We’re a tangle of tongues and teeth, questing lips and hands as the snow falls around us, and the kiss consumes me the same way the power had before, so thoroughly I can feel it in every cell in my body. Need pulses between my thighs, and I jolt at the simple knowledge that there’s nothing he could do that I wouldn’t welcome. I want him.

Only him. Here. Now. Anywhere. Whenever.

I’ve never been this out of control over a single kiss. Never wanted someone the way I do him. It’s exhilarating and terrifying at the same time because I know that in this moment, he has the power to break me.

And I’d let him.

I surrender completely, melting into him, my body going pliant against his and losing that mental foothold he calls grounding. A flash of light burns behind my closed eyes, followed by the boom of thunder. Thunder-snow isn’t uncommon around here, but damn does it summarize how this feels, wild and out of control.

But then he breaks the kiss with a sharp gasp, his brow furrowing with something akin to panic before he slams his eyes shut.

I’m still struggling to draw a full breath when he abruptly steps away from the wall and palms the backs of my thighs, setting me on my feet again. He makes sure I’m steady and then retreats a few feet, like the distance will save his life.

“You have to go.” His words are clipped and at odds with the heat in his eyes, his ragged breaths.

“Why?” The cold is a shock to my system without his body heat.

“Because I can’t.” He rakes both hands through his hair and leaves them on the top of his head. “And I refuse to act on desire that isn’t yours. So you have to walk back up those steps. Now.”

I shake my head. “But I want—” Everything.

“This isn’t your want.” He tilts his head up at the sky. “That’s the fucking problem. And I can’t leave you out here on your own, so have just a little mercy on me and go.”

Silence ices over between us as I get ahold of myself. He’s saying no.

And the shitty part about it isn’t the chill of chivalrous rejection. It’s that he’s right. This started because I couldn’t tell Tairn’s emotions from my own. But those emotions are gone, aren’t they? My door is wide open, and I don’t feel anything coming from Tairn’s direction.

I manage a nod, and then I flee for the second time tonight, climbing the steps as quickly as possible to get back to the citadel. My shields are open, but I don’t bother stopping to shut that mental door, since Tairn isn’t barging through.

Common sense prevails by the time I reach the top, my thighs burning from the workout. Xaden stopped us from making a huge mistake.

But I didn’t.

What the hell is wrong with me? And how could I have been a heartbeat away from ripping off my clothes to get closer to someone I don’t like and even worse—can’t fully trust?

It’s harder than it should be to keep moving in the direction of my dorm room when all I want is to go right back down those stupid freaking steps.

Tomorrow is going to suck.

The most worrisome sight for any instructor is most definitely when powers backfire. We lost nine cadets my first year to signets that could not be controlled from their first manifestation. Pity.

—Major Afendra’s Guide to the Riders Quadrant

(Unauthorized Edition)

CHAPTER

TWENTY-THREE

“I don’t even know what I was thinking,” I say to Rhiannon as I sit cross-legged on her bed, watching her pack her satchel with books for the afternoon. The relic on my back burns today, as if it needs to remind me that I can channel now, and I roll my shoulders to try and relieve the sensation, but it’s impossible. My clock has started.

“I can’t believe you managed to wait this long to tell me.” She lifts the canvas strap over her head and turns, leaning back against her desk. “And that’s not judgment. Far from it. I’m all for you exploring…whatever it is you want to explore.”

“I’ve been with Liam from the second I walked out the door this morning, and last night I was a little too discombobulated to put it into words.” The knot between my shoulders has me rolling my neck, looking for some relief. With flight lessons and Imogen using weight training to strengthen the muscles around my joints in hopes they won’t subluxate as often—which is hit or miss right now—I’m a mass of aches and tightness. “Between Tairn finally channeling and then everything else, it was just a night.”

“Good point.” A grin shapes her mouth and her brown eyes sparkle. “Was it good? Tell me it was good. That man looks like he knows exactly what he’s doing.”

“It was just a kiss.” Heat sings in my cheeks at the blatant lie. “But yeah. He knows exactly what he’s doing.” My brow furrows, my imagination running through the thousand different consequences of what I did last night just like it has been all morning.

“Second thoughts?” She tilts her head, studying me. “You look like maybe there are third thoughts, even.”

“No.” I shake my head. “Well, maybe? But only if it makes stuff between us weird.”

“Right. Because you’re stuck with him for the rest of your careers. Lives, too. Have you guys talked about what happens after he graduates?” Her eyebrows rise. “Oh, I bet you get the choice of duty stations. Wingleaders always get to pick.”

“He’ll get to pick,” I grumble, toying with an errant string on my satchel. “I will have to follow. Tairn and Sgaeyl haven’t been separated for years. Her last rider died almost fifty years ago, and as far as I know, she flew wherever and whenever she wanted to be near Tairn before Naolin—his last rider—died in Tyrrendor. It’s a two-day flight to that part of our border, depending on where he’s stationed, so what are we going to do next year and the year after?”

Her lips purse. “Not sure. Feirge said we won’t be able to be apart more than a couple of days, so does that mean one of you has to always follow the other?”

“No clue. I think that’s why most mated pairs bond within the same year, so they don’t have these issues. How am I supposed to remain competitive next year if I’m constantly flying off to the front line with Tairn? How is Xaden supposed to be effective if he has to fly back here all the time?” My face scrunches. “He’s the most powerful rider of our generation. He’s going to be needed on the front, not here.”

“For now.” Rhiannon stares at me with intention, lifting her brows. “He’s the most powerful rider in our generation for now.”

“What—”

Three knocks have both of us looking toward her door.

“Rhi?” Liam asks, panic evident in his voice. “Is Sorrengail in there with you? Because—”

Rhiannon opens the door, and Liam stumbles inside, catching his balance before his gaze sweeps the room, finding mine.

“There you are! I went to the bathroom, and you disappeared!”

“No one’s trying to assassinate her in my room, Mairi.” Rhiannon rolls her eyes. “You don’t have to be with her every second of every fucking day. Now give us five minutes and then we’ll start walking to class.” She pushes at his chest and he retreats, his mouth opening and shutting like he’s trying to think of an argument but can’t as she forces him out the door and shuts it in his face.

“He’s…” I sigh. “Dedicated.”

“That’s one word for it,” she mutters. “You’d think that guy owes Riorson his life or something, the way he sticks to you like glue.”

He’s pretty much told me that he does, but I keep that confidence to myself. Between Xaden’s meetings, stopping time, and Andarna’s age, I’m starting to keep too many secrets.

“Oh!” Her eyes light up, and she sits on the edge of the bed next to me. “Something happened with me last night, too.”

“Yeah?” I pivot to face her. “Do go on.”

“All right.” She takes a deep breath. “I’ve only done it three times. Twice last night and once this morning, so be patient for a second.”