Fourth Wing (The Empyrean, #1)

by Rebecca Yarros

The first rush of power is unmistakable. The first time it forms to you, surrounds you with a seemingly endless supply of energy, you’ll be addicted to the high, to the possibilities of all you can do with it, to the control you hold in the palm of your hand.But here’s the thing, that power can quickly turn and control you.

I grip the doorframe as an image of falling fills my mind, and I feel the sizzle of flakes as they make contact with my heated skin. It’s gone as quickly as it appeared, but the driving, thundering desire remains. Oh shit. This is…lust.

It’s because I’m not myself. All of this, the need, the lust, the craving for the one person who I’m meant to be with…it’s Tairn. Tairn’s emotions aren’t just overwhelming me; they’re controlling me.

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. My stupid, foolish heart feels like there’s a fist around it, squeezing tight.

“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.”

“Damn it. Touching you was a bad idea.” “The worst,” I agree, but my tongue skims my lower lip. He groans and my core melts at the sound. “Kissing you would be a cataclysmic mistake.” “Calamitous.” What would it take to hear that groan again?

But knowing I’ll regret it doesn’t stop me from wanting it—wanting him. Regretting is a problem for future Violet. “Fuck it.” One second he’s out of reach and the next his mouth is on mine, hot and insistent. Gods, yes. This is exactly what I need.

I’ve never been this out of control over a single kiss. Never wanted someone the way I do him. It’s exhilarating and terrifying at the same time because I know that in this moment, he has the power to break me. And I’d let him.

The most worrisome sight for any instructor is most definitely when powers backfire. We lost nine cadets my first year to signets that could not be controlled from their first manifestation.

Feirge said we won’t be able to be apart more than a couple of days, so does that mean one of you has to always follow the other?” “No clue. I think that’s why most mated pairs bond within the same year, so they don’t have these issues. How am I supposed to remain competitive next year if I’m constantly flying off to the front line with Tairn? How is Xaden supposed to be effective if he has to fly back here all the time?” My face scrunches. “He’s the most powerful rider of our generation. He’s going to be needed on the front, not here.”

Are they going to make her finish sooner?

“I can only do it from a few feet away, and I can’t go through walls or anything.” “Yet,” I correct her, joy bubbling through me. “You can’t go through walls yet. Rhi. That’s the kind of rare signet that’s going to make your entire career!”

“It doesn’t matter what you think—it only matters what I think. And you were right. But the Riders Quadrant stripped away the fear and even the anger about being thrown into this quadrant, and it revealed who I really am. At my core, Dain, I’m a rider. Tairn knew it. Andarna knew it. It’s why they chose me. And until you can stop looking for ways to keep me in a glass cage, we aren’t going to get past this, no matter how many years of friendship we have between us.”

“Well, it seems the Sorrengail line is blessed, even in a rider as…well, delicate as you are. With Tairn having chosen you, we’ll expect nothing but an earth-shattering signet from you. Take a seat. You can at least start with the lesser magics through your relic.” He waves me off. “No pressure,”

“You’re all worried about the integrity of the wing because Riorson might have to visit to keep his dragon happy but, Violet, he’s not the most powerful rider of our generation. You are.”

“Mat seventeen, Jack Barlowe from First Wing versus…” His eyebrows rise, and he takes a deep breath. “Violet Sorrengail.”

seethes through gritted teeth. “Tap. Out.” “Fuck off!” He throws his dagger. I throw up my hands to block, but it lodges in my left fucking forearm. Blood streams and pain sears the nerves along my arm, erupting with alarming poignancy, but I know better than to remove it.

“Breathe, Sorrengail. Just breathe.” “What the hell is wrong with him?” someone asks as Jack writhes. “Oranges,” I whisper to Ridoc as my body finally gives out. “He’s allergic to oranges.” I fall into nothingness.

And that’s not Ridoc lounged in the chair next to my bed, glaring at me like he’d like to kill me himself. It’s Xaden. His hair is tousled, like he’s been tugging at it, and he’s flipping a dagger end over end, catching it by the tip without so much as looking at it before sheathing it at his side. “Oranges?”

I know you don’t want to hear this, but sometimes you have to know when to take the death blow, Mira. It’s why you have to be sure that Violet enters the Scribe Quadrant. She’ll never be able to take a life. —Page seventy, the Book of Brennan

“Seeing as it kept you alive—kept us alive—I can’t really argue, and I’m not going to ask how it is you always know who you’ll end up challenging.” There’s definite anger in that gaze but a touch of relief, too. “Telling Ridoc allowed Emetterio to get him here in time. Unfortunately, he’s five beds down from you, and he’ll live, unlike the second-year a row over. You could have killed him and saved us all a lot of drama.”

“And you haven’t exactly been around to talk about anything in weeks. If I didn’t know better, I’d think that kiss scared you.” Shit. I didn’t mean to say that. “That’s not up for discussion.”

“It was a mistake. You and I are going to be stationed together for the rest of our lives, never able to escape the other. Getting involved—even on a physical level—is a colossal blunder. No point talking about it.”

“What if I want to talk about it?” “Then feel free, but it doesn’t mean I have to be a part of the conversation. We’re both allowed our boundaries, and this is one of mine.”

“Apparently I can’t trust Liam to report deadly situations or Rhiannon to train you on the mat, seeing how easily Barlowe had you pinned, so as of this moment, I’m taking over.” “Taking over what?” My eyes narrow. “Everything when it comes to you.”

“Winning the Squad Battle is nothing in the scheme of keeping you alive. You’ll be on the front lines before the rest of them come next year.”

“The purpose of a squad leader is to form a tightly knit unit that can carry on with a mission after their demise. Consider your leaders…demised.” Panchek shrugs with a gleeful smile. “You’re on your own, riders. Your mission is simple: find and acquire, by any means necessary, the one thing that would be most advantageous to our enemies regarding the war effort.

“You’re going to tell me I’ve lost my mind, but if we pull it off, we’ll win for sure.” I might not be enough like my mother to win her approval, but I know where she keeps the most valuable information. “And?” “We’re going to break into my mother’s office.”

There is no stronger bond than that between two mated dragons. It goes beyond the depth of human love or adoration to a primal, undeniable requirement for proximity. One cannot survive without the other.

Dain. Nine months ago, I would have relished this time away with him. Now I find myself avoiding his constant expectations of me—or just avoiding him in general. Funny how much can change in such a short time.

“My baby sister is a badass.” “Not sure Mom would agree with that.”

“Have you been stationed with any riders of mated pairs?” I ask Mira as I close the door behind us. “One,” she answers, her eyes narrowing on the darkened path in front of the house. “Why?” “I’m just wondering how long they can be separated.” “Turns out, about three days is their max.” Xaden steps out of the shadows.

The Tyrrish riders who remained loyal to Navarre during the uprising were promoted, not punished, and the riders who turned against king and country were killed or executed. And just like my grief at Brennan’s loss was directed at Xaden that first day at the parapet, there will be more than one rider who misdirects their own anger at marked riders.

“You haven’t even seen me start to be a dick.” My head turns so fast that it swims, and my mouth drops open as I stare at the side of Xaden’s face. That was his voice…in my fucking head.

“You’re staring. It’s going to get awkward in about thirty seconds if you don’t stop.” “How?” I hiss. “The same way you talk to Sgaeyl. We’re all gloriously, annoyingly linked. This is just one of the perks. Though I’m starting to wish I’d tried it sooner. The look on your face is priceless.” He winks and turns back to the table.

And if I’d known that you were going to be such a hard-ass with zero flexibility for the things she can’t control, I never would have told her to find you after crossing the parapet.” She glances at me, then back at him. “You two have been best friends since you were five years old. Figure your shit out.”

“Listen to me.” She grasps my shoulders. “He might wield shadows, Violet, but give him his way, and you’ll become one.” “That won’t happen,” I promise her. “It will if he has anything to say about it.” Her gaze flickers behind me. “Killing someone isn’t the only way to destroy them. Keeping you from reaching your potential seems like a great path to the retribution he swore against our mother. Think long and hard. How well do you even really know him?”

Winning the War Games isn’t about strength. It’s about cunning. To know how to strike, you have to understand where your enemies—your friends—are most vulnerable. No one stays friends forever, Mira. Eventually those closest to us become our enemies in some way, even if it’s through well-intentioned love or apathy, or if we live long enough to become their villains.

“Can’t know how to ruin someone without understanding them first,” he says quietly. I lift my gaze to find that his is already on me. “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.”

“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.”

“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.”

“His scales are thicker than you think. It’s Liam who’s in danger,” Tairn warns, climbing higher. We’re almost there when Jack unsheathes his sword and jumps from Baide’s back to Deigh’s, catching Liam by surprise as the dragons grapple close to the tower we’re approaching at breakneck speed. There’s barely time for Liam to gain his feet before Jack thrusts the sword through his side.

That sizzle of magic grows to a lethal, swirling vortex of energy, and though my feet are still firmly grounded, the power rises to a breaking point and the roof of my Archives disintegrates. Power crackles above me, swirls around me, wraps along my feet below me. 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. The bluish streak of silver death slams into the tower, and sparks flare as it explodes in a blast of stone. Tairn banks to avoid the blast, and I pivot in the saddle. Jack falls down the mountainside in an avalanche of rock that I know he can’t survive. From the way Baide cries beneath us, she knows it, too.

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

The death of a cadet is an inevitable yet acceptable tragedy. This process thins the herd, leaving only the strongest riders, and as long as the cause of death does not break the Codex, any rider involved in extinguishing another’s life shall not be punished.

“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.” “I didn’t mean to.” It’s barely a whisper. “I was just so fucking mad, and we’d just caught Liam. I thought my relic was backlashing finally.” My eyes widen. “It was close, Xaden. It was too close. I had to do something.” “Whatever you did is what kept him alive.”

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. Start treating her like one and at least have the decency to give her the truth. You think Melgren or any other general—to include her own mother—is going to let her sit on a power like this? It’s not like she can hide it, not the way she just demolished one of the practice forts.”

“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.”

“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.”