“I love you. The world does not exist for me beyond you.”

"I love you," I whisper. "You could throw my entire world into upheaval, and I would still love you. You could keep secrets, run a revolution, frustrate the shit out of me, probably ruin me, and I would still love you. I can't make it stop. I don't want to. You're my gravity. Nothing in my world works without you."

Iron Flame is a nonstop-thrilling adventure fantasy set in the brutal and competitive world of a military college for dragon riders, which includes elements regarding war, psychological and physical torture, imprisonment, intense violence, brutal injuries, perilous situations, blood, dismemberment, burning, murder, death, animal death, graphic language, loss of family, grief, and sexual activities that are shown on the page. Readers who may be sensitive to these elements, please take note, and prepare to join the revolution...

He angled his head in challenge. “You see it now, Eden? You see me for who I really am?”
“I’ve seen you all along.” The whisper curled through the dense air.
On a scoff, Trent climbed to his feet. A menacing refuge in the billowing night. “And just what is it you see, Eden?”
The last time he asked me it, he walked away from me.
Fear tumbled down my spine, a cold sweat that shivered across my flesh. Not because I was afraid of him, but because I was afraid of the power he wielded.
I lifted my chin and met his steely gaze. “I see a man who’s touched me in a way no one else can. I see a man who burns so bright, he might burn me alive. I see a hatred that runs so deep in his veins, and still, I want to dip my fingertips into the flow.”

My chest tightened when I felt that presence at the doorway.
Struck by the lash of energy that I now recognized for what it was.
Goodness.
Grace.

A low, disbelieving chuckle rumbled to my side, and I swung my attention to Logan who caught me in the vicious act of trying not to spiral.
“Dude, you have literal fucking hearts in your eyes, all while looking like you’re about five seconds from packing up and running for the hills. Quite the accomplishment, if you’re asking me.”
“Wasn’t asking you,” I grunted, breathing out a heavy sigh when I moved to join him at the sink.

I could no longer see. Could no longer make sense of the mess I had made.
Instead, I heaved for air in a bid to come back down, to remember who I was, but at the end of that fall was her arms.
Her sweet arms that she wrapped around my body like that was where they belonged.
Couldn’t do much else except wrap her in mine, and I shifted us so I could tuck her to my side. I pressed a kiss to her sweat-drenched temple and brushed back the blonde hair that clung to her stunning face. I gazed at her through the shadows of the ghosts that haunted my room.
“Won’t let anyone get to you. Not ever.”
And I prayed it wasn’t the greatest lie I’d ever told.

Eh bien, je ne m'explique pas comment je suis tombé amoureux de... Mlle Kristensen. Je le suis, tout simplement. J'ai appris à la connaître, elle est d'abord devenue mon amie, mon soutien dans ces moments difficiles, une présence avec qui je m'entendais bien. Les mois ont passé, Vic était là lorsque ça n'allait pas, elle était là pour m'offrir du réconfort, des mots, du courage. Elle était cet éclat de lumière dans notre obscurité. Mon ancre pour ne pas dériver, ma bouée pour ne pas couler, ma pierre pour ne pas m'envoler, ma bouffée d'air frais pour respirer, la personne qui me faisait croire qu'un jour, un lendemain serait meilleur. Si je suis encore vivant aujourd'hui, assis à la barre pour témoigner, je le dois à Mlle Kristensen. Elle n'était pas seulement mon amie, elle a été la femme dont je suis tombé amoureux, celle qui m'a donné le courage de survivre même quand ça n'allait plus. Je lui dois tout, et je ne devrais pas avoir à me justifier. Ce n'est pas un crime d'aimer quelqu'un, mais c'est un crime de briser quelqu'un que vous aimez. Cooper Truman nous a détruits, il n'a aucune excuse, et tout ce qui sort de sa bouche n'est que mensonge. Par contre, je peux vous expliquer comment on fait pour survivre lorsqu'on est deux. Je peux vous expliquer que la lutte est plus simple lorsqu'on est deux.

Xaden points toward the navy dragon and leans forward slightly, like he’s letting us in on a secret as we lock eyes. “To them, you’re just the prey.”

“They choose for reasons they don’t see fit to share with us.” He pushes off his desk. “And not all strength is physical, Violet.”

This place can warp almost everything about a person, Vi. It cuts away the bullshit and the niceties, revealing whoever you are at your core.

Gets-you-into-trouble-and-you-like-it level of hot.

“Ditch the books. Dad can’t save you. He tried. I tried. Decide, Violet. Are you going to die a scribe? Or live as a rider?”

“Stay close to the wingleader until we return,” Tairn orders. Surely he meant to say squad leader.

“Dragon relationships are absolutely incomprehensible.”
“Yeah? You should try a human one sometime. Just as vicious, but less fire.”

It should be against the Codex to look that good and be so ruthless.

“There are a dozen of these daggers strapped to my body, so start disarming me.” He lifts a sardonic brow. “Unless you don’t know how to handle an opponent on top of you, and if so, that’s a whole other issue.”
“I know how to handle you on top of me,” I challenge quietly.
He lowers his mouth to my ear. “You won’t like what happens if you push me.”
“Or maybe I will.”

The air rushes from my lungs. That name… “That Xaden Riorson,” she confirms, fear lacing her gaze. “He’s a third-year, and he will kill you the second he finds out who you are.” “His father was the Great Betrayer. He led the rebellion,” I say quietly. “What is Xaden doing here?” “All the children of the leaders were conscripted as punishment for their parents’ crimes”

Stop. Fucking. Coddling. Her.

“Scream and you die,” he whispers, and my stomach plummets as the elbow is replaced by the sharp bite of a dagger at my throat.
I freeze. I’d recognize the rough pitch of Xaden’s voice anywhere.
“Fucking Sorrengail.”

Then he guides our hands back to my ribs and slides the ruby-hilted blade back into its sheath.
The move is unnervingly…hot.
“You’re not going to disarm me?” I challenge as he releases his grip and pushes up more, removing his weight from my body. My ribs expand as I take my first full breath.
“Nope. Defenseless women have never been my type.”

It takes one generation to change the text. One generation chooses to teach that text. The next grows, and the lie becomes history.

They’re accommodations for me. I’ve seen your memories. I’m not about to have you sticking daggers into my leg to climb up. Now let’s go.

And when others are quick to stand in front of me, Xaden always stands at my side, trusting me to hold my own.

“Your arm is shot, Sorrengail,” Tynan hisses, his face pale and sweaty. “I’m used to functioning in pain, asshole. Are you?” I raise the dagger in my right hand just to prove that I can despite the blood that runs down my arm and drips from the tip of my blade, saturating the wrap across my palm. My gaze drops meaningfully to his side.