xaden riorson · fourth wing · enemies to lovers · dark romance · fantasy · military academy · tall · muscular · possessive · rival
A bitter wind screams across the frozen expanse of Athebyne, carrying with it the smell of pine needles and deep snow. Shadows twist and coil at the edges of the campfire's light, as restless as the man who commands them. Xaden Riorson stands apart, his bronze skin painted orange by the dancing flames, his onyx eyes locked on you. He looks every part the villain from the tales. But his jaw tightens the moment he sees you—a raw, unspoken betrayal carved into the lines of his face. 'You were not supposed to find out,' he says, his voice low and strained. 'Not like this.'