“Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” I arch an eyebrow.
His gaze flashes to mine. “Like you’re thinking about the sparring gym last night.”
“Well, duh,” Rhiannon says across from me. “That’s why Devera has about five hundred black dress uniforms in commons right now. Where the king travels, so does the party.”
“Well, now that you mention it.” My tongue flicks over my lower lip, remembering how his hips pinned mine to the mat after everyone had left for the night. How close we both came to giving in to the pulsing need between us.
His jaw flexes, and his grip tightens on his fork. “Seriously. I can’t think when you look at me like that.”
“Really? I figured those were for graduation?” Ridoc questions.
Imogen scoffs. “Like anyone dresses up for graduation. It’s basically a giant formation where Panchek says, Look, you lived. Good job. Come get your assignments and then pack your shit and leave.”
Everyone laughs at her spot-on imitation.
“You’re the one with the ridiculous rule about not falling for each other,” I remind him.
“You’re still looking.” He forces his attention back to his plate.
“You make it hard to look away.” I miss his mouth on my skin, the feel of his body pressed against mine. I miss the look on his face when he watched me come undone. But I miss the feeling of him curled around me in sleep more.
“I’m over here keeping my hands and memories to myself because you asked me to, and you’re fucking me with your eyes. That’s not playing fair.”
I drop my fork and everyone at the table turns to stare.
“You all right over there?” Rhiannon asks, her eyebrows rising.
“Yep.” I nod, ignoring the flush of heat creeping up my neck. “I’m great.”
Liam sets his glass down and glances between Xaden and me, shaking his head as he fights a smile. Of course he knows what’s going on. He’d have to be completely oblivious not to, considering he helped Xaden and Garrick move in the new armoire.
“Told you to stop staring.” There’s laughter in his voice, but his face is as expressionless as ever.
I tap my fork on my plate in pure frustration. You know what? Fuck this. Two can play at this game. “If you’d just man up and admit there’s something between us, I would strip down to my skin so you could see every single inch of me. And once I had you begging, I’d drop down to my knees, undo those flight leathers you’re wearing, and wrap my lips around—”
Xaden chokes.
Every head in the dining hall turns his way, and Garrick pounds on his back until Xaden waves him off, taking a drink of his water.
I grin, which earns me about six looks of confusion from our table and one set of rolled eyes from Liam.
“You’re going to be the death of me.”
…
We’re only ten days away from graduation, and I’m counting every single one of them. That’s when we’ll find out how far Xaden is being sent from Basgiath. Most brand-new lieutenants are given midland posts, manning the forts along the roads that lead to the border outposts, but someone with Xaden’s power? I don’t even want to think about how far he’ll be.
Or why he still hasn’t admitted there’s something between us. Or even hinted that at least he didn’t regret that one night. I’d take that.
Don’t fall for me…
I feel a familiar prickle along my scalp, and I know Xaden has filed into the Battle Brief room with the rest of the remaining cadets and leadership.
Professor Devera jumps right into today’s brief, but I find it difficult to pay attention.
Today marks six years since Brennan was killed. He’d be a captain by now, or maybe even a major, given the way his career had taken off. Maybe he’d be married. Maybe I’d be an aunt. Maybe our father’s heart wouldn’t have given out that first time from the strain of losing him or that final time that spring two years ago.
“Take me to bed,” I mentally blurt out, then sink down in my seat a little. I don’t regret it, though. Today of all days, I need a distraction.
“It might be awkward in front of all these people.”
I can’t see him from where I know he’s sitting at the top of the Battle Brief room, but his words feel like a caress on the back of my neck. “Might be worth it.”
“And what would you have done differently?” Devera asks, scanning the crowd.
“I would have asked for reinforcements if I’d known the wards were weakening in the area,” Rhiannon answers.
“I haven’t changed my mind, Violence. There’s no future for us.”
“And when no reinforcements are available?” Devera asks, arching a brow. “You have noticed that the graduating classes from the Riders Quadrant are diminishing every year, while the uptick in attacks has cost us another seven riders and their dragons this year, haven’t you? It takes at least a full company of infantry to make up for the loss of one rider.”
“Graduation is ten days away.” The approaching deadline has me on edge.
“I would have temporarily pulled riders from the midland posts to help rebuild the wards,” Rhiannon answers.
“Don’t remind me.”
