Fourth Wing (The Empyrean, #1)

by Rebecca Yarros

He’s using a dagger to peel an apple, removing the rind in one long curl, and the blade continues its path as his eyes lift, locking with mine. My whole head tingles.

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

“It’s easy when the second home is the right one.”

“Is that what you call it when your heart rate—” “Don’t even start with me.”

“Tell him if he harms you, I’ll scorch the ground where he stands.”

“Tairn says if you harm me, he’ll burn you,”

“The reason we’ll never be anything more than friends isn’t because of your rules. It’s because you have no faith in me. Even now, when I’ve survived against all odds and bonded not just one dragon but two, you still think I won’t make it. So forgive me, but you’re about to be some of the bullshit that this place cuts away from me.”

He can read minds—an inntinnsic. His power is a death sentence.

“Mine!” Andarna screams.

I blink and realize the first-year in front of me doesn’t. She isn’t breathing. Isn’t moving. No one is. Everyone in this room is frozen in place…except me.

“You’re all fucking dead.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Come on, Violence.”

Before I can argue that point, 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 know how to handle a corset.”

;))))))

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

he drops to his knees on the floor before me.

Xaden Riorson is kneeling before me, his black hair at the perfect level for me to run my fingers through the thickness.

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

“A signet is a combination of our power with your own ability to channel. It reflects who you are at the core of your being.”

“But I gave my gift directly to you. Because I’m still a feathertail.”

“And I’m not sure anyone lets Andarna do anything.”

“Touch me without permission, and you’ll spend the rest of your life regretting it.”

“I’ve seen you practicing this week with those blades of yours, Sorrengail. Riorson was right. You would have been wasted as a scribe.”

“And it’s all right that you ask. Someone should know. Someone should remember.”

“I’ve never seen anyone move the way he does. He’s the only reason I made it through the first round of challenges. He might not show it, but he takes care of his own.”

“You are slightly stuck with him for…” He makes a face. “Well, forever.”

“Good answer. All I can say is that your survival is essential to Riorson’s, and I owe him everything. Everything.”

“I swear, you’d think there were assassination attempts on me during every class with the way he makes you shadow me.”

“They’re just threats. The only time I’ve actually been targeted was at night, and it’s not like Liam here is sleeping in my bedroom.” “I mean, I’m not opposed—” he begins, his knife hovering over the piece of wood. “Don’t even start.” I whip my head to face him and can’t help but laugh. “You are a shameless flirt.”

“Oh, are we telling dick jokes now?” Ridoc asks from Liam’s side. “Because my entire life has led up to this very moment.”

“He warded your door,” Liam says, quieter this time. “So only you can open it.”

Imogen calls from the next mat over, where she casually holds Ridoc in a headlock, waiting for him to tap out.

Xaden and Garrick have stripped off their shirts and are sparring like their lives depend on it, a blur of kicks, punches, and rippling muscle. I’ve never seen two people move that fast.

Every edge of Xaden’s body is honed like a weapon, all sharp lines and barely leashed power. His rebellion relic twists around his upper body and stands out against the deep bronze of his skin, accentuating every punch he throws, and his stomach… I mean, how many muscles are there in the abdominals?

Garrick’s wider, more densely packed with muscle than Xaden, his rebellion relic only extending to his shoulder, the second largest I’ve seen. Only Xaden’s reaches his carved jawline.

“Stop objectifying our wingleader,” Liam teases.

If I attack Jack now, they’ll kill him. Garrick’s hulking frame appears to the left, and I begrudgingly add him to my list of protectors. Hell,

lift my chin, but it’s Xaden who fills my vision as he steps between us. The fury in his eyes is palpable, but I don’t retreat.

“I am annoyingly aware of everything you do.”

“Do us both a favor and put the fucking armor back on,” he finishes.

Silver lines I instantly recognize as scars.

“You held your own and controlled your temper,” Tairn says, an immense swell of pride flooding my chest. “She’s ready,” Andarna adds with a giddy jolt of joy that makes me instantly light-headed. “She’s ready,” he agrees.

Tairn’s emotions aren’t just overwhelming me; they’re controlling me.

Gods, I could stare at his lips forever. They are perfectly shaped and yet entirely too decadent for the slashing line of his jaw.

Xaden, while brooding and bossy, dangerous and lethal, is a toe-curling sight that makes my pulse quicken.

But Xaden laughing, his head thrown back with a smile curving his mouth, is drop-dead beautiful.

While I’d admired Liam upstairs, I am completely, utterly obsessed with Xaden.

Same

“Oh, Violence, you’re going to have to learn to shield against Tairn or his escapades with Sgaeyl will drive you mad—or into someone’s bed.”

I tilt my chin. Gods, I barely reach his collarbone.