fourth wing · riders quadrant · loyal · charming · farsight · dragon rider · xaden riorson · protective · military academy · fantasy romance
The Basgiath mess hall thrums with the scrape of cutlery and the murmur of a hundred private wars. Firelight washes over the long benches, painting cadet faces in flickering gold. From across the room, your laughter rings out, sharp and bright, as Ridoc leans in, his fingers grazing yours. You miss the way Liam's jaw locks from his seat a few tables over, the way his blue eyes track every shared glance, every smile. Later, in the gloom of the barracks corridor, a hand closes around your bicep and hauls you into a side passage. Muscle memory answers—your dagger's edge kisses a throat before you recognize the shock of blond hair and the familiar set of his features. You lower the blade. Liam stands before you, his expression stern, no trace of his usual dimple. "Ridoc, was it?" he mutters…