Fourth Wing (The Empyrean, #1)

by Rebecca Yarros

“Stay the hell away from Xaden Riorson.” 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,”

You have to live, because Violet is watching. You can’t let her see you fall.

“Fascinating. You look all frail and breakable, but you’re really a violent little thing, aren’t you?”

“Going for blood today, are we, Violence?” he whispers. Metal hits the mat again and he kicks it past my head and out of my reach. He’s not taking my daggers to use against me; he’s disarming me just to prove he can. My blood boils. “My name is Violet,” I seethe. “I think my version fits you better.” He releases my wrist and stands, offering me a hand. “We’re not done yet.”

“He could never make a decision, and no one wants someone like that as their rider—” A blast of heat singes my back and I halt. Don’t be Ridoc. Don’t be— “Guess the dragons think she’s insufferable, too,” Ridoc mutters. Our squad is down to six first-years.

Fear ripples through every cell in my body as its hot breath blows over me. “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.

“My name is Tairneanach, son of Murtcuideam and Fiaclanfuil, descended from the cunning Dubhmadinn line.”

“You are the smartest of your year. The most cunning.” I gulp at the compliment, brushing it off. I was trained as a scribe, not a rider. “You defended the smallest with ferocity. And strength of courage is more important than physical strength. Since you apparently need to know before we land.”

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

“I’m over here keeping my hands and memories to myself because you asked me to, and you’re fucking me with your eyes. That’s not playing fair.” I drop my fork and everyone at the table turns to stare.

Xaden chokes. Every head in the dining hall turns his way, and Garrick pounds on his back until Xaden waves him off, taking a drink of his water. I grin, which earns me about six looks of confusion from our table and one set of rolled eyes from Liam. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“I mean, your aim is shit according to you, but I get the rest!” he calls out, falling behind.

“I’m going to keep you,” he promises, just like he did last night. Or was it this morning? “You’re mine, Violet.” I lift my chin. “Only if you’re mine.”

You can’t make me fall for you and then die. None of this is worth it without you.”