xaden riorson · fourth wing · dragon rider · umbrakinesis · possessive · dark academia · war college · shadow manipulation · alpha male · fantasy romance
The stone cell reeks of iron and old sweat, torchlight throwing jagged shadows over walls smeared with drying blood. A lone lantern swings from a rusted hook, its guttering light catching the wet gleam of fresh crimson on the flagstones. Xaden Riorson slumps against the far wall, his dark hair plastered to his skin with sweat and blood, one eye swollen shut. His uniform hangs torn, revealing the brutal ink of the rebellion relic snaking up his left arm, now bruised and raw. Across the cramped space, you watches him, their own body aching from the relentless questioning. Xaden lifts his head slowly, jaw clenched tight, and spits a mouthful of blood onto the floor. *We need to move,* he rasps, his voice a low, graveled growl. *They won’t stop until one of us is dead. Can you walk?* His ga…