Rhiannon lifts a brow from my other side.

I note the twinge of jealousy that she’s been privy to parts of his life that I haven’t, but there’s no rage, no sour jolt of insecurity, and no self-loathing. I fucking love my daggers for a whole new reason.

Her eyes widen slightly as if she senses that she can’t touch me, then narrow into malicious slits. Civility is definitely not on her agenda.

“Like I said.” I offer her a bright smile. “Welcome to the quadrant’s only Iron Squad.” Pivoting, I hook my arm through Rhiannon’s, and we start to walk away with the rest of the riders in our newly enlarged squad.

“Being in the same squad doesn’t change the fact that it’s still my crown,” she blurts.

“Let’s feed her to Sgaeyl,” Rhiannon whispers as we pause.

I look at Cat over my shoulder. “Did you know that Tyrrendor hasn’t had a crown in more than six hundred years? Turns out they melted them all down to forge the unification crown, so good luck with that.”

“It’s going to be fun making your life as miserable as you’ve made mine.”

Oh, fuck civility.

“Gods, she really can’t help herself, can she?” Rhiannon says under her breath.

“Cat, stop it,” Maren chastises. “You’re being ugly. I’ve told you over and over that she didn’t drop Luella. She fell. It’s as simple as that.”

“You’re welcome to try and make me miserable,” I tell Cat, letting go of Rhiannon to walk back to the flier. “Oh! And one more thing.” I lower my voice just slightly, well aware of every head within our squad that turns our direction.

“What?” she snaps.

“That trick you mentioned? You know, with the fingers?” A slow smile spreads across my face. “Thanks.”

Cat’s eyes bulge.

Imogen laughs so hard she snorts as I walk back to Rhiannon.

“Damn. Just…damn.” Rhi claps a few times.

“I fucking love you.” Ridoc throws his arm around my shoulders. “Anyone hungry? I woke up somewhere I hadn’t exactly planned on and missed breakfast.”

“I would,” I tell him, “but I have plans in the library.”

“The library? Then me too,” Sawyer chimes in, following quickly.

“I’ll go with,” Rhiannon says with a nod.

“If the three of you are going, then so am I,” Ridoc adds.

“You guys don’t have to come with me,” I say once we’re halfway through the foyer.

“Oh, we needed to get away from Cat.” Ridoc waves me off. “You’re just the excuse.”

“Her abilities are…horrifying,” Sawyer concludes. “What if she decides to make me hate you?”

“Make Xaden hate you?” Rhiannon’s eyebrows rise.

“She can’t.” I shake my head.

“Or make you instantly horny for some random flier, and then you’re not the only one in that bed when Xaden rotates back,” Ridoc muses. “Her signet—or whatever they call it—is fucking terrifying.”

“She can only amplify the emotions you already have,” I explain to them.

“We could kill her.” Sawyer reaches for the door handle. “All the fliers are still struggling with the altitude, and their gryphons are still sleeping half the day, according to Sliseag, so they’re probably at their weakest.”

We all fall quiet, not out of shock but because we actually consider it for a few seconds. At least, I do. “We can’t kill her. She’s our squadmate.”

Wait, is that really the only ethical line there?

“You sure?” Sawyer tilts his head. “Say the word and we’ll bury a body. We still have a couple of hours before we’re due in Battle Brief.”

“Good idea. I could use a snack.” Andarna’s tone is indecently excited.

“We do not eat our allies,” Tairn lectures.

“You never let me have any fun.”

I crack a genuine smile. “I appreciate the offer.”

We walk into the library, and I breathe in deeply. The scent in the two-story room is different than the Archives. Parchment and ink still smell the same, but there’s no earthy undertones because we’re aboveground, with light streaming in through the windows. Only the shelves of the first floor are filled with books, but I’ve made it my personal mission to see that the second floor looks the same within the next decade.

Stone may not burn, but books do.

“What are we doing here, anyway?” Ridoc asks as I swing my pack off my shoulder, picking the first empty table I see to rest it on. He gestures at Sawyer, who is scanning the back of the library. “I mean, we all know what he’s doing here.”

“Finding my center.” My answer earns me two very perplexed looks. “Tecarus sent some books back for me with Xaden after the weapons run yesterday, probably still hoping to get on my good side.” One by one, I remove the six books he gifted, stacking them on the table and placing the protective bag with Warrick’s journal on top. “Krovlish is not my strong suit.”

“Krovlish isn’t anyone’s—”

I grin as Sawyer cuts off mid-sentence at the sight of Jesinia.

“Good morning,” he signs at me. “Is that right?”

“You’ve got it.”

He takes off in her direction.

“Would have been more fun my way. She’s got a great sense of humor,” Ridoc mumbles.

“He’s learning to sign!” Rhiannon smiles and sits on the edge of the table. We shamelessly turn to watch Sawyer greet Jesinia.

“And he’s already coming back?” Ridoc’s brow furrows.

I glance at the clock. “He only knows about four phrases, but he’s catching on.”