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Chapter 46 is LIVE.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58274413/chapters/172232746

Halden POV

Things said: "Ruin me."

Things done: hands, ice, thigh, teeth, restraint (barely).

Things not done: enough.

Good luck. 🌶️ Rated M for steamy hallway encounters, fully clothed yearning, and the most infuriating prince to ever break your soul in half.

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"I've been making plans, Lys," he murmurs, eyes glittering with mirth and something hungrier. "But if there's something specific your brilliant little mind's been obsessing over all day… I want to hear every. filthy. detail."

this week's word is...

How to play: Find the word in any WIP and share the sentence containing it. Reply, reblog, stick it in the tags, tag us in a new post, or keep it private. All fandoms, all ships, all writers welcome.

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me: sits down to write a transition chapter also me, 2k words later, kicking my feet and squealing into the void: WHY ARE THEY LIKE THIS 😭🔥❄️

chapter 46 (Halden's POV) is… oh it's loaded. It has: - flirty hallway banter - tragic past reflections - the softest hand-holding - the deadliest backless gown - and Halden absolutely not surviving any of it

i swear i was just trying to get them back to the party and then suddenly it's all "You're the death of me" and "Would be a shame to die now. I've only just started with you" and my personal favourite "Hmm, not sure. Is holding hands how babies are made? We delicate noble girls aren't taught much about those things. I might be in dire need of education from you, Halden." ??? ma'am???

pray for me, pray for Halden, chapter coming soon 🫠

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Elysande, my queen

"I don't want you to fix me. Or rescue me. Or rewrite the things that broke me." (in Chapter 45, Dragonborn - part II)

Because love shouldn't erase scars, it should stand with them.

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The chapter is up! This is it! aka the telescope scene.

Chapter 45. And if you thought I wouldn't give you angst, confession, AND a kiss that redefines everything? Oh sweet summer child. Featuring: ❄️ One very broody prince 👠 One reckless queen 💋 The kiss that’s been threatening to destroy us for 40 chapters.

GO READ NOW. I’ll be waiting with cocoa and emotional CPR.

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Was about to upload the next chapter: truly, I was! editing, polishing, final tweaks…

But then I did what any responsible writer/mother would do: I locked myself and my two-year-old out of the house. 🏡🔒🙃

With the rest of the family off at scouts camp, it’s now officially:

☀️ Playground Day!!

☕ Coffee shop snacks for survival (thank god I had my phone)

📖 And chapter updates… postponed by mild chaos.

BRB, parenting in the wild.

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The Isles are everything they promised to be: white sand beaches stretching endlessly into crystalline waters, lush green cliffs dotted with vibrant wildflowers, and the kind of stillness that makes it feel like the rest of the world has simply ceased to exist. It’s perfect. Too perfect, I think, as I curl over the edge of the bed in the villa, retching into the bucket Bodhi had brought over. «Morning sickness?» he asks, though it’s not really a question. His hand rubs soothing circles on my back, his touch steady and patient despite my groans. «Morning, afternoon, evening, middle-of-the-night sickness,» I mutter between dry heaves. The bile burns in my throat, and I collapse back onto the mattress, my hair sticking to my sweat-slick forehead.

extract from a draft long time ago (written before the Isles reveal of Onyx Storm. I'm a visionary)

this week's word is...

How to play: Find the word in any WIP and share the sentence containing it. Reply, reblog, stick it in the tags, tag us in a new post, or keep it private. All fandoms, all ships, all writers welcome.

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🚨Double Trouble Alert!🚨

Surprise! You're getting two new chapters today. First up: pure Bodhi chaos, featuring Cuir for the very first time (yes, it's unhinged, no, I won't apologise). For those who missed it, it was already on my Tumblr but now it's on AO3 too. Read here. Then, because I love you (and also because Halden’s emotional repression needed airtime): a full chapter full of yearning, simping, and a generous splash of dread. Die a little with me here.

Grab snacks. Feel free to yell at me in the comments.

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Bonus Chapter - Bodhi (after chapter 42)

So, in a delightfully twisted turn of events, someone casually mentioned they’d absolutely love a Bodhi spinoff from Dragonborn... and apparently, my brain took that as a personal challenge. Cut to this morning, when I sat down to write and… well, something happened. What came out is pure Bodhi chaos. Enjoy this bonus chapter (with Cuir for the first time!). Enjoy ☺️

🔥🕺🏽 🐉

"You're not marrying her." My voice scrapes, hoarse, low. "I don't care what Uncle Fen promised. You're not binding yourself to Cat just because your father carved a deal into your future when we were still sneaking out to play war in the hills with wooden swords."

Xaden sighs, doesn't look up from the ledger. This isn't our first fight about his betrothal, his trips to Aretia and Cordyn are being sponsored by Garrick's second signet—the kind I would kill for—but it's wearing him down. Eating at him. He's darker now, shadows clinging closer, like they're hollowing him out from the inside.

And the bastard is calm. Like this is just another meeting. Like we're not talking about shackling him to a conniving bitch.

"It's not binding, Bodhi. Not yet. Just… necessary. We're just seeing where this goes. If it could work out."

The word necessary sends a chill down my spine. I hear doors slamming. Her name spoken over a contract. A princess passed like a pawn.

I flinch before I can yell at him that it's definitely not working out for him.

"You know what that did to her?" My voice cracks open, sharp as a dagger. "What it's doing to her? And now you're—what—volunteering for the same fucking sentence?"

Xaden's jaw ticks. "Cat's not Elysande."

"No," I snarl. "Cat's happily throwing herself into the cage, because she's lusting over that crown you might not even claim. I'm not talking about Cat, you idiot."

His hands start to glow, energy bleeding out in slow, pulsing waves. The room dims, shadows curling inward, folding tight around us. And gods help me, I'm half-tempted to test Cuir's theory, reach out and see if I can temper that current I've just started noticing. That flow I've become hyperaware of. It hums beneath my skin now, every time a rider taps into their signet.

But before Xaden can launch into another tired excuse—It's my duty as heir, you wouldn't understand, I was raised for this, Elysande too, you had choices—there's another buzz of energy in the air. Garrick appears mid-stride, wild-eyed and rumpled and grinning like the devil. His hair is a windblown mess, jacket crooked, cheeks flushed. 

"Okay," he declares, breathless and triumphant, taking a seat on Xaden's bed, "I am officially a distance-wielding legend—because I was holding her, thinking of her bed, which I'd never even seen, and somehow we landed right on top of it. Nailed it."

He doesn't notice me at first. He's too busy shaking out one boot, muttering, "Also, you owe me hazard pay. Little El nearly broke me tonight. She's a fucking menace and apparently has combat training with a rope dart, which feels weirdly specific and wildly arousing."

Then he looks up. Sees Xaden's judgemental eyebrow. Sees me.

The grin fades. Instantly. The shift is total. A masterclass in regret.

"Oh… shit."

I don't move. I don't blink. The air has gone still, brittle as ice. Garrick's eyes flick between us: me, frozen, standing too stiff beside Xaden's desk, and Xaden, who now looks like he's about to pop a vein.

"You were with her," I say. Not a question.

Garrick's mouth opens. Closes. He holds up his hands, palms out like I'm a wild thing ready to strike. "Hey. Bodhi. Nothing happened."

I step forward once. My heart is a drumbeat I can't silence.

"You teleported her to her bed?" I don't like my tone, but can't seem to be able to rein it in. Because, if he did…

Across from me, Garrick shifts, visibly calculating how fast he'd have to move to dodge a blade if I drew it.

"You showed her your second signet?" Xaden's voice cuts my spiralling thoughts. "Seriously, Garrick?"

Garrick winces. "Yeah, well… she was kind of melting down in the middle of the woods and refusing to go near that cabin, which—" he looks straight at me. "—is a shrine to emotional scarring. So I improvised."

Xaden slams the ledger shut. "You improvised by revealing a classified ability?"

"She was shivering, and soaked—" Garrick starts, running a hand through his wrecked curls, "—and I figured if she gets caught and interrogated, my second signet would be the least of our problems. Also," he mutters, glaring at Xaden, "what did you expect me to do? Leave her alone like that in the middle of the fucking woods? I'm not a monster."

"She was soaked?"

My voice cracks. Shatters through the room like glass underfoot. I don't mean for it to sound so raw—so fragile—but it slips out anyway, torn from somewhere just behind my ribs.

Garrick's eyes flick to me. "She jumped in a lake. Fully clothed. It's kind of a good news, bad news situation."

I stare at him. At the way his smirk's vanished. At the faint flush still clinging to his cheekbones.

I can't breathe.

"She…" I can't finish it. My throat's closing. "What the fuck, Garrick?"

Garrick raises both hands like he's bracing for impact. "You want the good news first or the bad?"

I don't answer. Can't. I'm too busy drowning on dry land.

He doesn't wait.

"Good news? Halden hasn't touched your girlfriend."

My stomach flips. Not with relief. With dread. Because of the way he said yet, without even saying it.

"Bad news?" Garrick's voice softens, like that'll make any of it easier. "She wants him to."

I stagger. Visibly. I feel it echo in my bones.

Garrick doesn't stop.

"And she's also being force-fed some kind of fertility tonic. Apparently, it's the only thing she's taking in lately. Because she's stopped eating. Again. I can't believe I missed it."

"She stopped eating…" My mouth is bone dry. We all know what that means for Elysande. How fast this could spiral. "What's a fertility tonic?"

"Funny you should ask," he says, voice high with faux cheer.

Xaden waves a dismissive hand at me, "You don't want to know."

But I do. Gods help me, I do.

"Garrick," Xaden cuts him before he starts explaining, "you saw her when she was—?"

"—fucking glowing, yeah," Garrick interrupts, running a hand down his face like he's still recovering. "And I told her no." He points at himself, chest puffed. "Achievement unlocked. Then I tucked her into her bed like the godsdamned gentleman I am. Frankly, I deserve a medal. And a raise. For whatever absurd salary package you're cooking up for me once you steal back Tyrrendor." He pauses, then adds under his breath, "Fucking menace that girl."

I'm beginning to piece together what that fertility tonic might be, and I don't like it one bit.

I want to punch a wall. I want to scream. I want to fly straight to Calldyr and take her. Bring her to Aretia. To somewhere she could feel safe.

Cuir's voice slices into my mind like a blade dipped in ice.

"Don't drag me into half-formed plans that risk your life for sentiment." The words land hard. Disdain, coiled and quiet. "And don't assume I'll just carry someone on my back like a horse. Besides… Aretia's not safe for her. You're the one who said she was better off spending her life behind Navarre's wards."

My knees nearly buckle from the weight of the truth and his disappointment. 

"But you would, right?" I ask through the bond. A little desperate. Not too proud. "If it comes to it?"

Cuir doesn't answer right away. He lets the silence settle between us. In the background, I catch Garrick roasting Halden—something about impeccable timing and royal stupidity—but it barely registers.

"Not for any human," Cuir admits, deliberate and cold.

I swallow hard. My chest feels so fucking hollow. "Her?" I whisper across the bond, already bracing for more judgement.

But the tone shifts. "Yes." It's quiet. Reverent. "She'll make a remarkable rider."

It nearly undoes me. The breath I draw next trembles with the weight of it. From the few weeks I've known Cuir, I know he doesn't offer praise lightly. Doesn't speak of anyone that way. 

Except himself. Definitely not me.

Cuir's voice hums again, low and smug."You're right. I should praise you more. It would be like praising myself for having chosen right."A pause. Just long enough for the now familiar arrogance to bloom."Which I did."

My lips twitch, even as my eyes burn.

"But your ego’s already big enough. First in your year to channel, fastest in history to manifest a signet. Are we ready to finally let the rest of the class in on your little secret, or still playing mysterious prodigy?"

He knows my answer.

"I know. I just want to be sure your answer hasn't changed with this new development, considering this is exactly the kind of information that might end up on the Ice Prince's desk. And we both know his desk is watched like a dragon hoard. Might be a good time to remind her of your existence."

"My answer is still the same as this morning," I mutter through the bond, biting down the heat crawling up my throat.

"And it still doesn't make any sense," he fires back instantly.

"Still," I whisper, the word dragging like regret, "I'd rather be second. First ones get too much attention."

"Bodhi? You alright?" Garrick's voice slips in, low and careful. I blink, realise I've been standing there too long, eyes shut, breathing uneven.

"I swear, it was just the tonic. Made her… I don't know, burn or something." Burn? I blink, is he talking metaphorically, or is her fire back? "And yeah, I probably earned a punch or two for the way I ran my mouth. But it was too easy to rile her up and—"

He hesitates.

"You know I'd never cross that line."

My jaw tightens. The air feels too thin, the room too small.

"I know you wouldn't," I mutter. "And I don't care. She can do whatever the fuck she wants. With whoever." And I mean it. I do.

She's not mine. I ended it. I don't own her.

I remind myself again, harder: I don't own her.

"Right. Clearly. Unbothered." Xaden's mouth curve in that infuriating smirk.

"Oh, good to know," Garrick drawls, " then I won't feel bad next time she short-circuits because I gave her a command in that growly Bodhi voice. I mean, someone conditioned her to respond to—"

I turn without another word, shoving the door open so hard it rattles on its hinges.

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my underrated babies

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Garrick's monologue in Chapter 42.

"Don't look at me like that," he threatens, soft and broken and very, very clear. "I'm not—" "Yes, you bloody are," he scolds, stepping back just enough to pace, drag both hands through his hair like he's seconds from ripping it out.

I loved writing Garrick’s unhinged, morally-upstanding, slightly-panicking monologue so much it basically wrote itself. Hope you enjoy the chaos 💥 Read more below the cut, or here for the full chapter: (warnings: El's filthy mouth is back at it)

"You're looking at me like I'm the solution to a problem I really want to help with. And, El, if things were different, I'd volunteer in a heartbeat. You're a godsdamned twenty, and I have a serious weakness for women who own their hunger without apology. But you're high on some weird-ass tonic that's clearly hijacked your common sense. You can't give proper consent to any of the absolutely terrible ideas I shouldn't have. And for fuck's sake you're Bodhi's ex. Xaden's little sister. Also—married. So please, for both our sanities, stop looking at me like that and let me get some blood back into my brain."

"Okay, okay," I bite the inside of my cheek as I drag my feet over to Storm, grabbing my coat back. "No more looking. I'll stare at that tree over there instead." I squint at a pine trunk like it holds the answers to my soul.

"But for the record," I purr, draping my coat over one shoulder, "I'm not technically married and, when someone earns it, I'm capable of extremely enthusiastic gratitude. The kind that starts on my knees and include tongue."

His groan could level kingdoms. "Not fair, El. Not even remotely fair."

I lean against Storm, clutching the reins just tight enough to not reach for Garrick instead. "I said I'd stop looking."

"Yeah, well. Then you opened your mouth and made it worse."

I dare a glance back. He's flushed. Neck pink, ears red, eyes wild. Pretty sure his leathers grew a size smaller. And I'd laugh if I wasn't vibrating in my boots.

"I'm beginning to understand," he growls, jabbing a finger in my general direction, "why Bodhi walks around like someone ripped out half his soul. And why Halden, fucking Halden, probably saw what was coming and bolted like the poor bastard he is."

"You're saying I'm terrifying?"

"I'm saying you're dangerous," he snaps, then winces. "No, not like that, not in a bad way. Just…fuck. El, you're the kind of trouble they write songs about. Cautionary songs. With people not being able to walk straight for days."

Heat licks up my spine. "Well," I murmur, feigning innocence, "I do enjoy music."

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Unhinged chapter 42 online!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58274413/chapters/170849434

This one? Absolutely feral. Unhinged. Deliriously fertility-tonic-fuelled chaos. El is spiralling and aching, Garrick is infuriatingly smug and entirely too handsome, Osric is doing his absolute best (in sword pyjamas no less), and Halden? Oh, he’s gone and the silence is screaming.

💔 grief 🔥 tension (sexual and otherwise) 🛏 accidental teleportation right onto the fucking bed 🗡 rope dart threats 🫢 one too many "good girl" moments for El's sanity

Come for the angst, stay for the banter. And maybe throw a pillow at Garrick on your way out. El certainly did.

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me: lovingly side-eyeing the glasses I’ve had since uni. pfft I’m still young, vibrant, my vision’s perfect. also me: trying to read my book like I’ve just unearthed a forbidden text in a tomb, lit only by moonlight and denial On an other hand, I'm reading Problematic Summer Romance, and loving it (I am currently going through an Ali Hazelwood phase).

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About that chapter

Me: just going to reread a little of that Elysande and Garrick chapter to check for typos. Also me: 👀 🫠 🧎‍♀️ 😩 "good girl"...I wrote that?? Who let me?? (ok, I just read Deep End... it shows)

I blinked and suddenly Garrick is manhandling her onto her own bed like it’s a public service. The dialogue?? ILLEGAL.

This man is in complete denial of his feelings for Imogen and teleporting and teasing and somehow respecting consent while also making me want to lie face-down in a puddle of my own emotions.

- Garrick said "You’re looking at me like I'm the solution to a problem I really want to help with" and I wrote that?? - Elysande's body betraying her because of a fertility tonic I invented? And also... ovulation peak. I need to go lie down. - I made Garrick smirk like that. Me. I am the problem.

Anyway. I need to go do taxes or touch grass or maybe write the next chapter. Because apparently I am both author and victim. PS: if you ask me nicely, I can share my favourite part of that deeply unhinged conversation.

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Garrick secret meeting with El

Garrick groans again, dragging both hands through his hair. "This is not sustainable. I’m going to combust. Or fall in love. Possibly both." "You can’t. You have Imogen." I go still. So does he. "What about Imogen?" he asks, slower now, like he’s stepping carefully through a minefield he didn’t know existed. "Why would that—" He breaks off. Blinks. "Wait. You think I’m—? No. Gods, no." I swallow, but my mouth is desert-dry. "Imogen and I aren’t—" He gestures wildly, then stops. Breathes. "Where the hell did that even come from?" I bite my lip. "Sorry, I’m clearly delirious tonight." Lie.

I'm having a little fun with unaware/denial Garrick in next El POV chapter.

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Chapter 41 - Bodhi's conscription day POV is online

"Half brother?" he asks casually.  I grit my teeth. "Cousin." He raises a brow. "You sure? You're the fucking portrait of him." "I get that a lot," I mutter, already stepping past him and bracing for a dozen more comments just like this. That is, if I make it to the other side.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58274413/chapters/170421844

Alright, I may have gotten a little carried away wandering around inside Bodhi’s gloriously chaotic, heartbreak-addled head. Honestly? I’d follow him through a whole spinoff at this point, rage, regret, and all. Hope you enjoyed the detour! Don’t worry, we’ll be slipping back into El’s fire-forged POV very soon!

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Bodhi's conscription day! Oh, it's also Imogen's! and Quinn's! and... Dain's 😅

I open my mouth to reply, but the senior wingleader at the front of the sorting dais clears his throat and booms the next name. "Dain Aetos. Fourth Wing, Flame Section, Second Squad." A tall, brown-haired guy strides forward. Something about him rings a bell, but the name doesn’t click before the next one’s called. "Quinn Hollis. Fourth Wing, Flame Section, Second Squad." Imogen turns to the blond beside her, the one she talked to climbing the turret steps. "Not Xaden's squad," she mutters, "but I’d bet my boots he got us placed together." The girl’s green eyes light up. "Fingers crossed. I need backup if I’m going to survive Golden Boy over there." Imogen snorts. "Please. He walks like he’s got a sword sheath wedged somewhere personal. Probably a very disappointing ride. Bet he’ll have a tragic beard and a superiority complex before Threshing."