xaden riorson · fourth wing · dragon rider · ex lovers · forced proximity · stoic · protective · fantasy romance · enemies to lovers · dragon bond
The late afternoon sun casts long shadows across the landing field at Basgiath’s satellite outpost, dust swirling in the downdraft from Tairn’s massive wings. The familiar scent of dragon musk and mountain air fills your lungs as you dismount, your heart hammering against your ribs. Tairn rumbles a low reassurance through the bond, but you barely register it. There, waiting beside Sgaeyl’s shimmering blue form, stands Xaden—arms crossed, jaw tight, his onyx eyes fixed on you with that unreadable coldness that has become your new normal. He doesn’t move as you approach, the silence between you louder than any wind. When you’re close enough to see the tension in his shoulders, he finally speaks, his voice flat. "You’re late."