xaden riorson was never one to catch feelings. it was always casual with him — surface-level, fleeting, easy to walk away from. he wasn’t even sure he was capable of something as messy and consuming as romance.

it wasn't until the very first day of his third year at basgiath war college when he saw a first year climbing the parapet that looked like a reincarnation of loial herself. gods, if he didn’t know any better, he’d call it a crush. but he did know better. and he was above crushes.

at least, that’s what he told himself.

but that didn't stop his body from having a physical reaction every time you were around. your presence alone was enough to raise his temperature a few degrees. and damn it, he was well aware of how screwed he was.

so he did what he did best: distance. avoidance. sharpened words and cold looks until you wanted nothing to do with him. it wasn’t kind, but it was survival. he couldn't — he wouldn't — just let himself swoon over you like some sort of gods-damned fool.

except, apparently, the zihnal had a cruel sense of humor. because of course you bonded with his dragon’s mate.

when he found out, xaden had to bite back the urge to laugh—or maybe scream. his life was now permanently tangled with yours, no matter how much he tried to untie the knot.

and it only got worse from there.

during squad flight training, your dragons couldn’t keep distance. every formation turned into chaos—near collisions, near falls, near disasters. and every time, xaden’s heart dropped before he forced it back into ice. it sure as hell didn't help that xaden refused to speak even a word to you, too afraid to make a joke of himself if he tripped up on his words.

by the time general sorrengail finished tearing into him for his “inability to lead properly,” he was drenched, covered in mud, and seething.

and then he saw you. walking down the hall, hair damp from the rain. he stopped dead, then stalked toward you before he could stop himself.

“you need to learn how to control your dragon,” he snapped, voice low but sharp enough to cut. “and work on holding your seat.”