“Where are you going? They’re about to attack—” Melgren starts.

“I’m buying her the time she needs,” Xaden answers, and my stomach sinks.

“And they won’t attack. Not yet. They’re still waiting.”

“What the fuck for?” Melgren snaps.

Xaden’s hand tightens around mine. “Me.”

You’re going to love Violet. She’s smart and stubborn.

Reminds me a lot of you, actually.

You just have to remember when you meet her:

she’s not her mother.

—RECOVERED CORRESPONDENCE OF CADET LIAM MAIRI TO SLOANE MAIRI

CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

“What do you mean, they’re waiting for you?” I ask once we’re in front of Codagh, facing an open battlefield littered with the corpses of wyvern and dragons alike. A pulsing ache of dread erupts in my chest.

There’s already been so much death, and we haven’t yet faced the worst of their forces. From the look of that line, they’ve held almost all of their dark wielders back.

“That’s one of their teachers,” Xaden says, his eyes locked on the venin riding front and center. “The one who escaped Resson.”

“He was at the cliffs, too.” I fight to keep my voice as calm as possible despite the palpitations of my heart. I need to get those wards up now. They’re the best chance we have of getting out of here alive. But each dragon can only contribute their fire to one wardstone, which means—

“He thought we’d be at Samara. Figured we’d do the honorable thing and answer Melgren’s call.”

“How do you know that?” My brow furrows.

“Do us both a favor and don’t ask.”

Tairn and Sgaeyl prowl out past Aimsir, monitoring the threats both on the ground and in the sky as they head this way. Heart pounding, I glance between them and the slowly lowering figure of the Sage a hundred yards away. He’s coming to the ground.

Shit. I have to be quick.

“If you had to choose to correctly raise the wards here at Basgiath or ours at…” I can’t say it. Not here. “What would you choose?”

Xaden’s brow knits as he tears his gaze from the Sage to look at me.

“You have to choose. I only have the resources to fully raise the wards here or…there.” There’s a blatant plea in my tone. “I could never take that choice from you.” He’s already given so much.

He flinches, then glances toward the hovering horde and the theatrically slow descent of the Sage on his wyvern before bringing his eyes back to mine quickly. “You ward wherever you are, which is here.”

“But your home…” It’s softer than a whisper.

“You are my home. And if we all die here today, then the knowledge dies with us anyway. Ward Basgiath.”

“You’re sure?” My heart beats like the second hand of a clock, ticking down what time we have left.

“I’m sure.”

I nod, then slip my hand from his and pivot, facing down the biggest dragon on the Continent. “I need to talk to you.”

“Holy fuck, Violet.” Xaden turns, putting himself at my side as Codagh slowly lowers his head, tilting toward the end to glare at me with narrowed golden eyes, because even level, I won’t come past his nostrils. “You know what you’re doing?”

“If I don’t, we’re all dead.” And I’d better be quick, because Tairn is almost here. I can feel him dismantling my shields. No rider can keep their dragon out for long if they want in.

Codagh’s nostrils flare, and his lip curls above very sharp, very long, very close teeth.

“You know.” It comes out like the accusation it is. “And you didn’t tell your rider because dragonkind protects dragonkind.”

A blast of steam hits me in the face, and Xaden swears under his breath, shadows curling at his feet.

“Yes. I figured it out. I’ve already used Tairn’s fire on the second wardstone, so if I power the stone at Basgiath, will you come?” I ask, my fingernails cutting into my palms to keep from shaking. This is the one dragon on the Continent besides Sgaeyl who doesn’t fear Tairn on one level or another.

“You don’t need him as the black dragon for Basgiath,” Xaden argues. “You have Andarna.”

“Will. You. Come?” I hold Codagh’s menacing glare. “We’re all dead if you don’t. The Empyrean will end.”

He huffs another breath of steam, softer this time, then dips his chin in a curt nod, lifting his head as Tairn approaches from the left and Melgren appears on the far side of Codagh’s foreleg.

“You court death?” Tairn asks, pushing past my shields.

“I needed to confirm a secret that isn’t mine to share,” I answer. “Please don’t push.”

Tairn’s talons flex in the icy slush beside me.

I turn to Xaden. “I don’t want to leave you, and I have about a million questions as to why you think they’re coming for you, but if I don’t…” Every fiber of my being rebels at the notion of leaving him.

Leaning in, he lifts his hand to the nape of my neck. “You and I both know you can’t raise the wards and stay to fight. When we were in Resson, I held them back while you fought. I trusted you to handle yourself. Now trust me to handle myself while you get the wards up before more people die. End this.” He kisses me hard and quick, then looks at me like this will be the last time he ever sees me. “I love you.”

Oh…gods. No. I refuse to accept the goodbye in his tone.

“You will stay alive,” I order Xaden, then glance to the waiting horde, the figure of the Sage who is nearly to the ground, taking his time as if this is all a game he’s already won, and finally to Tairn. “Stay with him.”

Tairn growls, raising his lip over his fangs.

“Stay with him for me. Don’t you dare let him die!” Turning on my heel, I break into a run without saying goodbye to Xaden. Farewells aren’t needed when I’ll see him shortly. Because there’s no chance I’m going to fail.

“The fliers want to fight,” I say to Melgren. “Let them!”

I pretend I haven’t been in a battle for the last two hours, haven’t wielded to exhaustion, haven’t pushed my body to the breaking point and run.