His brow furrows, and he pulls me in closer against the warmth of his body. “Then what made you even think that? Have to admit, it pissed me off. I’ve given you exactly zero reasons to think I’m in anyone else’s bed.”

Which means he’s only in mine.

“My own insecurities and the way she looked at you and Garrick sparring. You might not have a thing for her, but she definitely has one for you. I know that look. It’s the same look I have when I’m watching you.” Embarrassment heats my cheeks. I could change the subject or deflect, but it’s not going to do our relationship—if that’s even what this is—any favors if I hide my feelings, no matter how weak the irrational ones might make me seem.

“You’re jealous.” He bites back a smile.

“Maybe,” I admit, then decide that answer is half-assed. “Fine. Yes. She’s strong and fierce and has that same ruthless streak you do. I’ve always thought she was a better match for you.”

“I know the feeling well.” He shakes his head. “And you are strong and fierce and have a ruthless streak, too. Not to mention you’re the smartest person I’ve ever met. That mind of yours is sexy as hell. Imogen and I are just friends. Trust me, she wasn’t looking at me, and even if she were…” He pauses, his hand slipping to cradle the back of my head as he holds us steady despite the gusting wind. “Gods help me, I’m only looking at you.”

Hope is a stronger buzz than anything they were serving at the party.

“She wasn’t looking at you?”

“No. Rethink what you just said but take me out of the equation.” He lifts his brows, waiting for me to come to the right conclusion.

“But on the sparring mat…” My eyes widen. “She has a thing for Garrick.”

“Catching on fast, aren’t you?”

“I am. Are you done pushing me away?”

He draws back, searching my eyes in the moonlight before glancing over my shoulder. “You done putting yourself in harm’s way to get your point across?”

“Probably not.”

He sighs. “There’s only you, Violence. Is that what you needed to hear?”

I nod.

“Even when I’m not with you, there’s only you. Next time, just ask. You’ve never had a problem being bluntly honest with me.” Wind blows around us, but he’s as immovable as the parapet itself. “As I remember, you’ve even thrown daggers at my head, which I greatly prefer over watching you get tangled up in your thoughts. If we’re going to do this, then we have to trust each other.”

“And you want to do this?” I hold my breath.

He sighs, long and hard, then admits, “Yes.” His hand slides up, and he caresses my cheek with his thumb. “I can’t make you any promises, Violence. But I’m tired of fighting it.”

“Yes.” One word has never meant so much to me. Then I blink, remembering his previous comment about jealousy. “What do you mean you know the feeling of jealousy well?”

His hands tighten on my waist, and he looks away.

“Oh no, if I have to trust you and tell you what I’m thinking, then I expect the same from you.” I’m not going to be the only vulnerable one out on this ledge.

He grumbles, dragging his gaze back to mine. “I saw Aetos kiss you after Threshing and nearly lost my shit.”

If I didn’t already love him, that might have pushed me over the edge. “You wanted me then?”

“I’ve wanted you from the first second I saw you, Violence,” he admits. “And if I was short with you today…well, it’s just a shit day.”

“I understand. And you know Dain and I are just friends, right?”

“I know that’s how you feel, though I wasn’t sure back then.” He runs his thumb over the swell of my lips. “Now get your ass back on solid ground.”

He wants to stay out here and wallow.

“Come with me.” My fingers grasp the material of his flight leathers, ready to tug him along if I have to.

He shakes his head and looks away. “I’m not in a place to take care of anyone tonight. And yes, I know that’s a shitty thing to say, since it’s the anniversary of losing Brennan—”

“I know.” I slide my hands down his arms. “Come with me, Xaden.”

“Vi…” His shoulders dip, and the sadness that permeates the air between us puts a lump in my throat.

“Trust me.” I step back out of his arms and take his hands. “Come on.”

A moment of tense silence passes before he nods once, moving forward and holding me steady while I turn around. “I’m much better at this than I was last July.”

“So I see.” He stays close, one hand on my waist as I walk the last part of the parapet. “In a fucking dress.”

“It’s a skirt, actually,” I say over my shoulder, only feet away from the wall.

“Eyes forward!” he grumbles, and it’s only the fear in his tone that keeps me from doing something arrogant like skipping the last few feet.

The second we’re within the confines of the wall, he hauls me against him, my back to his front. “Don’t ever put your life at risk over something as trivial as talking to me again.” It’s as low as a growl against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.

“Next year is going to be so much fun,” I tease, walking forward and lacing my fingers with his so he follows.

“Liam will be here next year to make sure you’re not doing asinine things,” he mutters.

“You’re going to love getting his letters,” I promise, jumping the final foot off the parapet to the courtyard below. “Huh.” I glance around the empty courtyard while putting my slippers back on. “Garrick and Bodhi were just here.”

“They probably know I’m going to kill them for letting you out there. A dress, Sorrengail? Really?”

I take his hand in mine and head across the courtyard.

“Where are we going?” He sounds just as much the asshole as the day I met him.

“You’re taking me to your room,” I say over my shoulder as we approach the dormitory.

“I’m what?”

I throw open the door, grateful for the mage lights that make it easy to see him now, sneer and all. “You’re taking me to your room.” Turning left, I lead us past the hallway to my room and then start up the wide spiral staircase.

“Someone will see,” he argues. “It’s not my reputation I’m worried about, Sorrengail. You’re a first-year and I’m your wingleader—”

“Pretty sure everyone already knows—we set half the forest on fire that night,” I remind him as we climb past the door to the second-year hallway. “Did you know that the first time I climbed these steps with Dain, I was horrified that there wasn’t a handrail?”

“Did you know I can’t stand to hear his name on your lips while you’re leading the way to my room?” He trudges up the steps behind me, shadows curling from the wall as if they sense his mood and want nothing to do with it. But his shadows don’t scare me. There’s nothing about this man that scares me anymore, except the magnitude of my feelings for him.