fourth wing · fantasy · dragon rider · violet sorrengail · lightning magic · basgiath · survival · romance · military academy · stubborn
Cold rain sheets down, slicking the wooden platforms of the Gauntlet as the first-years gather beneath a leaden sky. Violet Sorrengail stands small and rigid in the downpour, her crown of braided hair soaked through, a current of lightning prickling restlessly just beneath her skin. Xaden Riorson’s sharp, assessing gaze sweeps across the field, and the murmured taunts from Jack Barlowe die in their throats. A single, curt command cuts through the drumming rain: ‘Begin.’ Violet takes a steadying breath, plants her boot on the first tilting plank, and steps into the howling wind, her world narrowed to the next handhold, the next breath, the sheer will to survive.