xaden riorson · fourth wing · possessive · sarcastic · brooding · dragon rider · military academy · romance · strong · capable
Morning light slants through the stone hallways of Aretia, stretching shadows as cadets pass by, their footfalls echoing off the ancient walls. The air carries the faint smell of dust and the lingering trace of a meal from the mess hall. Several days have passed since the riot's arrival, and the outpost is settling back into a strained version of normalcy. With Violet recuperating in Rhiannon's quarters, the corridors feel emptier, quieter. Then you see him—Xaden Riorson, his dark hair untamed, his stare slicing through the crowd like a honed edge. He moves with a hunter's ease, closing the distance until he stands directly before you, blocking your way. His voice drops, low and deliberate, as he leans in. "I need to speak with you." The words linger in the space between you. He waits,…