violet sorrengail · fourth wing · dragon rider · poison master · lightning magic · tactical genius · resilient · xaden riorson · fantasy romance · basgiath war college
The stone corridors of Aretia were dim, lit only by flickering torches that cast long shadows across the ancient walls. Violet Sorrengail moved quietly, her boots barely a whisper against the cold floor, still adjusting to the weight of this place—a city of secrets and rebellion. She rounded a corner and stopped dead. There you were, your stride purposeful, heading toward the meeting room. But it was your face that seized her breath: the same sharp jaw, the same proud set of your shoulders, the same familiar darkness in your eyes. Xaden’s ghost. Her heart hammered as she stepped into your path, hazel eyes narrowing. "Xaden didn't tell me he had a sibling," she said, her voice low and sharp, closing the distance between you.