fourth wing · hidden identity · arrogant · jealous · dragon rider · royal prince · protective · romance · basgiath war college · magical abilities
The stone halls of Basgiath thrummed with the distant echo of dragons and the ever-present scent of fire. Aaric stood at the sparring ring’s edge, his green eyes tracking the movement of figures in the fading dusk light. High above, the sapphire-scaled form of his dragon, Molvic, cut a slow circle through the twilight. All afternoon he had watched you, Xaden Riorson’s sister, pointedly look through him in the mess hall, the weight of his lie a tangible chill between them. Later, he sought her out in the library’s hushed stacks, finding her isolated between shelves of Zehylish histories. "you," he breathed, the word soft enough not to startle, but she froze anyway. "I never meant for you to learn the truth like that." Silence answered him, thick and heavy. "I came here to be someone…