“Aaric. Graycastle,” he repeats, his jaw flexing. He lifts his chin with the same arrogance I’ve seen in every single one of his brothers and especially his father. Even if I didn’t recognize him from the dozens of times our parents’ lives have tossed us into the same room, those startling green eyes mark him the same way my hair does me. He’s not going to fool anyone who’s ever met his father or any of his brothers.

I glance over at Dain, who openly stares at Cam—Aaric.

“You sure about this?” Dain asks, and the concern in his eyes gives me a glimpse of my Dain again, but it’s short-lived. That version of Dain, the one I could always depend on, died the day he stole my memories and set us on a collision course with venin. “You cross that parapet, and there’s no going back.”

Aaric nods.

“Aaric Graycastle,” I repeat to Rhiannon, who writes it down but clearly knows something is up.

“Does your father know?” Dain murmurs to Aaric.

“It’s none of his business,” he replies, stepping up to the parapet and rolling his shoulders. “I’m twenty.”

“Right, because that’s going to make a difference when he realizes what you’re doing,” Dain retorts, ripping his hand through his hair. “He’ll kill us all.”

“Are you going to tell him?” Aaric asks.

Dain shakes his head and looks to me like I have an answer for any of this when he’s the fucking wingleader.

“Good, then do me a favor and ignore me,” he says to Dain.

But not me.

“We’re Second Squad, Flame Section, Fourth Wing,” I tell Aaric. Maybe I can convince the others to keep it to themselves if they recognize him.

Dain opens his mouth.

“Not today,” I tell him, shaking my head.

He snaps his mouth shut.

Aaric adjusts his pack and starts across the parapet, and I can’t bring myself to watch.

“Who was that?” Rhiannon asks.

“Officially? Aaric Graycastle,” I tell her.

She lifts a brow, and guilt settles in my stomach.

There are too many secrets between us already, and this is something I can give her. Something she deserves to know, since I just directed him to our squad. “Between us?” I whisper, and she looks over at me with an arched brow. “King Tauri’s third son.”

“Oh shit.” She looks over her shoulder at the parapet.

“Pretty much. And I can guarantee his father doesn’t know what he’s doing.” Not with how he felt after Aaric’s older brother died during his Threshing three years ago.

“Should make for an easy year,” Rhiannon says sarcastically, then beckons the next person without missing a beat. “Name?”

“Sloane Mairi.”

My head whips in her direction, and my heart jumps into my throat. Same blond hair, though it’s currently tangling in the breeze past her shoulders. Same sky-blue eyes. Same rebellion relic winding around her arm. Liam’s little sister.

Rhiannon stares.

Dain looks like he’s seen a specter.

“With an ‘e’ on the end,” Sloane says, moving toward the steps and tucking her hair behind her ears nervously. It’s going to blow right back in her face with the next gust of wind, temporarily blinding her on the parapet, and I can’t let that happen.

I promised Liam I’d watch out for her.

“Stop.” I jump off the wall, then yank out the small leather band I keep in the front pocket of my uniform and hand it to her. “Tie your hair back first. Braid is best.”

Sloane startles.

“Vi—” Dain begins.

I glare over my shoulder at him. He’s the reason Liam isn’t here to protect Sloane himself. Rage courses through my veins, heating my skin. “Don’t you dare say another word, or I’ll blast you off this turret, Aetos.” Power crackles through my hands without being called and erupts overhead, streaking across the sky horizontally.

Oops.

He sits, muttering something about losing every fight today.

Sloane takes the leather from me slowly, then braids her hair—simple and quick—tying it with the band and eyeing me the entire time with the three inches she has on me.

“Arms out for balance,” I tell her, nausea rolling through me at the risk she’s about to take. “Don’t let the wind sway your steps.” They were Mira’s words, and now they’re mine. “Keep your eyes on the stones ahead of you and don’t look down. If the pack slips, ditch it. Better you lose it than your life.”

She glances up at my hair, then down at the two patches sewn onto my summer uniform right above my heart. One is the Second Squad patch we won during the Squad Battle last year and the other is a bolt of lightning that branches off in four different directions. “You’re Violet Sorrengail.”

I nod, my tongue tying. I can’t think of the right words to say about how sorry I am for her loss. Anything that comes to mind isn’t enough.

Her expression shifts, and something that looks a lot like hatred fills her eyes as she leans down, her voice quieting so that I’m the only one who hears her say, “I know what really happened. You got my brother killed. He died for you.”

I can actually feel the blood drain from my face as I blink away the memory of Deigh crashing into the wyvern who’d come for Tairn, sending Liam flying across my saddle. He’d been so heavy that my shoulders had almost dislocated trying to keep him from falling.

“Yes.” I can’t deny it and I don’t look away. “I’m so sorry—”

“Go straight to hell,” she whispers. “And I really mean that. I hope no one commends your soul to Malek. I hope he rejects it. Liam was worth a dozen of your kind, and I hope you spend eternity paying for what you cost me, what you cost all of us.”

Yep, that look in her eyes is definitely hatred.

My heart abandons my body and lands somewhere in the vicinity of her recommendation.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Tairn says.

“It was.” And if I don’t pull my shit together right now, I’ll fail Liam all over again. “Feel free to hate me,” I say to Sloane, stepping aside and clearing the way to the parapet. “Just do me a favor and put your fucking arms out so you don’t see Liam before I do. Do it for him. Not me.” So much for the caring, gentle mentor I’d hoped to be for her.

She jerks her gaze from mine and steps up.

The wind kicks up and she wobbles, sending my heart rate spiking.