Fourth Wing (The Empyrean, #1)

by Rebecca Yarros

A dragon without its rider is a tragedy. A rider without their dragon is dead.

the unwavering conviction that she belongs in the sky. She’s a rider through

“Stay the hell away from Xaden Riorson.”

my entire life for this day.” Dylan

He’s tall, with windblown black hair and dark brows. The line of his jaw is strong and covered by warm tawny skin and dark stubble, and when he folds his arms across his

torso, the muscles in his chest and arms ripple, moving in a way that makes me swallow. And his eyes… His eyes are the shade of gold-flecked onyx. The contrast is startling, jaw-dropping even—everything about him is. His features are so harsh that they look carved, and yet they’re astonishingly perfect, like an artist worked a lifetime sculpting him, and at least a year of that was spent on his mouth.

but he loses his grip on the water-slick stone and falls, disappearing from view. The wind and rain steal any sound his body might make in the valley below. They steal

the sound of my muffled cry, too. Xaden never takes his eyes from me, watching silently with a look I can’t interpret as I bring my horrified gaze back to his. “Why would I waste my energy killing you when the parapet will do it for me?” A wicked smile curves his lips. “Your turn.” There’s a misconception that it’s kill or be killed in the Riders Quadrant. Riders, as a whole, aren’t out to assassinate

My eyes widen. Xaden Riorson is kneeling before me,

suggesting that you sleep with me for safety from

“Ask me nicely, Violence,” he whispers. “Or I’m gone.”

Don’t be surprised if it slips. We’ll just start again.”