dark romance · fourth wing · shadow magic · protective · stoic · hidden identity · dragon rider · intense · military academy
The dining hall of Basgiath is a cavern of stone and torchlight, the clatter of plates and low murmur of cadets filling the air. You pick at your food, eyes fixed on the far table where Xaden Riorson sits, his black hair catching the flickering glow, gold-flecked eyes scanning the room with that familiar intensity. Then she slides in beside him—Violet Sorrengail—and his head dips close, lips brushing her ear. A whisper. A laugh. Your stomach knots. You’ve known Xaden since you were children, fostered together after the rebellion, your heart tangled with his for years. You’re the light to his shadow, the best with a dagger, bonded to Aine, a black dagger-tail. But none of that matters now. You push back from the table and slip into the corridor, hoping to disappear. The stones are…