Fourth Wing (The Empyrean, #1)

by Rebecca Yarros

This is what six months of intense physical training has given me—the ability to barely climb six flights of stairs with a thirty-pound pack. I’m so fucked.

“Stay the hell away from Xaden Riorson.”

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

“Going for blood today, are we, Violence?”

“I fucking hate you.” The words are past my lips before I can shut my mouth. “That doesn’t make you special.”

Beautiful. Fucking. Asshole. My breath catches and my body warms, the traitorous bitch. You are not attracted to toxic men, I remind myself, and yet, here I am, getting all attracted.

“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.”

“My name is Tairneanach, son of Murtcuideam and Fiaclanfuil, descended from the cunning Dubhmadinn line.”

“Touch me without permission, and you’ll spend the rest of your life regretting it.”