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“I'll make it up to you,' I promise, holding her delicate hands between my rough ones. 'I'm not saying we won't fight or you won't want to throw those daggers at me when I'm inevitably an ass, but I swear I will always strive to do better.' 'Make what up to me?' She pulls away with an inquisitive smile. I blink as her brow furrows. Has she lost her memories? 'How much do you remember?”

“I know why you said you don't see a future for us.' My heart races like it's trying to take flight as I blurt out the words. 'Do you?' Of course he isn't going to make this easy. I'm not sure the man even knows what easy is. 'You want me,' I say, looking him in the eyes. 'And no, I'm not just talking about in bed. You. Want. Me, Xaden Riorson. You might not say it, but you do one better and show it. You show it every time you choose to trust me, every time your eyes linger on mine. You show it with every sparring lesson you don't have time for and every flight lesson that pulls you away from your own studies. You show it when you refuse to touch me because you're worried I don't really want you, then show it again when you take the time to hunt down violets before a leadership meeting so I don't wake up feeling alone. You show it in a million different ways. Please don't deny it.' His jaw flexes, but he doesn't deny it. 'You think we don't have a future because you're scared that I won't like who you really are behind all those walls you keep. And I@m scared, too. I can admit it. You're graduating. I'm not. You'll be gone in a matter of weeks, and we're probably setting ourselves up for heartbreak. But if we let fear kill whatever this is between us, then we don't deserve it.' I lift one hand to the back of his neck. 'I told you that I was the one who would decide when I'm ready to risk my heart, and I'm saying it.' The way he looks at me, with the same mix of hope and apprehension currently flooding my system, gives me absolute life. 'You don't mean that,' he says, shaking his head. And there he goes, sucking the life right out again. 'I mean it.”

“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 her 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.”

“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 holds us steady despite the gusting wind. 'Gods help me, I'm only looking at you.”

“You want me,' I put my hand on his chest and feel his heart pounding. 'And I know that scares you even though I want you just as badly.' He stiffens. 'But here's the thing,' I hold his gaze, knowing he could bolt at any second. 'You don't get to dictate how I feel. You might give the orders out there, but not in here. You don't get to tell me we can fuck but I can't fall for you. That's not fair. You can only respect what I choose to do. So we're not doing this again until I want to risk my heart. And if I fall, then that's my problem, not yours. You're not responsible for my choices.' His jaw clenches once. Twice. And then he pushes off the wall, giving me space. 'I think that's for the best. I'm graduating soon, and who knows where I'll end up. Besides, you and I are chained together because of Sgaeyl and Tairn, which complicates... everything.' He retreats one step at a time, the distance more than just physical. 'Besides, with all that pretending, I'm sure we'll eventually forget last night ever happened.' The way we're looking at each other tells me neither of us is ever going to forget. And he can avoid it all he wants, but we're going to end up right here time and again until he's willing to recognise what this is. Because if there's one thing I know for certain, it's that I'm going to fall for this man- if I haven't already- and he's halfway there, too, whether he realises it or not. Turning my back on him, I walk to the shattered halves of my throwing target and pick them up before heading back across my room. 'I never figured you for a liar, Xaden.' I shove the halves at his chest. 'You can get me a new one when you're ready to come to your senses. Then we'll blow off some steam.' I throw the aggravating man out.”

“You're actually going to help me?' 'I've been helping you for months.' His hand flexes at my waist, and I swear I can feel the warmth of his touch through my cloak and leathers. 'No, you sent Liam to help. He's been helping me for months. My forehead puckers. 'Weeks. Almost months. Whatever.' He has the nerve to look offended. 'I'm the one who burst through your door and killed everyone who attacked you, and then I removed the other threat to your life with a very public, very polarising display of vengeance. Liam didn't do that. I did.' 'The crowd wasn't polarised. They were all for it. I was there.' 'You were torn. In fact, you begged Tairn not to kill her, damn well knowing she'd just come after you again.”

“It was a mistake. You and I are going to be stationed together for the rest of our lives, never able to escape the other. Getting involved- even on a physical level- is a colossal blunder. No point talking about it.' I barely keep from clutching at my chest to see if all my organs are where they're supposed to be, since it feels like he just eviscerated me with four sentences. But he had been just as into it as I was. I was there, and there was no mistaking that kind of... enthusiasm. But maybe it was the churam. 'What if I want to talk about it?' 'Then feel free, but it doesn't mean I have to be a part of the conversation. We're both allowed our boundaries, and this is one of mine.”

“Here's the thing, Sorrengail. Hope is a fickle, dangerous thing. It steals your focus and aims it toward the possibilities instead of keeping it where it belongs- on the probabilities.' 'So I'm supposed to what? Not hope that I live? Just plan for death?' 'You're supposed to focus on the things that can kill you so you find ways not to die.”

“I'm more dangerous than you think,' I flat-out bluster. 'So I see. I'm quaking in my boots.' The corner of his mouth rises in a mocking smile. Fucking. Asshole. I flip the daggers in my hand, pinching them at the tips, then flick my wrists and fire them past his head, one on each side. They land solidly in the trunk of the tree behind him. 'You missed.' He doesn't even flinch. 'Did I?' I reach for my last two blades. 'Why don't you back up a couple of steps and test that theory?' Curiosity flares in his eyes, but it's gone in the next second, masked by cold, mocking indifference. Every one of my senses is on high alert, but the shadows around me don't slide in as he moves backward, his eyes locked with mine. His back hits the tree, and the hilts of my daggers brush his ears. 'Tell me again that I missed,' I threaten, taking the dagger in my right hand by the tip. 'Fascinating. You look all frail and breakable, but you're really a violent little thing, aren't you?' An appreciative smile curves his perfect lips as shadows dance up the trunk of the oak, taking the form of fingers. They pluck the daggers from the tree and bring them to Xaden's waiting hands.”

“I don't think I'll bother sleep again.' I shoot a look sideways at his irritatingly gorgeous profile. 'And if you even think about suggesting that you sleep with me for safety from now on-' He scoffs. 'Hardly. I don't fuck first years- even when I was one- let alone... you.' 'Who said anything about fucking?' I fire back, cursing myself as the ache in my ribs only intensifies. 'I'd have to be a masochist to sleep with you, and I can assure you, I'm not.' Fantasising about it doesn't count. 'Masochist, huh?' A corner of his mouth quirks up into a smirk. 'You hardly give off snuggly morning-after vibes.' A smile of my own curves my lips. 'Unless you're worried about me killing you while we sleep.”

“You should show that little trick to Jack Barlowe,' Xaden says, turning his palms upward and offering me my daggers. 'I'm sorry?' This is a trick. It has to be a trick. He moves closer, and I lift my blade. My heart stumbles, the beat irregular as fear floods my system. 'The neck-snapping first-year who's very publicly vowed to slaughter you,' Xaden clarifies as my blade presses against his cloak at the level of his abdomen. He reaches under my cloak and slides one blade into the sheath at my thigh, then pulls back the side of my cloak and pauses. His gazes locks onto the length of my braid where it falls over my shoulder, and I could swear he stops breathing for a heartbeat before he slides the remaining dagger into one of the sheaths at my ribs. 'He'd probably think twice about plotting your murder if you threw a few daggers at his head.”

“I have zero concerns about that. As violent as you are, and skilled with those daggers, I'm not even sure you could kill a fly. Don't think I didn't notice that you managed to wound three of them and never went for a kill shot.' He shoots a disapproving look my way. 'I've never killed anyone,' I whisper, like it's a secret. 'You're going to have to get over that. All we are after graduation are weapons, and it's best if we're honed before leaving the gates.”

“Violet Sorrengail,' she whispers, moving closer. 'Are you wearing Riorson's flight jacket?' Liam's head snaps in my direction, curse his stupidly good hearing. 'Why would you say that?' I do a shitty job of feigning shock and shove the sheaths into every available pocket in this thing. All three of them, which are considerably deeper than the ones in my own jacket. 'Oh, I don't know. Because it's huge on you and there are three stars right here?' She taps where there's only one star on her uniform. Well, shit. Just goes to show that neither of us was thinking clearly. 'It could be any third-year's.' I shrug. 'With a Fourth Wing shield on the shoulder?' She cocks an eyebrow. 'That does limit it a bit,' I agree. 'And a wingleader emblem beneath those stars?' she teases. 'Fine, it's his.”