Fourth Wing (The Empyrean, #1)

by Rebecca Yarros

“And as for you.” She walks down two steps and pins Xaden with a glare. “Is this what she can expect next year?” “Aetos being an asshole?” Xaden asks, leaving his hands loose at his sides. “Probably.”

“Do you even know why he hates our mother so much? Why the kids like him are put on the para—” “I’m right here,” Xaden interrupts, rising to the same step to stand at my side. “In case you didn’t notice.” “You’re kind of hard to miss,” she retorts. “You’re not listening.” His voice lowers. “I. Am. Here. Tairn didn’t drag her back to Basgiath. He didn’t break through her shields and pour his emotions into her. He didn’t demand she fly across the fucking kingdom. Your sister is still right here. I’m the one who left my post, my position, and my executive officer in charge of my wing. She’s not missing out on shit.”

He holds out one of the mugs as an offering. “It’s coffee. Sgaeyl says you haven’t slept.” “It’s none of Sgaeyl’s business if I’m sleeping,” I snip. “But thanks.” I take the cup. He looks like he’s had a full eight hours and a vacation since yesterday. “I bet you’re sleeping like a baby.” “Quit telling Sgaeyl about my sleep habits,” I grumble at Tairn. “I’m not dignifying that demand with a response.” “Andarna is my favorite.” Tairn snorts.

“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?” “Don’t do that,” I whisper, and he lifts his head again to hold my gaze. “Don’t do what? Tell you I can’t get you out of my head? Or speak directly into yours?” “Either.”

Dain runs a hand through his damp hair. “Are you hungry? Do you want to get breakfast?” “No, dumbass, she doesn’t, obviously.” Xaden’s snide commentary fills my head. “Knock that the fuck off,” I toss back. “No thank you.” “Look who figured it out.” Xaden’s mouth quirks upward for a heartbeat.

I ask him what his favorite food is in the middle of Battle Brief, using our mental connection. Pretty sure I hear him drop something at the back of the room before he answers. “Chocolate cake. Stop being weird.” I grin.

“Are you pushing for a reason?” Tairn asks. “Can you give me one not to?” “He cares for you. That’s already hard enough for him.” I scoff. “He cares about keeping me alive. There’s a difference.” “Not for him there isn’t.”

“Why do you think riders wear black anyway?” “Because it’s badass,” Ridoc answers from behind me. “So it’s harder to see when we bleed,” Imogen chimes in.

My words die as Tairn comes into full view. He stands tall and proud at the front of our section, not bothering to give deference to Cath as Dain’s dragon, but it’s not his position that steals my breath. It’s the saddle strapped across his back that has me gawking. “I hear it’s all the fashion,” Tairn brags. “That’s…” I don’t even have words. The black metal bands look to be intricately linked as they loop around each foreleg and come together at the front of his chest, forming a triangular plate before rising above his shoulders to a saddle with strapped, secure stirrups. “That’s a saddle.” “That’s cool, that’s what that is.” Rhiannon thumps my back.

“I can’t use that.” I shake my head. “It’s not allowed.” “I decide what’s allowed and what’s not,” Tairn growls, lowering his head to my level and blasting me with a chuff of steam. “There is no rule that says a dragon cannot modify their seat to serve their rider. You have worked just as hard—if not harder—than every rider in this quadrant. Just because your body is built differently than the others doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to keep your seat. It takes more than a few strips of leather and a pommel to define a rider.” “He’s right, you know,” Xaden agrees as he approaches, and I briefly wonder where he’d gone that he’s back so quickly. “No one asked you.” My pulse jolts and my skin flushes at the sight of him. Our uniforms make every rider look good, but Xaden takes even that up a notch with the way it cuts across the muscled lines of his body. “If you don’t use it, I’ll take personal offense.” He folds his arms across his chest and studies the rigging. “Considering I had it made for you and just about got myself burned alive in the process of trying to get it on him.” He lifts a brow at Tairn. “Even though he helped design it, I might add.” “The first models were unacceptable, and you had the gall to pinch my chest scales when clumsily assembling it this morning.” Tairn’s golden eyes narrow on Xaden. “How was I to know the leather from the prototype would burn so easily? And it’s not like there are a lot of manuals on fitting a saddle to a dragon,” Xaden drawls.

“He wasn’t amenable to me giving it a test flight.” “You can ride me when the flesh rots off my bones, wingleader.” Well, that’s descriptive.

“This is ingenious,” I say to Xaden. “Let me know if it needs modifications after we win today.” Arrogant ass.

The wide straps dig into my thighs, holding me firmly in place, and my heart thunders as pure exhilaration hits as hard as the rush of wind against my face and goggles as we dive, and dive, and dive. And for the first time, there’s no fear that I’ll tumble off his back. Slowly, I unclench my hands from the pommels and a heartbeat later, my hands are above my head as we plummet toward the valley below. I’ve lived twenty years and never felt as alive as I do in this moment.

I am the sky and the power of every storm that has ever been. I am infinite. A scream rips from my throat just as lightning splits the sky with a terrifying crack of thunder.

Tairn roars with the unmistakable sound of pride. “Lightning wielder.”

“Listen to me, Sorrengail.” He lifts one hand to stroke loose tendrils of hair behind my ear, his touch surprisingly gentle. “The world is a better place without Barlowe in it. We both know that. Do I wish I’d been the one to end his miserable life? Absolutely. But what you did will save countless others. He was nothing more than a bully and was only going to get worse as he grew more powerful. His dragon will choose another rider when she’s ready. I’m glad he’s dead. I am glad you killed him.”

“It was close, Xaden. It was too close. I had to do something.” “Whatever you did is what kept him alive.” His thumb strokes over my cheek, the motion completely at odds with his tone, and his eyes flare just enough that I know he’s aware of what I did.

And what the hell am I, Xaden? I’m a fucking weapon.” “You don’t have to use your power, Vi,” Dain starts, his voice soft and comforting. “Stop. Fucking. Coddling. Her.” Xaden bites out every word at Dain. “She is not a child. She’s a full-grown woman. A rider.

I start to shake my head, but his eyes narrow on mine. “You might not like it, might even loathe it, but it’s power like yours that saves lives.” “By killing people?” I cry. If Sgaeyl is right, and signets reflect who we are at our core, then I’m exactly as Xaden nicknamed me…Violence. “By defeating invading armies before they get the chance to hurt civilians. You want to keep Rhiannon’s nephew alive in that little border village? This is how. You want to keep Mira alive when she’s behind enemy lines? This. Is. How. You are not just a weapon, Sorrengail. You are the weapon. You train this ability, own it, and you’ll have the power to defend an entire kingdom.”

Xaden turns to leave but pauses. “Thank you for saving Liam. He’s important to me.”

I look up at Tairn, who’s surprisingly held his tongue through whatever that was with Xaden and Dain. “Go,” Tairn urges. “But do not wallow in guilt, Silver One. Whatever you feel is natural. Allow yourself to feel it but then let it go. The wingleader made a valid point. With a signet like that, you are the best hope the kingdom has against the hordes of evil that seek to harm it. Rest and I will see you tomorrow. I’ll get my own saddle off.”

Tapping the end of the razor-sharp weapon, I pivot slightly, just enough to face him. “Do you think it works inside? I mean, how does someone wield lightning if there’s no sky?” Keeping my eyes locked on his, I fling the dagger at the target. The satisfying sound of split wood tells me I hit true. “Fuck, that’s hotter than it should be.” He pulls in a deep breath.

“So then why are you here, Xaden?” “Because I can’t seem to stay away.” He sounds anything but pleased by the admission, but my breath catches anyway. “Shouldn’t you be out there celebrating?” Everyone else is. “We won a battle, not a war.” He pushes off the door and takes a single step, closing the distance between us, and lifts my braid from over my shoulder, slowly rubbing his thumb along the strands. “And I figured you might still be upset.”

There is nothing wrong with you. You get to be angry that you killed a man today. You get to be angry that man tried to kill your friend. You get to feel however you want within these walls.” He’s close enough now that I can feel his body heat through the thin cotton of my dressing gown. “But not outside them.” It’s not a question. “We’re riders,” he says, as if that’s explanation enough. He takes hold of my hands and brings them to his chest. “So do whatever you need to get it out. You want to yell? Yell at me. You want to hit something? Hit me. I can take it.” Hitting him is the last thing I want to do, and suddenly, I’m done fighting it. “Come on,” he whispers. “Show me what you’ve got.” I surge up on my toes and kiss him.

“If I get my hands on you, really, honestly get my hands on you, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.” He would. I know it in my soul. That’s why I trust him with my body.

“I’ve never lost control like that,” he says, bracing his weight on one arm and brushing my hair back from my face with the other. The move is so gentle, so at odds with what we’ve just experienced, that I can’t help but blink, then smile. “Me neither.” The smile morphs into a full-out grin. “Not that I’ve ever had power to lose control of before.” He laughs and rolls us to his side, keeping me close and cushioning my head with his biceps. I sniff at the smoke in the air. “Did I…” “Set the curtains on fire?” He lifts a brow. “Yes.” “Oh.” I can’t find it in me to be embarrassed, so I brush the backs of my fingers across the stubble along his jaw. “And you put it out.” “Yes. Right before I destroyed your throwing target.” He grimaces. “I’ll get you a new one.” I glance over at the armoire. “And we…” “Yep.” He lifts his brows. “And I’m pretty sure you need a new chair, too.”

“Why did you guess I could wield lightning?” He stretches just enough to tuck my head under his chin. “I thought you did it the first night Tairn channeled power to you, but I wasn’t sure, so I didn’t say anything.” “Really?” I blink, thinking back, but my brain is full of a pleasant, dull hum as sleep fights to pull me under. “When?” My eyes drift shut. His arms tighten around me as he tucks me closer, the backs of my thighs pressed tight against his pants as I start to drift off. “The first time you kissed me.”

When I wake, Xaden is gone, but that’s not exactly a surprise. Him staying the night to begin with? Now that was the shocker. Finding a jar on my nightstand with a handful of spring violets? My heart swells. I’m in so much fucking trouble. He even moved all the debris to a pile in the corner, which means he must have used his shadows while I was sleeping because I didn’t hear a thing.

Twenty minutes later, we’re in the flight field, and to my surprise, Tairn is saddled. “How the hell did you do that?” He chuffs in indignation. “As if I’d let them design something I couldn’t figure out how to get on myself. Remember where you get your power from, Silver One.”

I glance at him quickly before looking away, undoing the buckles of my saddle, then sliding down Tairn’s foreleg. “Don’t leave me.” “Never. I’ll burn him alive before he takes a single step toward you.”

“Keep your loyalties clear. You and Riorson both have exceptional, lethal power that any rider would be envious of. But together?” His bushy brows furrow. “You would be a formidable enemy who command could simply not afford to let exist.

“You’ve wielded lightning besides yesterday’s display during the War Games?” I debate keeping my answer to myself, but my silence isn’t going to help. “A few times.” “And both times were the result of emotional reactions?” Tairn snorts, and I smack his foreleg with the back of my hand. “Yes.” “Well, then start there. Ground in your power and try to feel whatever it was you were feeling.” He goes back to his notebook. “Should I get the wingleader?” Tairn flat-out laughs in my head. “Shut up.”

“Problems?” Xaden asks, as if he feels my inquiry. “And what are you doing so far away?” “Training with Carr.” My cheeks heat at the sound of his low voice. “And how do you know how far away I am anyway?” “Get stronger in wielding, and you’ll be able to do it, too. There’s nowhere in existence you could go that I wouldn’t find you, Violence.”

“I can’t believe you just did that.” “You’re welcome.” My cheeks are flaming hot as I lift the backs of my hands to my skin. “See, I told you.” Carr lifts the notebook. “The last lightning wielder said it made them overheat. Now do it again.” Tairn chortles. “Not a single fucking word out of you,” I warn.

This time, I focus on the feeling of the power rush and not what got it there, opening every sense and letting white-hot energy course through me, gathering to a breaking point. Then I release it, and lightning strikes more than a mile away. Well, look at that. I am a certified badass.

It only takes one desperate generation to change history—even erase it.

So we’re not doing this again until I want to risk my heart. And if I fall, then that’s my problem, not yours. You’re not responsible for my choices.”

“I heard there’s going to be a mob of infantry guys there,” Nadine says as she joins us. “Don’t you prefer a little brain with your brawn?” Ridoc slides right in, Sawyer at his side. “You did not try to leave without me!” Liam shouts as he runs forward, darting through the crowd as we move toward the staircase that leads to Basgiath’s main campus. “I was hoping you’d been given the night off,” I answer truthfully as he reaches my side. “Don’t you look handsome.” “I know.” He preens sarcastically, straightening his sash over a midnight-black doublet.

“He’s our wingleader, actually. He saved my life when we were on the front lines at Montserrat.” By making me leave instead of staying to help, but still, he deserves the credit for me not distracting Mira and getting her, myself, and Tairn killed. Xaden’s done more than save me. He believed me when I told him Amber led the unbondeds to my room. He had an entire arsenal of daggers crafted just for me. He designed a saddle for Tairn so I can ride into battle with my peers. He’d protected me when I needed and taught me to defend myself so I wouldn’t require protection forever. And when others are quick to stand in front of me, Xaden always stands at my side, trusting me to hold my own.

“I’m going to kill him for making you come to this,” I mutter under my breath as Dain greets the king with perfect manners. “Xaden didn’t make me come.” “What?” My gaze jumps to his. “He’d never ask this of me. Never ask it of anyone. But I told him I would keep you safe, and that’s what I’m doing, keeping you safe.” He flashes a crooked smile. “You are a good friend, Liam Mairi.” I rest my head on his arm. “You saved my life, Violet. The least I can do is grin and bear it through a fucking party.”

I open my eyes, tracing the ebb and flow of that shimmering shadow, and I know he’s somewhere in front of me. “Liam, you know I adore you, right?” “Well, that’s nice—” “Go away.” I walk straight ahead through the courtyard. “What?” Liam catches up to me. “I can’t just leave you out here by yourself.” “No offense, but I can fry this entire place with a lightning bolt if I want to, and I need to see Xaden, so go.” I pat his arm and keep striding toward the feeling, using it to guide me. “I mean, your aim is shit according to you, but I get the rest!” he calls out, falling behind.

“You’re not going to want to see him. Not tonight, Sorrengail,” Garrick warns with a grimace. “Self-preservation is a thing. Notice we’re not with him, and we’re his best friends.” “Yeah, well, I’m his…” I open my mouth and shut it a few times because…fuck if I know what I am to him. But the longing that holds my heart hostage, this driving need to be at his side because I know he’s suffering, no matter if it means throwing myself headfirst into uncertainty…I can’t deny what he is to me. I kick off the leather slippers of my dress uniform—they’re more of a hazard than anything, and in this wind? Well, we’ll see how it goes. “I’m just…his.” For the first time since last year, I step up onto the parapet.

“You want me,” I say, looking him in the eyes. “And no, I’m not just talking about in bed. You. Want. Me, Xaden Riorson. You might not say it, but you do one better and show it. You show it every time you choose to trust me, every time your eyes linger on mine. You show it with every sparring lesson you don’t have time for and every flight lesson that pulls you away from your own studies. You show it when you refuse to touch me because you’re worried I don’t really want you, then show it again when you take the time to hunt down violets before a leadership meeting so I don’t wake up feeling alone. You show it in a million different ways. Please don’t deny it.” His jaw flexes, but he doesn’t deny it.

“You’re jealous.” He bites back a smile. “Maybe,” I admit, then decide that answer is half-assed. “Fine. Yes. She’s strong and fierce and has that same ruthless streak you do. I’ve always thought she was a better match for you.” “I know the feeling well.” He shakes his head. “And you are strong and fierce and have a ruthless streak, too. Not to mention you’re the smartest person I’ve ever met.

Imogen and I are just friends. Trust me, she wasn’t looking at me, and even if she were…” He pauses, his hand slipping to cradle the back of my head as he holds us steady despite the gusting wind. “Gods help me, I’m only looking at you.”

Are you done pushing me away?” He draws back, searching my eyes in the moonlight before glancing over my shoulder. “You done putting yourself in harm’s way to get your point across?” “Probably not.” He sighs. “There’s only you, Violence. Is that what you needed to hear?” I nod. “Even when I’m not with you, there’s only you.

“What do you mean you know the feeling of jealousy well?” His hands tighten on my waist, and he looks away. “Oh no, if I have to trust you and tell you what I’m thinking, then I expect the same from you.” I’m not going to be the only vulnerable one out on this ledge. He grumbles, dragging his gaze back to mine. “I saw Aetos kiss you after Threshing and nearly lost my shit.”

A moment of tense silence passes before he nods once, moving forward and holding me steady while I turn around. “I’m much better at this than I was last July.” “So I see.” He stays close, one hand on my waist as I walk the last part of the parapet. “In a fucking dress.” “It’s a skirt, actually,” I say over my shoulder, only feet away from the wall. “Eyes forward!” he grumbles, and it’s only the fear in his tone that keeps me from doing something arrogant like skipping the last few feet.

“Next year is going to be so much fun,” I tease, walking forward and lacing my fingers with his so he follows. “Liam will be here next year to make sure you’re not doing asinine things,” he mutters. “You’re going to love getting his letters,” I promise, jumping the final foot off the parapet to the courtyard below.

Walking past the sword rack, I let my fingers graze across the handles of the different daggers. “How many challenges have you won anyway?” “The better question is how many have I lost,” he says, coming in and closing the door behind him. “There’s the ego I know and love so much,” I mutter,