“I’m not choosing,” I repeat, softer this time. What if I can’t have either of them? What if they’ve broken some sacred rule and now we’ll all be punished?
“You are. And it has to be Andarna.” He grips my shoulders and leans in, an edge of urgency in his tone. “I know she’s too small to bear a rider—”
“That hasn’t been tested,” I say defensively even though I know it’s true. The physics just don’t match up.
“And it doesn’t matter. It will mean that you won’t be able to ride with a wing, but they’ll probably make you a permanent instructor here like Kaori.”
“That’s because his signet power makes him indispensable as a teacher, not because his dragon can’t fly,” I argue. “And even he had the requisite four years with a combat wing before he was put behind a desk.”
Dain looks away, and I can almost see the gears in his mind turning as he calculates…what? My risk? My choice? My freedom? “Even if you take Andarna into combat, there’s only a chance you’ll be killed. You take Tairn, and Xaden will get you killed. You think Melgren is terrifying? I’ve been here for a year longer than you have, Vi. At least you know what you’re getting when it comes to Melgren. Xaden isn’t only twice as ruthless, but he’s dangerously unpredictable.”
I blink. “Wait. What are you saying?”
“They’re a mated pair, Tairn and Sgaeyl. The strongest bonded pair in centuries.”
My mind whirs. Mated pairs can’t be separated for long or their health diminishes, so they’re always stationed together. Always. Which means—oh gods.
“Just…tell me how it happened.” He must see me fumbling because his voice softens.
So I do. I tell him about Jack and his band of murderous friends hunting Andarna. I tell him about falling, and the field, and Xaden watching, Xaden…shockingly protecting me with his warning when Oren was at my back. He had the perfect opportunity to end me without it tipping his scales, and he chose to help. What the hell am I supposed to do with that?
“Xaden was there,” Dain says quietly, but the gentleness leaches from his voice.
“Yes.” I nod. “But he left after Tairn showed up.”
“Xaden was there when you defended Andarna, and then Tairn just…showed up?” he asks slowly.
“Yes. That’s what I just said.” Was the timeline confusing him? “What are you getting at?”
“Don’t you see what happened? What Xaden’s done?” His grip tightens. Thank gods for the dragon-scale armor, or I might have bruises tomorrow.
“Please, do tell me what it is you think I’ve done.” A shape emerges from the shadows, and my pulse quickens as Xaden steps into the moonlight, darkness falling off him like a discarded veil.
Heat rushes through every vein, wakes every nerve ending. I hate the reaction of my body to the sight of him, but I can’t deny it. His appeal is so fucking inconvenient.
“You manipulated Threshing.” Dain’s hands drop from my shoulders, and he turns to face our wingleader, the set of his shoulders rigid as he puts himself between us.
Oh shit, that’s a huge allegation to hurl.
“Dain, that’s…” Paranoid. I sidestep Dain’s back. If Xaden was going to kill me, he wouldn’t have waited this long to do it. He’s had every possible opportunity, and yet I’m still standing here. Bonded. To his dragon’s mate.
Xaden’s not going to kill me. The realization makes my chest tighten, makes me reexamine everything that happened in that field, makes my sense of gravity shift beneath my feet.
“Is that an official accusation?” Xaden looks at Dain like a hindrance, an annoyance.
“Did you step in?” Dain demands.
“Did I what?” Xaden arches a dark brow and levels a look on Dain that would make a lesser person wither. “Did I see her outnumbered and already wounded? Did I think her bravery was as admirable as it was fucking reckless?” He turns that stare on me, and I feel the impact all the way to my toes.
“And I would do it again.” I raise my chin.
“Well-the-fuck-aware,” Xaden roars, losing his temper for the first time since I met him on Parapet.
I pull in a quick breath, and Xaden does the same, as if he’s just as shocked by his outburst as I am.
“Did I see her fight off three bigger cadets?” His glare pivots to Dain. “Because the answer to all of those is yes. But you’re asking the wrong question, Aetos. What you should be asking is if Sgaeyl saw it, too.”
Dain swallows and looks away, obviously rethinking his position.
“His mate told him,” I whisper. Sgaeyl called for Tairn.
“She’s never been a fan of bullies,” Xaden says to me. “But don’t mistake it as an act of kindness toward you. She’s fond of the little dragon. Unfortunately, Tairn chose you all on his own.”
“Fuck,” Dain mutters.
“My thought exactly.” Xaden shakes his head at Dain. “Sorrengail is the last person on the Continent I’d ever want to be chained to me. I didn’t do this.”
Ouch. It takes all the willpower in my body not to reach for my chest and make sure he didn’t just rip my heart out from behind my ribs, which makes absolutely zero sense, since I feel the same way about him. He’s the son of the Great Betrayer. His father was directly responsible for Brennan’s death.
“And even if I had.” Xaden moves toward Dain, towering over him. “Would you really level that accusation knowing it would have been what saved the woman you call your best friend?”
My gaze flies to Dain, and a silent, damning moment passes. It’s a simple question, and yet I find myself holding my breath for his answer. What do I really mean to him?
“There are…rules.” Dain tilts his chin to look Xaden in the eyes.
“And out of curiosity, would you have, let’s say, bent those rules to save your precious little Violet in that field?” His voice ices over as he studies Dain’s expression with rapt fascination.
Xaden had taken a step. Right before Tairn landed, he’d moved…toward me.
