pen and roll it between my forefingers and thumb to keep myself busy. “I miss your hands.”
“Same.” He keeps his eyes on the map, but a band of shadow curls up my leg beneath the table and wraps around my upper thigh. “And your mouth, especially if that’s all I’m allowing myself.”
It’s on the tip of my mental tongue to tell him he doesn’t have to limit himself, but I’m sure drawing more power from the earth on his last mission isn’t exactly evoking confidence in his self-control.
“And I’ve chosen to begin along the northward coastline,” Captain Grady finishes.
Xaden’s brows hit the ceiling.
“Told you it got better.”
Captain Henson drums her fingers on the table. “Why?”
Grady clears his throat. “Basing our operation at the coastline gives us access to magic. Plus, the Emerald Sea is largely unexplored—”
“Because sailors don’t return from the deepest waters,” Henson retorts, then looks my way. “Where would your dragon like to search?”
“Cadet Sorrengail isn’t in charge,” Aura interrupts.
“You’re only here because I chose not to kill you for going after my wingleader,” I reply. “This is a mistake. The only people I trust in this room are you and Jesinia, and she’s reporting the missions after we return, not going on them.”
“Agreed.” Shadows swirl along the base of the wall. “Mira should add some balance, but not enough.”
“The last known communication we have with any isle kingdom is Deverelli,” I say into the awkward silence. “From what I’ve read, the merchant isle trades in more than goods. If there’s information to be had there, we can buy it for the right price. We should search all possible avenues, not just the north.”
Jesinia subtly nods as she records what I’ve suggested.
Everyone across from us starts speaking at once.
“They’ll kill us if we go there.”
“Splitting our forces weakens the squad.”
“Dragon-haters, all of them.”
“If the dragons were on the isles, one of them would have bragged.”
“Or used them in an assault,” I mutter mentally.
“What do you know?” Xaden asks, and the band of shadow strokes my inner thigh.
Fuck, it’s hard to think when he does that. “Records of the second Krovlan uprising have been ripped out of General Cadao’s journal, and Jesinia thinks an officer hinted that an isle kingdom was involved hundreds of years after we severed contact. General Aetos asked me about my father’s research on the subject last year—”
“Feathertails.” Xaden’s jaw ticks. “I vaguely remember him mentioning something about it on our way to the flight field.”
“Exactly. Dragons mentioned with isles tells me we should look south.” I watch the others descend into shouting, their hands flying as they sign, and Aura is the shrillest of them all. Pretty bold coming from a cadet. “I don’t know the contents of Dad’s research, but I do remember him suddenly going secretive with it about six months before he died. If he’d wanted Aetos or Markham to have it, he would have left the information in his Archives office.”
“As opposed to?” He glances my way as the shouting only grows.
“It’s in their quarters.” I wince. “General Aetos’s quarters. Don’t worry, Dain’s agreed to help me find it.”
Xaden cracks his neck. “‘Don’t worry’ and ‘Dain’ do not belong in the same sentence.”
“Silence!” Grady shouts, his complexion fully ruddy. “Aside from already provided logic, Deverelli requires too high a price for an audience. South is not an option,” he says to me, then turns toward Captain Henson. “And as for the Emerald Sea, perhaps dragons are the reason sailors don’t return. Until further notice, assume we will fly northward in the next month. Prepare your supplies. This meeting is adjourned.”
Fuck. Every bone in my body says to fly south.
“Stay,” Xaden says. “I’d kill for thirty seconds with you.”
“Absolutely.” A freaking hug sounds great.
Xaden and I hang behind as everyone files out, even Jesinia, but Aura Beinhaven waits at the door like a nursemaid, her brow arched as I gather my things.
“Yes, Aura?” I ask as I close my pack.
“Just waiting to escort you back to the quadrant.” She looks pointedly at Xaden. “Wouldn’t want you getting in trouble or doing something I’d have to report to General Aetos, seeing as Grady chose me as your companion and all.”
More like a fucking chaperone. “Do you mean Panchek?”
She shakes her head. “Aetos made it clear to the wingleaders that the Code of Conduct is to be followed to the letter.” Her eyes narrow. “Naturally, we’ve passed that order down through the chain of command. Turns out there are lots of us happy to make your life as miserable as possible.”
“Great.” I force a smile and the shadow slips from my thigh as I walk past Xaden, keeping even my eyes to myself so she doesn’t have anything to report.
“We’ll get time,” he promises.
“You’re safe here. That’s all that matters.”
At least until we go northward.
