“You’re sure they won’t be able to tell they’re here?” I ask Tairn, putting my flight goggles into my pack before sliding down Tairn’s foreleg. Landing on the frozen ground makes me wince. I’d woken up this morning with a hundred-yearold text stuck to my cheek and a throbbing ache in my neck.

“Not exactly, but there’s no snow at this elevation to carry tracks. Dragons only sense each other mind-to-mind when we allow it. As long as they stay downwind, the others will know they’re here but won’t be able to identify how many or who has come.”

“That’s not exactly comforting.” Especially given who insisted on traveling with us. I stretch my arms up at the sun and roll my neck carefully to ease the stiffness in my muscles. After fighting Solas yesterday and accidentally sleeping on a table in the library last night, my body has had it with me, and I can’t blame it.

“You are not a child in need of comfort.”

True, which only serves to remind me of the enraged adolescent I have waiting for me at home in Aretia. After telling her there would be no logical way to explain her presence even if Tairn carried her, which she was adamantly opposed to, Andarna cursed Tairn’s entire family line, then blocked us both and went to practice with the elders.

Tairn’s only response had been a muttered expletive about the moods of adolescents.

It doesn’t escape my notice that Sgaeyl stands between Teine and Fann, Ulices’s cantankerous Green Swordtail, not next to Tairn, which either explains or is a result of his surly mood this morning.

Mom and Dad are fighting, and everyone knows it.

Xaden crosses in front of Fann, completely unbothered by her snort of insult at his proximity, and peels off his gloves as he approaches me.

“You didn’t come to bed last night.” His brow furrows as he makes a quick study of my face, then shoves the gloves into his pocket, and I mirror his motions just in case we’ll need to wield.

Then I reinforce my shields.

“I was in the library with Dain, poring over Warrick’s journal to see what I got wrong. We both fell asleep on one of the tables, until Jesinia and a few others joined us for more study.” I meet his gaze, then look away before I start pelting him with questions or do something even more foolish like forgive him before getting answers.

“I thought Jesinia didn’t speak Old Lucerish?” He barely glances at the riders who walk by and gather in front of Fann. We’ve brought three from Mira’s unit in addition to members of the Assembly.

“She doesn’t, but Sawyer’s smitten, and the others were determined to help in any way they could.” Even Cat, Maren, and Trager had joined in a show of support.

“Did you find anything?”

The dragons raise their heads at a sound coming from the other side of the clearing, and the way they quickly lower them tells me everything I need to know. Early or not, this meeting is about to start.

“No,” I answer, keeping my eyes on the trees and fighting the apprehension trying to knot in my throat. The breath of life of the six and the one combined and set the stone ablaze in an iron flame. What did I miss? “If I had, you’d know it.”

“Would I?” His tone tightens.

“You would.” My gaze jumps to lock with his. “I appreciate you not trying to talk me out of coming.”

“I learned my lesson at Cordyn.” He searches my face but doesn’t reach for me. “Let me in. If only for a second, please let me in.”

My chest tightens with every heartbeat as I hold his gaze. Exactly how much of this is mine to forgive? It’s his secret. But I can’t help wondering how much he’s read into my own intentions. That’s the part that has me hesitant, no matter how much I love him.

“Violet?” It’s the blatant plea in his tone that has me lowering my shields just enough to feel our bond connect, and the resulting relief on his face is palpable. “If you decide to tell them what I am as punishment for the crimes I’ve committed against you, I’ll understand.”

“You want to discuss this now, of all times?” I lift my eyebrows at him.

“I wanted to discuss this last night, but apparently you were busy working to save Tyrrendor.” His attention shifts to the trees, and Tairn’s shadow races across the brittle prairie grass, winding around us.

“Are you complaining?” Our hands brush as we both turn to face whomever is coming through those trees.

“About you choosing the safety of my home over fighting with me?” He scowls but laces his fingers with mine. “No, but—”

Mira approaches from behind Xaden, her stride confident, though two lines of worry are etched between her brows.

I squeeze his hand, then let go.

“I need to know something.” I run my hands down my hips, counting the blades sheathed there, all six of them. “Did you ever use your signet to glean information to influence my feelings in any way?”

“Never.” He shakes his head, but his hands clench at his sides and the muscle in his jaw pops. “But I have always lacked a certain element of self-control when it comes to you, and our bond makes it way too easy for you to send your intentions without even realizing it.”

Death would be preferable to the embarrassment that accompanies that revelation.

“I could torch him if you would like,” Tairn offers. “But you do seem attached.”

Heat flushes up my neck and stings my cheeks, reminding me of the times my scalp would prickle in his presence. “You knew I wanted to kiss you that night by the wall…”

Gods, I can’t even finish the question.

The tops of the trees begin to sway. They’ve brought dragons.

“Yes.” He glances at me. “And you have my most sincere apology. Had I known what we would become”—he shakes his head—“fuck, I probably still would have done it.”

“Do you still do it?” I have to know.

“No. I stopped the moment you were more to me than the general’s daughter, the moment I realized the harm Dain had done—and that I was no better than he was.”

Except Xaden hadn’t brokered the information he’d stolen and been responsible for killing Liam and Soleil. Yet I’ve made some kind of peace with Dain, haven’t I?

Maybe I’m becoming complacent with betrayal because it’s fucking everywhere.

“I’m not going to turn you in,” I say quickly, looking up at him as Mira comes within hearing distance. “But we’ll be fighting about this later.” I lift my brows.

The muscle in his jaw ticks like he wants to say more, but he only adds, “I will make myself available to you.”

“You ready for this?” Mira asks, crossing in front of Xaden to stand beside me.

“No,” I reply to Mira. “Are you?”

“No.” She rests her hand on the pommel of the shortsword sheathed at her hip. “But she’ll never know that.”

“I want to be you when I grow up.” A smile tugs at my lips despite the anxiety quickening my breaths.

“You’ll be better than me,” she counters, then looks over the top of my head to talk to Xaden. “By the way, you couldn’t convince him to stay in Aretia?”

“I don’t wield emotions, and members of the Assembly don’t take well to being tied down and restrained.” He reaches back over his shoulder and draws one of the swords strapped to his back with his left hand, leaving his right free to wield. “If you’re looking to influence mindwork, find a flier.”

I barely keep myself from jabbing him at his clever semantics, because the man clearly specializes in mindwork.

“Here we go,” Mira mutters as seven figures dressed in black step into the clearing.