Fourth Wing (The Empyrean, #1)

by Rebecca Yarros

Don’t borrow tomorrow’s trouble.

“Tairn’s awake,” I manage to say, clutching my stomach like I’m the one who craves a flock of sheep. Or goats. Or whatever he decides for the morning. “Good gods, please go eat something.” “The same could be suggested to you,” he snarls. “Such a morning person, aren’t you?”

Never wanted someone the way I do him. It’s exhilarating and terrifying at the same time because I know that in this moment, he has the power to break me. And I’d let him.

“He wasn’t amenable to me giving it a test flight.” “You can ride me when the flesh rots off my bones, wingleader.”