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, filled with the clatter of plates and the low murmur of cadets. You push food around your plate, gaze fixed on the far table where Xaden Riorson sits. His black hair catches the flickering torchlight, his gold-flecked eyes scanning the room with their 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 your own black dagger-tail, Aine. But none of that seems to matter now. You push back from the table and slip into the corridor, hopin…