Fourth Wing (The Empyrean, #1)

by Rebecca Yarros

“You have to fight, Vi,” Xaden whispers against my forehead as we move. “You can hate me all you want when you wake up. You can scream, hit, throw your fucking daggers at me for all I care, but you have to live. You can’t make me fall for you and then die. None of this is worth it without you.”

“You should have told her about the venin. I waited for you to impart the information, and now she’s suffering,” Tairn growls. The dragon is the living, fire-breathing embodiment of my shame. But at least the bond that links the four of us is still in place, even if he can’t communicate with her—which means Violet’s alive. He can yell at me all he wants as long as her heart’s beating.

Somewhere between the shock of our attraction at the top of that turret to realizing she risked her own life by giving up a boot for someone else on the parapet that first day to her throwing those daggers at my head under the oak tree, I wavered. I should have realized the danger of getting too close the first time I put her on her back and showed her how easily she could kill me on the mat—a vulnerability I’ve allowed no one else—but I brushed it off as an undeniable attraction to a uniquely beautiful woman. When I watched her conquer the Gauntlet, then defend Andarna at Threshing, I stumbled, stunned by both her cunning and her sense of honor. When I burst into her room and found Oren’s treacherous hand at her throat, the rage that made it so easy to kill all six of them without batting an eye should have told me I was headed for a cliff. And when she smiled at me after mastering her shield in mere minutes, her face lighting up as the snow fell around us, I fucking fell. We hadn’t even kissed, and I fell.

“Violet?” I keep my shields up, trying to respect her privacy as I walk to her side, but gods, I need to know what she’s thinking.

ARE WE DUMB??

Brilliant. Fucking. Woman.

Heartbeats pass in silence as I try to find the right words, but there aren’t any, so I take from my pocket the palm-size, freshly finished carving of Andarna Liam had been working on.

Bodhi wrinkles his nose. “What?” “You smell like dragon ass.” “Fuck off.” I chance a whiff and can’t argue. “I’m using your room.” “I would consider it a personal favor.” I extend my middle finger and head toward his room.

“It took me a long time to trust you, a long time to realize I fell for you.” Someone knocks. I ignore it. “Don’t say that.” She lifts her chin, but I don’t miss the way she glances at my mouth. “I fell for you.” I lower my head and look straight into her gorgeous eyes. She might be rightfully pissed, but she sure as Malek isn’t fickle. “And you know what? You might not trust me anymore, but you still love me.” Her lips part, but she doesn’t deny it.

I would rather lose this entire war than live without you, and if that means I have to prove myself over and over, then I’ll do it. You gave me your heart, and I’m keeping it.”

There’s another insistent knock at the door. “Fuck is he impatient,” I mutter. “You have about twenty seconds to ask a question, if I know him.” She blinks. “I’m still hoping that missive at Athebyne was really about the War Games. Do you think there’s any chance we just happened to end up in the middle of a wyvern attack at that outpost?” “That definitely wasn’t an accident, little sister,” he says from the doorway. I sigh and move to the side, watching Violet’s eyes widen as she sees him standing in the doorway. “Told you I knew better poison masters,” I tell her softly. “You weren’t healed. You were mended.” “Brennan?” She stares at her brother in open-mouthed shock. Brennan just grins and opens his arms. “Welcome to the revolution, Violet.”