Fourth Wing (The Empyrean, #1)

by Rebecca Yarros

“Am I affecting your schedule, Violence?” There’s a definite smirk on those lips. “I just need to know what my chances are here.” My hands curl into fists. The ass has the nerve to smile. “That’s the oddest way I’ve ever been hit on—”

You want to know why you’re still alive? Because you’re the scale I currently judge myself against every night. Every day I let you live, I get to convince myself that there’s still a part of me that’s a decent person. So if you want to quit, then please, spare me the temptation and fucking quit. But if you want to do something, then do it.”

“The right way isn’t the only way. Figure it out.” Then he turns and walks away. Fuck. Him.

“What changed between Parapet and now?” Dain asks again, a wealth of emotions in his eyes that I can’t begin to interpret. Well, except the fear. That doesn’t need any interpretation. “Me.”

His eyes flare, and I don’t miss the hint of a smirk on that infuriatingly decadent mouth of his. It should be against the Codex to look that good and be so ruthless. “The right way isn’t the only way.” I use his own words against him. Xaden holds my gaze. “She has you, Amber.” “On a technicality!”

Xaden. For the first time, the sight of him fills my chest with hope. He won’t let this happen. He might hate me, but he’s a wingleader. He can’t just watch them kill a dragon.

“You can’t interfere!” Tynan shouts at Xaden, but I don’t dare look away from my opponent long enough to see how the wingleader reacts. “No, but I can narrate,” Xaden retorts.

“Step aside, Silver One,” a deep, gruff, definitely male voice orders. I blink. Wait. What? Did he just speak to me? “Yes. You. Move.” There’s zero room for argument in his tone, and I limp to the side, nearly stumbling over Oren’s unconscious body as Tynan breaks into a screaming run, fleeing for the trees.

“It will do.” He tilts his head at me. “Your hands are bound, too. Do you bleed often?” “I try not to.” He scoffs. “Let’s go, Violet Sorrengail.” He lifts his head, and the golden dragon peeks out from under his wing.

“And to think, I’d almost forgotten just how loquacious humans are.” He sighs, the gust of his breath rattling the trees. “Get on my back.” Oh. Shit. He’s choosing…me. “Get on your back?” I repeat like a fucking parrot. “Have you seen you? Do you have any idea how huge you are?” I’d need a damned ladder to get up there.

The look he gives me can only be described as annoyance. “One does not live a century without being well aware of the space one takes up. Now get on.”

“You’re making us look bad. Stop it.”

“Now get in the seat and actually hold on this time, or no one is going to believe that I’ve actually chosen you,” he growls.

“I know exactly who and what you are, Violet Sorrengail.”

He’s doing this. He’s holding me in place. Guilt settles in my stomach. I should have focused more on strength training for my legs. I should have spent more time preparing myself for this. He shouldn’t have to spend his energy on keeping his rider seated. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t think I’d make it this far.”

My body is wrenched this way and that as he completes turn after turn, pulling us out of the dive only to bank so hard, I swear the land becomes the sky, then repeats it all until my face splits into a grin. There is nothing like this. “I think we made our point.”

“Both dragons?” she squawks. I nod. And all hell breaks loose.

“Stay close to the wingleader until we return,” Tairn orders. Surely he meant to say squad leader. “You heard what I said.” Or not.

tairn biggest violet xaden shipper

killed. You take Tairn, and Xaden will get you killed. You think Melgren is terrifying? I’ve been here for a year longer than you have, Vi. At least you know what you’re getting when it comes to Melgren. Xaden isn’t only twice as ruthless, but he’s dangerously unpredictable.” I blink. “Wait. What are you saying?” “They’re a mated pair, Tairn and Sgaeyl. The strongest bonded pair in centuries.”

Heat rushes through every vein, wakes every nerve ending. I hate the reaction of my body to the sight of him, but I can’t deny it. His appeal is so fucking inconvenient.

He turns that stare on me, and I feel the impact all the way to my toes. “And I would do it again.” I raise my chin. “Well-the-fuck-aware,” Xaden roars, losing his temper for the first time since I met him on Parapet.

so true!!! vi piss him off 🤭

Xaden had taken a step. Right before Tairn landed, he’d moved…toward me.

“I’m ordering you to answer, squad leader.” Xaden doesn’t even spare me a glance. Dain swallows, his eyes slamming shut. “No. I wouldn’t have.” My heart hits the ground. I’ve always known deep down that Dain valued rule and order more than relationships, more than me, but to have it so cruelly displayed cuts deeper than Tynan’s sword. Xaden scoffs. Dain immediately jerks his head toward mine. “It would have killed me to watch something happen to you, Vi, but the rules—” “It’s all right,” I force out, touching his shoulder, but it isn’t.

“Each time a dragon chooses a rider, that bond is stronger than the last, which means that if you die, Violence, it sets off a chain of events that potentially ends with me dying, too.” His expression is immovable marble, but the anger in his eyes leaves me breathless. It’s pure…rage. “So yeah, unfortunately for everyone involved, there’s now an us if the Empyrean lets Tairn’s choice stand.”

I’m tethered to Xaden Riorson.

He sighs again like it’s his new full-time job. “There are forty-one unbonded riders for which you are now target number one.” He holds up a single finger. “And Tairn thinks you’ll play bodyguard.” I snort. “Little does he know just how much you dislike me.” “He knows exactly how much I value my own life,” Xaden retorts, glancing down my body. “You’re freakishly calm for someone who just heard she’s about to be hunted.”

I belong to Tairn and Andarna…and, in some really fucked-up way…Xaden. My scalp prickles, and I glance across the field at him. As if sensing my gaze, he looks over and holds up a single finger. Target number one.

He’d do anything. Except break the rules.

The thrill is gone in less than a heartbeat. There’s no heat. No energy. No sharp slice of lust. Disappointment sours the moment,

It was everything I’ve ever wanted…except… Shit. I don’t want it anymore.

“Absolutely! It’s yours!” A couple of guys from Tail Section scurry off the bench. “Sorry, Sorrengail!” the other says over his shoulder as they find another table, leaving this one empty.

My gaze snaps to Xaden, and my chest tightens. So. Freaking. Beautiful. Apparently my body doesn’t care that he’s as dangerous as they come in the quadrant, because heat rushes through my veins, flushing my skin.

Xaden Riorson is now in the business of keeping his mortal enemy alive.

“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.”

“That’s two rules.” I’m starting to think my first guess about them is right. With that kind of fierce loyalty, they have to be lovers. I am not jealous. Nope. That pit of ugliness spreading inside my chest isn’t jealousy. It can’t be.

“And you know how much that ass annoys me.” “Annoys you?” Tairn chuckles above me, the sound like a chuffing cat. “Is that what you call it when your heart rate—” “Don’t even start with me.”

“You’re a menace. Stop it,” I say. “Tell him if he harms you, I’ll scorch the ground where he stands.” “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Tairn.” I roll my eyes and walk to Dain, whose jaw is locked, but his eyes are wide with apprehension. “Tell him, or I’ll take it up with Cath.” “Tairn says if you harm me, he’ll burn you,” I say as dragons to the left and right launch skyward without their riders, headed back to the Vale. But not Tairn. Nope, he’s still standing behind me like an overprotective dad. “I’m not going to harm you!” Dain snaps. “Word for word, Silver One.” I blow a breath out slowly. “Sorry, he actually said, if you harm me, he’ll scorch the ground where you stand.”

his gaze shifts to my throat and narrows at what I imagine has to be the purple imprint of a hand. “I should have killed him slower.” “I’m fine.” I’m not. His focus snaps back to my eyes. “Never lie to me.” He says it with such ferocity, bit out through gritted teeth, that I can’t help but nod in promise.

“Thank you,” Xaden says, then flicks his hand and my door shuts with a soft click. “Now, let me see your ribs. We’re wasting time.”

something that reminds me of raw hunger flitters across his expression before he locks it down, drawing my hair over my shoulder with surprising gentleness.

He wasn’t lying. He absolutely knows his way around a corset.

I do, tugging my nightdress back over my shoulders, and he drops to his knees on the floor before me. My eyes widen. Xaden Riorson is kneeling before me, his black hair at the perfect level for me to run my fingers through the thickness.

I nod, lifting my foot. Then he robs me of every logical thought by putting on my boots and lacing them one at a time.

“Let’s go.” He wraps my cloak around my shoulders and buttons it at my collar like I’m something precious. Now I know I’m in shock because I’m anything but precious to Xaden Riorson.

Point taken. Not that we’re a couple. Not that I wouldn’t climb the man like a tree if presented with the right set of circumstances.

But in my defense, and in a sick, twisted way, his rescue was pretty damned hot,

“And if you even think about suggesting that you sleep with me for safety from now on—” He scoffs. “Hardly. I don’t fuck first-years—even when I was one—let alone…you.” “Who said anything about fucking?”

“I’d have to be a masochist to sleep with you, and I can assure you, I’m not.” Fantasizing about it doesn’t count. “Masochist, huh?” A corner of his mouth quirks into a smirk. “You hardly give off snuggly morning-after vibes.” A smile of my own curves my lips. “Unless you’re worried about me killing you while we sleep.” We round a corner, and the tunnel continues.

I don’t want to be grateful for anything when it comes to him, but man if that minty scent of his isn’t delicious. “What were you doing tonight anyway?” “What makes you ask?” His tone clearly insinuates that I shouldn’t.

He snorts, a flash of a smile appearing for a heartbeat. A real one. Not the fake, forced sneer I’m used to seeing or the cocky little smirk. An honest, heart-stopping smile that I’m anything but immune to.