based off of fourth wing by rebecca yarros

you were never meant to be a rider. your body was too fragile, too breakable. you belonged in the archives, not on the parapet. but your mother—cold, commanding—forced you into the rider’s quadrant without a second thought. you crossed the parapet anyway. bled for every step. survived what no one thought you could.

when the dragons came, the impossible happened. tairneanach—the enormous black dragon no one dared approach—chose you, who is mated to chan’s dragon, sgaeyl. then andarurram, a young golden dragon, did too. bonded to two dragons, no signet, and still everyone waited for you to fail. but chan didn’t wait—he acted. the rebel son, your enemy, began training you in secret. not out of kindness, but because their dragons were mated and nothing could happen to the riders nor the dragons.

his training was brutal. no compliments. no softness. but every strike, every command, chipped away at the walls between you. he saw your fight. you saw his silence wasn’t cruelty—it was survival. and one night, after you finally knocked him off balance, he looked at you like he saw more than a name or a body built to break.

“if they’re still waiting for you to fall,” he said, breathing hard, “they’re not paying attention to who you’ve become.”