Fourth Wing (The Empyrean, #1)

by Rebecca Yarros

“You’re most definitely in a relationship,” Rhiannon continues, tugging me off the field. “I just can’t figure out if it’s the opposites-attract partnership that has you two baring claws or the slow, lethal burn of scalding sexual tension.”

“So then why are you here, Xaden?” “Because I can’t seem to stay away.”

Though not forbidden, cadets are strongly encouraged not to develop strong romantic attachments while studying in the quadrant for the efficiency of the unit.

“Unless you don’t want me.” “Does this feel like I don’t want you?” He takes my hand and slides it between our bodies, and my fingers curl around his length through his leathers. I whimper with pure want at the feel of how hard he is for me. “I always fucking want you.”

“You walk into a room, and I can’t look away. I get anywhere near you, and this is what happens. Instantly hard. Fucking hell, I can barely think when you’re around.”

“You’re going to be the death of me, Violet.”

“We should get you cleaned up and to sleep. We can worry about…your room tomorrow. Ironically, your bed is the only thing we didn’t wreck.”

“I saw the opportunity to make a deal,” he says softly. “And I took it.” “What kind of deal leaves you with scars like that?” Conflict rages in his eyes, but then he sighs. “The kind where I take personal responsibility for the loyalty of the hundred and seven kids the rebellion’s leaders left behind, and in return, we’re allowed to fight for our lives in the Riders Quadrant instead of being put to death like our parents.” He averts his gaze. “I chose the chance of death over the certainty.”

“So if any of them betray Navarre…” I lift my brows. “Then my life is forfeit. The scars are a reminder.”

“I just don’t trust my temper if anyone says—” I brush a kiss over his mouth, silencing him. “I know what you’re saying. It’s…sweet.” He nips at my skin. “I’m not sweet. Please don’t mistake any part of me for soft or kind. That will only get you hurt, and whatever you do…” He buries his face in my neck, inhaling deeply. “Don’t fall for me.”

“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.”

“I’ll never understand why mind-reading is a death sentence.” I place my hand on Tairn’s leg like I can absorb his strength, even though I already feel it flowing through me. “Because knowledge is power. As a general’s daughter, you should know that. We can’t have someone walking around with unfettered access to classified material. They’re a security risk to the entire kingdom.” And yet Dain is living. “Because Aetos will be useful to them as long as they can keep him under their control.” Tairn blasts a puff of steam over my head, and the Orange Daggertail backs up even more. “His power is also limited to touch, so more controllable.”

“And the fact that you bonded Tairn makes you and Riorson the most coveted pair of riders this kingdom has seen in far too long. If I could offer a piece of advice?” His eyes narrow. “Please do.” At least he’s brutally honest, so I know where I stand with him. “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. Do you understand what I’m saying?” His voice softens. “Navarre is my home, Professor. I will give my life to defend it just like every Sorrengail who has ridden before me.”

There’s nowhere in existence you could go that I wouldn’t find you, Violence.”

I know you don’t like other people to see you vulnerable, and you…” “Were vulnerable,” I finish. He nods. “If it makes you feel better, I couldn’t keep anything down after the first time I killed anyone, either. I don’t think less of you for having a reaction like that. Just means you still have your humanity.” “So do you,” I say, gently taking the book from him. “That’s debatable.”

Gravity shifts as I recognize my father’s handwriting, and it’s dated just a few months before his death. My Violet, By the time you find this, you’ll most likely be in the Scribe Quadrant. Remember that folklore is passed from one generation to the next to teach us about our past. If we lose it, we lose the links to our past. It only takes one desperate generation to change history—even erase it. I know you’ll make the right choice when the time comes. You have always been the best of both your mother and me. Love, Dad

Some of the fables tell stories of the first riders who learned to bond with dragons and how those bonds could turn on the rider if they tried to consume too much power. Others talk of a great evil that spread across the land as man became corrupted by dark magic and turned into creatures known as venin who created flocks of winged creatures called wyvern and scourged the land of all magic in the thirst for more power. Another talks about the dangers of wielding power from the ground instead of the skies, as one could easily start drawing magic from the earth and eventually be driven mad.

One of the purposes of the fables is to teach children about the dangers of too much power. No one wants to become a venin; they’re the monsters that hide beneath our beds when we have nightmares. And we certainly never want to try to control magic without a dragon to ground us.

“But here’s the thing.” I hold his gaze, knowing he could bolt at any second. “You don’t get to dictate how I feel. You might give the orders out there, but not in here. You don’t get to tell me we can fuck but I can’t fall for you. That’s not fair. You can only respect what I choose to do. 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.”

Because if there’s one thing I know for certain, it’s that I’m going to fall for this man—if I haven’t already—and he’s halfway there, too, whether he realizes it or not.

“If you’d just man up and admit there’s something between us, I would strip down to my skin so you could see every single inch of me. And once I had you begging, I’d drop down to my knees, undo those flight leathers you’re wearing, and wrap my lips around—” Xaden chokes.

If he could just be an asshole, then I’d write that night off as just sex—ridiculously mind-blowing sex—and move on. But he’s not being an ass…not usually at least, and now I understand why he takes his job so seriously. He shoulders the responsibility for every marked one in here.

As for the 107 innocents, the children of the executed officers, they now carry what shall be known as the rebellion relic, transferred by the dragon who carried out the king’s justice. And to show the mercy of our great king, they will all be conscripted into the prestigious Riders Quadrant at Basgiath, so they may prove their loyalty to our kingdom with their service or with their death.

He had the lives of all one hundred and seven marked ones carved into his back, taking responsibility for them. But who takes responsibility—takes care—of him? Everyone across the ravine is celebrating his father’s death, and he’s out here mourning it alone. When Brennan died, I had Mira and Dad, but Xaden’s had no one.

I’m in love with Xaden. It doesn’t matter that he’s leaving soon or that he probably doesn’t feel the same for me. It doesn’t even matter that he warned me not to fall for him. It’s not an infatuation, our physical chemistry, or even the bond between our dragons that keeps me reaching in every way possible for this man. It’s my reckless heart.

“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.”

“I saw Aetos kiss you after Threshing and nearly lost my shit.”

“I don’t deserve you.” His arm curls around my hips and he tugs me closer. “But I’m going to keep you all the same.” “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.”

“I fucking love your hair. If you ever want to bring me to my knees or win an argument, just let it down. I’ll get the point.”

“I think there’re a lot of people dead, which is why they’re calling the full quadrant to formation, jackass!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he asks through a tiny opening in the door. “Grab your flight leathers, and you’d better bring Sorrengail with you, too,” Garrick says. “We’re under attack.”

The inability to control a powerful signet is just as dangerous to a rider—and everyone in their vicinity— as never manifesting one.

“What are you wearing?” I ask Andarna, who struts out from under Tairn’s wing with her head held high, boasting a contraption that reminds me of a saddle but isn’t. “The wingleader had it made for me. See? It hooks to Tairn’s.” I can’t help but smile as I see the shape of the triangle on Andarna’s back that I’m sure fits the one on Tairn’s chest. “It’s amazing.” “It’s just in case I can’t keep up. Now I can come along!”

How cuteeeee

Dain’s eyes narrow. “Or has this been your plan all along? To separate her from her squad so you can use her to get your need for revenge on her mother?” “Dain!” I shake my head at him. “You know that’s not going to happen.” “Do I?” he fires back. “He’s made a big deal out of the whole if-she-dies-I-die thing, but do you know it for a fact? Do you know Tairn won’t survive your death? Or has it all been a ploy to earn your trust, Violet?” I suck in a sharp breath. “You need to stop right now.” “Please, do quit while you’re behind, Aetos,” Xaden seethes. “You want the truth? She’s a fuck of a lot safer with me beyond the wards than she is with you within them. We both know it.”

pivot, dropping my hand from Xaden’s arm, but it’s obvious by Dain’s expression that he now knows there’s something between Xaden and me—and he’s hurt. My stomach hits the ground. “Dain…” “Him?” Dain’s eyes widen and his face flushes. “You and…him?” He shakes his head. “People talk, and I thought that’s all it was, but you…” Disappointment drops his shoulders. “Don’t go, Violet. Please. He’s going to get you killed.”

“I’m going to keep you,” he promises, just like he did last night. Or was it this morning? “You’re mine, Violet.” I lift my chin. “Only if you’re mine.” “I’ve been yours for longer than you could ever imagine.”

“Tairn.” I keep my breathing as even as possible as Xaden stares at me, his face masked like an emotionless wingleader. “Silver One?” Tairn’s giant head swings in my direction. “They all carry rebellion relics,” I tell him. “Everyone in this squad besides me is the child of a separatist.” In the chaos of the flight field, Xaden constructed an all-marked squad. And they’re all. Fucking. Traitors. And I fell for it. I fell for him. “Yes. They are,” he agrees, resignation in his tone.

“Dragons are bound by bonds,” he explains as Xaden approaches. “There is only one other bond more sacred than that of a dragon and its rider.” A dragon and its mate.

“You’re working with our enemy.” “Did you ever once stop to think that sometimes you can start out on the right side of a war and end up on the wrong one?” “In this particular case? No.” I point toward the shore. “I was trained as a scribe, remember? All we’ve done is defend our borders for six hundred years. They’re the ones who won’t accept peace as a solution. What shipments have you been giving them?” “Weapons.” My stomach hits the ground. “That they use to kill dragon riders?” “No.” He shakes his head emphatically. “These weapons are only to fight venin.”

“You’re saying people who can somehow tap into the source of magic without a dragon or gryphon to channel, corrupting their power beyond all salvation, actually exist.” I say the words slowly just so we’re crystal clear. “They’re not just part of the creation fable.” “Yes.” His forehead creases. “They drained all the magic out of the Barrens and then spread like an infestation.”

“Because if your best friend sees this memory, everything is lost,” he interrupts, and I gasp. “You don’t know that—” “Dain wouldn’t break a rule to save your life, Violet. What do you think he’d do if he had this knowledge?” What would Dain do? “I have to believe he would not put the Codex above people suffering beyond our borders. Or maybe I could have built shields that would have kept Dain from prying.

“This is bigger than you and me, Violence. And leadership will stop at nothing to sit behind their wards and keep the venin secret.” His voice is raw as he pleads, “I watched my own father executed trying to help these people. I couldn’t risk you, too.”

“What did Dain say to you before we left? He leaned in and whispered something.” I blink, trying to remember. “He said something like…” I search my memory. “I’ll miss you, Violet.” His body goes tense. “And he said I was going to get you killed.” “Yes, but he always says that.” I shrug. “What would Dain have to do with emptying an entire outpost?”

“His power requires touching someone’s face. Did he touch you like this?” My lips part. “Yes, but that’s how he always touches me. He would n-never…” I sputter. “I would know if he read my memories.” Xaden’s face falls, and his hand slips downward, cradling the back of my neck. “No, Violence. Trust me, you wouldn’t.” There’s no accusation in his tone, just a resignation that hurts what’s left of my heart. “He wouldn’t.” I shake my head. Dain is a lot of things, but he would never violate me like that, never take something I hadn’t offered. Except he tried once.

“It says our mission is to survive if we can.” Oh gods. Dain read my memories without my permission. He must have told his father to where they’ve been sneaking off. I’ve unknowingly betrayed Xaden…betrayed them all.

“We’ve been sent here to die.”

“The letter says this is a test of your command,” the section leader reads behind us. “You have the choice of abandoning the village of our enemy or abandoning command of your wing.”

“Four of them is tantamount to a death sentence. The rest of my drift are making peace with our gods.” She turns toward Xaden. “I came to tell you to leave. You have no clue what they’re capable of wielding. It only took two of them to bring down an entire city last month. Two. Of. Them. We lost two drifts trying to stop them. If there’re four down there…” She shakes her head. “They’re after something, and they’re going to kill every single person in Resson to get it. Take your riot and go home while you can.”

Your dragons do count for something. They can fly you far and fast. Dragon fire won’t kill them. Only the daggers you’ve been bringing, and we have those.” She looks at Xaden. “Thank you for everything you’ve done. You’ve kept us alive these last couple of years and given us a fighting chance.” “You’re going down there to die,” Xaden says matter-of-factly. “Yes.”

“Sgaeyl says she has never run from a fight, and today will not be the first. And I’m not going to stand by while innocent people are dying, either.” He shakes his head. “But I’m not going to order any of you to join me. I’m responsible for all of you. None of you crossed that parapet because you wanted to. None of you. You crossed it because I made a deal. I’m the one who forced you into the quadrant, so I won’t think less of anyone who wants to fly for Eltuval instead. Make your choice.”