Fourth Wing (The Empyrean, #1)

by Rebecca Yarros

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

“I’m not going to die today.”

“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,”

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.

“I’m Dain Aetos, and I’m the leader for Second Squad, Flame Section, Second Wing.”

“Why, Dain Aetos.” I grin and walk toward him, then grasp the door handle at his side. “You’ve seen me in swimwear, tunics, and even ballgowns. Are you telling me it’s the leather that does it for you?”

You want a dragon? Earn one.”

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

“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.”

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

“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.”

“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.”

“They’re a mated pair, Tairn and Sgaeyl. The strongest bonded pair in centuries.”

There’s a disgusted roar of something I don’t understand in my head. “What the hell does that mean?” I scramble for the seat and get myself into position as he flies level. “The closest translation for humans is probably ‘for fuck’s sake.’ Now. Are you going to stay in your seat this time?” He dips back into formation, and I manage to stay on.

“Eventually you could call me Violet, you know.” I take the time to examine every row of his scales. One of the biggest dangers to dragons are the smallest things they can’t remove that penetrate between the scales, causing infection. “I know,” he repeats. “And I could call you Violence like the wingleader.” “You wouldn’t dare.” I narrow my eyes as I move forward, checking where his chest begins to rise. “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.”

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

Xaden studies me with an intensity that makes me sway toward him. “You are astonishing.” He shakes his head. “I couldn’t do that for weeks.”

“You never considered that it was you I couldn’t stay away from?”

“And is that still your plan?” Mira’s words have haunted me for two days. He flinches. “No.” “What changed?” Frustration tightens my grip on the mug. “When exactly did you decide not to ruin me?” “Maybe it was when I saw Oren holding a knife to your throat,” he says. “Or maybe it was when I realized the bruises on your neck were fingerprints and wanted to kill them all over again just so I could do it slowly. Maybe it was the first time I recklessly kissed you or when I realized I’m fucked because I can’t stop thinking about doing more than just kissing you.” My breath catches at his admission, but he just sighs, lets his head fall back against the wall. “Does it even matter when, as long as it changed between us?”

“You can ride me when the flesh rots off my bones, wingleader.” Well, that’s descriptive. “Look, there’s no rule against it. I checked. And if anything, you’ll be doing Tairn a favor by freeing all his power and taking the weight of worry off his mind. Mine too, if that helps matters.” My fingernails bite into my palms as I search for another reason, another excuse, but there isn’t one. I might not want to appear different than every other rider on this field, but I already am. “Fuck, that stubborn, feisty look always makes me want to kiss you.” Xaden’s expression remains bland, bored even, but his eyes heat as his gaze drops to my mouth. “And you say this now, where people will see if you actually do.” My breath catches. “When did I ever give you the impression that I give a fuck what people think about me?” A corner of his mouth rises, and now it’s all I can concentrate on, damn him. “I only care what they think about you.” Because he’s a wingleader. Nothing is worse than cadets gossiping that you’ve slept your way to safety. That’s what Mira warned at Parapet. “Mount up, Sorrengail. We have a battle to

“Fuck, that stubborn, feisty look always makes me want to kiss you.” Xaden’s expression remains bland, bored even, but his eyes heat as his gaze drops to my mouth. “And you say this now, where people will see if you actually do.” My breath catches. “When did I ever give you the impression that I give a fuck what people think about me?” A corner of his mouth rises, and now it’s all I can concentrate on, damn him. “I only care what they think about you.”

“I’m proud you’re mine.”

“Stop being so fucking honorable and fuck me, Xaden.”

“Don’t leave me.” “Never. I’ll burn him alive before he takes a single step toward you.”

“Should I get the wingleader?” Tairn flat-out laughs in my head.

“I have absolutely no intention of falling for you, Sorrengail.”

“Good.” I lean in and brush my lips over his. “Because I think I’m in love with you.” My heart beats erratically, and panic claws up my rib cage. I shouldn’t have said it. His eyes flare wide and his arms tighten around me. “You think? Or you know?” Be brave. Even if he doesn’t feel the same, at least I will have spoken my truth. “I know. I’m so wildly in love with you that I can’t imagine what my life would even look like without you in it. And I probably shouldn’t have said that, but if we’re doing this, then we’re starting from a place of complete honesty.”

“Which one are you calling out for?” he asks against my flesh. “Because it’s just you and me in this room, Vi, and I don’t share.”

“Thank you, Liam. Thank you for being my shadow. Thank you for being my friend.”

He blurs in my vision as the tears come faster. “It’s been. My honor.” Liam’s chest rattles as his lungs struggle.