There is only one way to describe Diana Riorson's story; complicated. Her family is a wreck. Her father- dead. Her brother-disappeared. But if there's one thing she's learned in her many years at Basgiath Orphanage, it's that to survive she needs to...
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If Jack wants to kill me, he should probably stop the bleeding. His face looks like I've started a mini volcano throughout his nose. He's currently being hauled away by a medic, while I wave him off.
I join l the crowd of celebrating cadets and riders that's gathered in the sizable courtyard of the citadel. Rhiannon and Violet flanked at either side, both feeling the sudden relief of making it this far.
It's still early, probably around nine, but already I see there aren't many cadets as there were candidates ahead of me in line. Based on the overwhelming presence of leather, both the second- and third-years are here as well, taking stock of the new cadets.
Xaden is here. And he's probably pissed.
The rain eases into a drizzle as if it had only come to make the hardest test of my life even harder, but not today. Despite the world's desire to see me dead, I'm alive. I made it. Rhiannon made it. That's all that matters to me.
After a careful piece of advice from the woman, I'd left the parapet for good.
I can see Violet slightly stumble, her leg quivering slightly as she slumps forward.
"Lean on me," I whisper. "Don't put too much stress on that leg."
She looks at me once again, this time apprehensive as she learned my last name. I don't blame her; I get that a lot.
"I'm not going to kill you," I mutter.
"You just saved me, of course, I don't think you're going to kill me. I'm just wondering why you're helping me." Violet's arm wraps around my shoulders.
Rhiannon thankfully chooses now to interject. "I can't thank you enough, Di. There were at least three times I would have fallen off if you hadn't helped me. You were right—those soles were slick as shit. Have you seen the people around here? I swear I just saw a second year with pink streaks in her hair, and one guy has dragon scales tattooed up his entire biceps."
"Conformity is for the infantry," I say as she loops her arm through mine and Violet's and tugs us along toward the crowd.
"Speaking of which," Rhiannon says, glancing down. "We need to trade boots.
"There's a bench—" Violet begins.
A tall figure in a pristine black uniform steps out of the crowd, charging toward us, and though Rhiannon manages to dodge, Violet and I stumble smack into his chest.
"Violet?" Strong hands catch Violet's elbows to steady her.
Rhiannon yanks me back.
I recognize conceited asshole number three as Dain Aetos. He is taller than I expected. There's a scar that cuts across his jaw, new judging by the way Violet pays close attention to it. Well, closer.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Dain barks, the shock in his eyes transforming to something foreign, something deadly. "And with a fucking Riorson too?"
