Dain’s jaw flexes, and I see the war in his eyes.
“That’s unfair to ask him.” I move to Dain’s side as the sound of whipping wings interrupts the night. The dragons are flying back. They’ve made their decision.
“I’m ordering you to answer, squad leader.” Xaden doesn’t even spare me a glance.
Dain swallows, his eyes slamming shut. “No. I wouldn’t have.”
My heart hits the ground. I’ve always known deep down that Dain valued rule and order more than relationships, more than me, but to have it so cruelly displayed cuts deeper than Tynan’s sword.
Xaden scoffs.
Dain immediately jerks his head toward mine. “It would have killed me to watch something happen to you, Vi, but the rules—”
“It’s all right,” I force out, touching his shoulder, but it isn’t.
“The dragons are returning,” Xaden says as the first of them lands on the illuminated field. “Get back to formation, squad leader.”
Dain rips his gaze from mine and walks away, blending into the crowd of hurried riders and their dragons.
“Why would you do that to him?” I hurl at Xaden, then shake my head. I don’t care why. “Forget it,” I mutter, then march off, heading back toward the spot where Tairn told me to wait.
“Because you put too much faith in him,” Xaden answers anyway, catching up to me without even lengthening his stride. “And knowing who to trust is the only thing that will keep you alive—keep us alive—not only in the quadrant but after graduation.”
“There is no us,” I say, dodging a rider as she races past. Dragons land left and right, the ground trembling with the force of the riot’s movement. I’ve never seen so many dragons at flight in the same moment.
“Oh, I think you’ll find that’s no longer the case,” Xaden murmurs next to me, gripping my elbow and yanking me out of the path of another rider running from the other direction.
Yesterday, he would have let me run headfirst into him.
Hell, he might have even pushed me.
“Tairn’s bonds are so powerful, both to mate and rider, because he’s so powerful. Losing his last rider nearly killed him, which, in turn, nearly killed Sgaeyl. Mated pairs’ lives are—”
“Interdependent, I know that.” We move forward until we’re dead center in the line of riders. If I wasn’t so aggravated by Xaden’s callous attitude toward Dain, I would take the time to admire just how spectacular it is to see hundreds of dragons land all around us. Or maybe I’d question how the man next to me manages to consume all the air in the massive field.
“Each time a dragon chooses a rider, that bond is stronger than the last, which means that if you die, Violence, it sets off a chain of events that potentially ends with me dying, too.” His expression is immovable marble, but the anger in his eyes leaves me breathless. It’s pure…rage. “So yeah, unfortunately for everyone involved, there’s now an us if the Empyrean lets Tairn’s choice stand.”
Oh. Gods.
I’m tethered to Xaden Riorson.
“And now that Tairn is in play, that other cadets know he’s willing to bond…” He sighs, annoyance rippling over his features, his strong jaw working as he looks away.
“That’s why Tairn told me to stay with you,” I whisper as the consequences of today’s actions settle in my churning stomach. “Because of the unbonded.” There are at least three dozen of them standing on the opposite side of the field, watching us with avarice in their eyes—including Oren Seifert.
“The unbonded are going to try to kill you in hopes they’ll get Tairn to bond them.” Xaden shakes his head at Garrick as he approaches, and the section leader glances between us, his mouth set in a firm line before retreating across the field. “Tairn is one of the strongest dragons on the Continent, and the vast power he channels is about to be yours. The next few months, the unbonded will try to kill a newly paired rider while the bond is weak, while they still have a chance of that dragon changing its mind and picking them so they’re not set back a full year. And for Tairn? They’ll do just about anything.” He sighs again like it’s his new full-time job. “There are forty-one unbonded riders for which you are now target number one.” He holds up a single finger.
“And Tairn thinks you’ll play bodyguard.” I snort. “Little does he know just how much you dislike me.”
“He knows exactly how much I value my own life,” Xaden retorts, glancing down my body. “You’re freakishly calm for someone who just heard she’s about to be hunted.”
“It’s a typical Wednesday for me.” I shrug, ignoring the way his gaze heats my skin. “And honestly, being hunted by forty-one people is a lot less intimidating than constantly watching dark corners for you.”
A breeze hits my back as Andarna lands behind me, followed by a gust of wind and shuddering ground when it’s Tairn.
Without another word, Xaden rips his gaze from mine and walks away, cutting a slightly diagonal path across the field to where Sgaeyl overshadows the other wingleaders’ dragons.
“Tell me it’s going to be all right,” I murmur toward Andarna and Tairn.
“It is how it should be,” Tairn answers, his voice gruff and bored at the same time.
“You didn’t answer before.” Fine, it sounds a little accusatory.
“Humans can’t know what’s said within the Empyrean,” Andarna answers. “It’s a rule.”
So every rider was blocked, not just me. The thought is oddly comforting. Also, the whole Empyrean is a new term for me today. Kaori must be in heaven tonight with all the dragon politics coming to light. What did they decide?
I glance at my mother, but she’s looking everywhere but my direction.
General Melgren moves toward the front of the dais, his uniform dripping in medals. Dain’s right in one way—the top general in our kingdom is terrifying. He’s never had an issue using infantry for fodder, and his cruelty when it comes to overseeing the interrogation—and execution—of prisoners is well-known, at least at my family’s dining room table. His enormous nightmare of a dragon takes up the entire space beside the dais, and a hush falls over the crowd as Melgren angles his hands in front of his face.
“Codagh has relayed that the dragons have spoken regarding the Sorrengail girl.” Lesser magic allows his voice to magically amplify over the field for all to hear.
Woman, I mentally correct him, my stomach knotting.
“While tradition has shown us that there is one rider for every dragon, there has never been a case of two dragons selecting the same rider, and therefore there is no dragon law against it,” he declares. “While we riders may not feel as though this is…equitable”—his tone implies that he’s one of them—“dragons make their own laws. Both Tairn and…” He looks over his shoulder and his aide rushes forward to whisper in his ear. “Andarna have chosen Violet Sorrengail, and so their choice stands.”
The crowd murmurs, but my shoulders sag in acute relief. I don’t have to make an impossible choice.
