Fourth Wing (The Empyrean, #1)

by Rebecca Yarros

The following text has been faithfully transcribed from Navarrian into the modern language by Jesinia Neilwart, Curator of the Scribe Quadrant at Basgiath War College. All events are true, and names have been preserved to honor the courage of those fallen. May their souls be commended to Malek.

I beg your biggest pardon

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

“What are you doing?” “What Brennan did for me,” she says softly,

Decide, Violet. Are you going to die a scribe? Or live as a rider?”

“Stay the hell away from Xaden Riorson.”

“Don’t die, Violet. I’d hate to be an only child.”

With a name like Sorrengail, I bet you were the first to volunteer this year.” “I was more like volun-told.” My answer is far less enthusiastic than hers.

The third turns in my direction and my heart simply…stops. 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. He’s the most exquisite man I’ve ever seen. And living in the war college means I’ve seen a lot of men.

“Are you going to kill me?” I lift my chin another inch. His gaze clashes with mine as the sky opens and rain falls in a deluge, soaking my hair, my leathers, and the stones around us in seconds. A scream rends the air, and Rhiannon and I both jerk our attention to the parapet just in time to see Dylan slip. I gasp, my heart jolting into my throat. He catches himself, hooking his arms over the stone bridge as his feet kick beneath him, scrambling for a purchase that isn’t there. “Pull yourself up, Dylan!” Rhiannon shouts. “Oh gods!” My hand flies to cover my 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.”

I will not die today.

Was it the rain? The wind?

General Sorrengail? 😃

Xaden watches me with a cold, calculating look that feels like he’s plotting my death from where he stands as the wingleader for Fourth Wing. I lift my chin. He cocks his scarred eyebrow.

We’re moving to Fourth Wing. Xaden’s wing.

You want a dragon? Earn one.”

Steam blasts my face as the navy-blue one directly in front of me exhales through its wide nostrils.

“Because you’re not untouchable or special to them.” Xaden points toward the navy dragon and leans forward slightly, like he’s letting us in on a secret as we lock eyes. “To them, you’re just the prey.”

Don’t borrow tomorrow’s trouble.

“Better than being dead,” the smart-ass says as he passes us on the right, his dark-brown hair flopping against the brown skin of his forehead with every step the shorter cadet takes. His name is Ridoc, if I remember correctly from the brief introductions we went through before dinner last night.

Or do you honestly think he’ll stab me in the middle of Battle Brief?” “I wouldn’t put it past him. He’s fucking ruthless, Violet. Why do you think his dragon chose him?” “The navy-blue one who landed behind the dais yesterday?” My stomach twists. The way those golden eyes assessed me… Dain nods. “Sgaeyl is a Blue Daggertail, and she’s…vicious.” He swallows. “Don’t get me wrong. Cath is a nasty piece of work when he gets riled—all Red Swordtails are—but even most dragons steer clear of Sgaeyl.”

Ridoc is easy to remember—he cracked wise-ass comments all through history.

The curtain whips back and Nolon walks in, leaning heavily on his cane. He smiles at his wife, his bright white teeth contrasting his brown skin. “You sent for me, my—” His smile falters as he sees me. “Violet?” “Hi, Nolon.” I force my mouth to curve upward. “I’d wave, butone ofmyarms doesn’t workand theother feels realllllyheavy.” Good gods, am I slurring my words? “Leigheas serum.” Winifred offers her husband a crooked smile.

“I’mnotgoingtothesibes.” So much for not slurring. “Sibes,” I try again. “SIBES.” Oh, fuck it. “Mendme.” “I will always mend you,” Nolon promises. “Just. This. Once.”

Brennan wrote this for me the summer before I entered the quadrant. It saved me, and it can save you, too. I added my own bits of hard-earned wisdom here and there, but mostly it’s his, and I know he’d want you to have it. He’d want you to live. Love, Mira.

Damn it, I don’t want to find a single thing about Xaden Riorson admirable, and yet here he is, being all annoyingly admirable. Asshole.

Liam Mairi. He’s in Second Squad, Tail Section of our wing and already the top cadet in our year. He practically ran across the parapet and destroyed every opponent on assessment day.

“Let me guess, you could smell my perfume. Isn’t that what always gives the heroine away in books?” He scoffs. “I command shadows, but sure, it was your perfume that gave you away.”

“What, Aetos hasn’t warned you not to get caught alone in the dark with me yet?”

“That stance is really the best defense you can muster? No wonder Imogen nearly ripped your arm off.” “I’m more dangerous than you think,” I flat-out bluster. “So I see. I’m quaking in my boots.” The corner of his mouth rises into a mocking smirk. Fucking. Asshole.

I flip the daggers in my hand, pinching them at the tips, then flick my wrists and fire them past his head, one on each side. They land solidly in the trunk of the tree behind him. “You missed.” He doesn’t even flinch. “Did I?” I reach for my last two blades. “Why don’t you back up a couple of steps and test that theory?” Curiosity flares in his eyes, but it’s gone in the next second, masked by cold, mocking indifference. Every one of my senses is on high alert, but the shadows around me don’t slide in as he moves backward, his eyes locked with mine. His back hits the tree, and the hilts of my daggers brush his ears. “Tell me again that I missed,” I threaten, taking the dagger in my right hand by the tip.

“Fascinating. You look all frail and breakable, but you’re really a violent li...

“We’ll see if you keep your word, and if you do, then unfortunately, it looks like I owe you a favor.” Then he steps away, turns, and walks off, heading back toward the staircase in the cliff that leads up to the citadel. Wait. What? “You’re not going to handle me?” I call after him, shock raising my brows. “Not tonight!” he tosses over his shoulder. I scoff. “What are you waiting for?” “It’s no fun if you expect it,” he answers, striding into the darkness. “Now, get back to bed before your wingleader realizes you’re out after curfew.” “What?” I gawk after him. “You’re my wingleader!” But he’s already disappeared into the shadows, leaving me talking to myself like a fool.

“You won’t have to worry about how to approach blue dragons, since there are none willing to bond this Threshing, but you should be able to recognize Sgaeyl if you see her,” Professor Kaori says. “So you can fucking run,” Ridoc drawls.

“Violet,” Professor Kaori calls out, and I pivot to look back. “I taught both your siblings. A signet like mine is too useful here in the classroom to let me deploy with a wing for long. Brennan was a spectacular rider and a good man. Mira is shrewd and gifted in the seat when it comes to riding.” I nod. “But you’re smarter than both of them.” I blink. It’s not often I get compared to my brother and sister and somehow come out on top. “From what I’ve seen of you helping your friend study in commons every night, it seems you might be more compassionate, too. Don’t forget that.” “Thank you, but being smart and compassionate isn’t going to help me when it comes to Threshing.” A self-deprecating laugh escapes. “You know more about dragons than anyone else in the quadrant, probably anyone else on the Continent. They choose strength and shrewdness.” “They choose for reasons they don’t see fit to share with us.” He pushes off his desk. “And not all strength is physical, Violet.”

“I’m going to be fine,” I recite, because that’s my fucking mantra.

“I honestly hope you win today’s challenge.” His eyes dance with a sadistic glee that makes me queasy. “It would be a shame for someone else to kill you before I get the chance. But I wouldn’t be surprised. Violets are such delicate…fragile things, you know.” Delicate, my ass. He’d probably think twice about plotting your murder if you threw a few daggers at his head. I unsheathe both daggers from my ribs and flick them in his direction in one smooth movement. They land right where I intended—one nearly nicking his ear and the other an inch beneath his balls. Fear widens his eyes. I shamelessly grin and wiggle my fingers in a wave.

“I’m happy to step in.” That voice. That tone. That prickle of ice along my scalp… Oh no. Hell no. No. No. No. “You sure?” Professor Emetterio asks, glancing over his shoulder. “Absolutely.” My stomach hits the floor. And Xaden walks onto the mat.

I will not die today. —Violet Sorrengail’s personal addendum to the Book of Brennan

I fling a dagger straight at his ridiculously well-sculpted chest. He fucking catches it and clucks his tongue. “Already seen that move.” Holy shit is he fast.

“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.”

“Problem is, if you aren’t testing yourself in here”—he scrapes the dagger down my neck, but there’s no warm trickle of blood, so I know he hasn’t cut me—“then you’re not going to get any better.” “You’d rather I die, no doubt,” I fire back, the side of my face pressed into the mat. This isn’t just painful, it’s humiliating. “And be denied the pleasure of your company?” he mocks. “I fucking hate you.” The words are past my lips before I can shut my mouth. “That doesn’t make you special.”

Ignoring Xaden’s outstretched hand, I gain my feet and his lips curve into an approving smile. “She can be taught.” “She’s a quick learner,” I retort.

Beautiful. Fucking. Asshole.

You are not attracted to toxic men, I remind myself, and yet, here I am, getting all attracted.

“You’re tiny.” He says it like an insult. “Well aware.” My eyes narrow. “So stop going for bigger moves that expose you.” He drags the tip of the dagger down his side. “A rib shot would have worked just fine.” Then he guides our hands around his back, making himself vulnerable. “Kidneys are a good fit from this angle, too.” I swallow, refusing to think of other things that are a good fit at this angle. He leads our hands to his waist, his gaze never leaving mine. “Chances are, if your opponent is in armor, it’s weak here. Those are three easy places you could have struck before your opponent would have had time to stop you.” They’re also fatal wounds, and I’ve avoided those at all costs. “Do you hear me?” I nod. “Good. Because you can’t poison every enemy you come across,” he whispers, and I blanche. “You’re not going to have time to offer tea to some Braevi gryphon rider when they come at you.” “How did you know?” I finally ask. My muscles lock, including my thighs, which just happen to still be bracketing his hips. His eyes darken. “Oh, Violence, you’re good, but I’ve known better poison masters. The trick is to not make it quite so obvious.” My lips part, and I bite back a retort that I was careful not to be obvious. “I think she’s been taught enough for the day,” Dain barks, reminding me that we’re far from alone. No, we’re a damned spectacle.

Then he guides our hands back to my ribs and slides the ruby-hilted blade back into its sheath. The move is unnervingly…hot.

“Killing you wouldn’t be any trouble, Violence. It’s leaving you alive that seems to cause the majority of my trouble.”

“Stop letting fear leach into your voice,” Luca snaps from behind Rhiannon. “If the dragons think you’re a coward, you’ll be nothing but a name tomorrow.” “She says,” Ridoc narrates, “inducing more fear.”

“What changed between Parapet and now?” Dain asks again, a wealth of emotions in his eyes that I can’t begin to interpret. Well, except the fear. That doesn’t need any interpretation. “Me.”

The rope barely cuts the corner of the structure now, and I use what’s left of my upper-body strength to pull myself up, scrambling to my hands and knees on the path. “Hell yes!” Ridoc yells, hooting from the top. “That’s our girl!” “Get up!” Rhiannon shouts. “One more!”

“A rider may only bring to the quadrant the items they can carry—” I start. “Are you quoting the Codex to me?” Amber shouts. “—and they shall not be separated from those items no matter what they may be,” I continue. “For once carried across the parapet, they are considered part of their person. Article Three, Section Six, Addendum B.” Her blue eyes flare wide as I glance at her. “That addendum was written to make thievery an executional offense.” “Correct.” I nod, looking between her and the onyx eyes that see straight through me. “But in doing so, it gave any item carried across the parapet the status of being a part of the rider.” I unsheathe the chipped and battered blade with a sharp bite of pain in my palms. “This isn’t a challenge blade. It’s one I carried across and therefore considered part of myself.” His eyes flare, and I don’t miss the hint of a smirk on that infuriatingly decadent mouth of his. It should be against the Codex to look that good and be so ruthless. “The right way isn’t the only way.” I use his own words against him. Xaden holds my gaze. “She has you, Amber.” “On a technicality!” “She still has you.”