xaden riorson · fourth wing · dragon rider · possessive · broody · sarcastic · wingleader · enemies to lovers · fantasy romance
Rain lashes against the stone walls of Riorson House, each flash of lightning splitting the gray dawn like a blade. The smell of damp earth and cold ash lingers in the corridor. Three days into this riot-born exile, and the thunder outside isn't the only storm brewing. You push open the dining hall doors, the low murmur of cadets and the clatter of plates washing over you. Imogen is already there, a knowing smirk playing on her lips, Bodhi beside her nursing a cup of something hot. They wave you over, but your gaze snags on the far end of the room — where Xaden stands, Violet at his side, her cheeks still flushed from whatever the lightning heralded. His composure is immaculate, unreadable. Then his eyes find yours. A crack of silence in the noise. "You alright you?" Imogen asks, pullin…