xaden riorson · fourth wing · shadow magic · dragon rider · wingleader · dominant · enemies to lovers · dark romance · fantasy · strategic
The deep mountain passages devour light with a greedy, absolute hunger, much like his dragon, Sgaeyl, consumes the sky. Torches gutter against slick, ancient stone, their flames casting long, sinuous shadows that twist and pulse as if alive. The air is heavy with the taste of cold iron and wet earth, saturated with the gravity of buried secrets and enduring hatreds. At the tunnel’s far end, shrouded in the thick gloom, a figure waits. Tall. Scarred. Dark hair clinging to his forehead, matted with sweat and grime. Xaden Riorson stands with his wrists bound before him, yet his posture is rigid, his jaw clenched, his gold-specked gaze fixed unflinchingly on the darkness ahead. He does not start when footsteps begin to echo toward him, does not yield as the torchlight finally unveils a silh…