Onyx Storm (The Empyrean Book 3)

While cadets are strongly encouraged not to form romantic attachments while studying in the quadrant, lieutenants are permitted to marry whomever they choose upon graduation.

—Article Five, Section Seven The Dragon Rider’s Codex

VIOLET

“Violet!” Brennan shouts, racing down the steps of Riorson House and into the moonlit courtyard.

Sounds of celebration stream through the open doors.

I groggily rise to my feet beside Imogen, and a shape moves in the shadows to the right.

“I will not let them burn you,” Andarna vows.

“What?” My head whips her way. “Why would my brother burn me?” And why in Dunne’s name would I be sitting on gravel in the courtyard? My thoughts are…slow. Something’s off.

Something’s wrong.

“Are you all right?” I ask Brennan as he reaches us.

“Am I all right?” His eyes bulge, and he looks me over for injury. “It’s three o’clock in the morning! Where have you been?” His voice rises, and a group of riders I don’t recognize comes through the gate at our left. “Weilsen?” Brennan asks, and the taller one walks our way. “Report.” He glances over his shoulder. “Quietly.”

My mouth opens, then shuts. Where have I been?

“We’ve—” The officer’s gaze darts over me.

“It’s fine,” Brennan assures him.

“Official numbers are four riders, their dragons, and three elders murdered in the valley in what we’re estimating is the last few hours,” Weilsen says. “And we still have five riders missing—four now,” he adds, looking at me. His mouth tenses. “But after that display, we all know Riorson did this. I bet the other three are already dead.”

My stomach lurches, and Imogen tenses so hard she might as well be stone.

Wait. Is this a dream? I clench my right fist and prick my palm with my fingernails just enough to feel pain, but I don’t wake.

“The wards are holding in Draithus as of the last report, but who knows how many of those desiccations during the battle were actually him,” Weilsen continues. “And so far, the tally is at six missing eggs from the hatching ground, but they’re double-checking.”

Missing eggs? I reach for Tairn, but the bond feels foggy, like he’s asleep.

“He needs a cycle of rest to recover,” Andarna clarifies.

“Recover from what?” He was fine when I saw him last, which was about five minutes ago, in the woods at the edge of the field—

Where I killed Theophanie.

Xaden.

The wall of shadows… My heart sinks. What the fuck is happening? How did I get here? Why is my head so hazy? Am I concussed?

“You’re dismissed,” Brennan tells the rider. “Keep this classified until we have a full report.”

“Just because she’s your sister doesn’t mean she’s not the fastest way—”

“Dismissed!” Brennan snaps, and the rider backs away.

“Do you know where he is?” Brennan asks me softly once the other rider is fully out of earshot. “Riorson? You heard what Weilsen said. We have dead dragons and riders and missing eggs, and if you’ve seen Riorson, I need to know, Violet.”

“I…” Words fail me. Why can’t I think? “I don’t know.” I raise my hands to my mouth, and a piece of parchment in my front pocket catches on my arm, then falls.

Brennan catches it. “Cardulo?” He lifts his eyes to Imogen.

“I haven’t seen him since yesterday,” she says, her voice low, almost monotone. “Lieutenant Tavis?”

“Among the missing,” Brennan answers gently, then glances my way and does a double take. “Holy shit, Violet.”

“What?” I lower my arms. Garrick is missing, too? Who else makes up the four riders Weilsen mentioned?

“Your finger,” Imogen says, then stares at the ground.

My finger? The snap. Right. “I think I broke my arm.” I glance down and stare.

My left arm is splinted, and a beautiful gold ring with an emerald the size of my thumbnail sits on my hand. Oh gods, I know that stone. It matches the others from the Blade of Aretia upstairs on Xaden’s nightstand. Is it the missing one? “What is happening right now?” I ask slowly.

“You don’t know?” Brennan lowers his voice.

I shake my head.

Brennan turns to the paper from my pocket. “This carries the seal of Dunne,” he says. “May I open it?”

I nod, gawking at the ring. It’s not just any ring on any finger. It’s the finger. But how? I was in the field battling Theophanie this afternoon, and then she desiccated and I burned myself straight into unconsciousness. Now it’s three a.m. and I’m in Aretia, and there are murdered dragons and riders, missing riders and missing eggs? Xaden wouldn’t do that.

Would he?

The storm of shadows. My blood chills. How far had he gone? I fling myself down the bond, but there’s nothing there. It’s gone.

Or he’s too far away to feel it, I remind myself to keep from panicking. When had he put this ring on my hand?

“It’s an official blessing of your legal, binding marriage,” Brennan whispers, stunned, then quickly rolls the parchment. “By the head priestess of Dunne’s temple.”

“To Xaden?” Gravity bends, warping everything I thought I knew into whatever this reality is.

Brennan nods.

My eyes flare. We’re married? A thousand emotions try to force their way through my jumbled thoughts, but the immediate rush of awe trips right over the logic of how. There’s no fucking way I’d forget something like that. Why isn’t he here? Where did he go? And why?

“I think the note on the outside is meant for you.” Brennan hands back the parchment.

I flip the missive over to see two sentences written in Xaden’s handwriting.

Don’t look for me. It’s yours now.

He’s gone.

I try to fumble my foggy brain through the overwhelming shock, but I can’t think straight. It’s like someone has fucked with my—

No.

My chest draws tight. “How long have I been missing?”

“Twelve hours,” Brennan answers.

“What did you do?” My head snaps toward Imogen, and a deep sense of foreboding takes root in my chest.

She slowly lifts her gaze to mine. “What you asked me to.”