Fourth Wing (The Empyrean, #1)

by Rebecca Yarros

“At least we agree on something.” A feminine voice sounds through my head. Sgaeyl.

“You make it sound so pleasant.” “It’s not.” He turns to face me. “But you and I are exactly that, Violence. We’re chained. Tethered. You die, I die, so I damn well deserve to know how the hell you were under Seifert’s knife one second and across the room in another. Is that the signet power you’ve manifested with Tairn? Come clean. Now.” His eyes bore into me.

“Feathertails shouldn’t bond because they can accidentally gift their powers to humans,” Andarna continues. “Dragons can’t channel—not really—until we’re big, but we’re all born with something special.”

“But I gave my gift directly to you. Because I’m still a feathertail.”

“And I’m not sure anyone lets Andarna do anything.”

Wait. What? My stomach hits the ground as I stare into Andarna’s golden eyes and forget the pain, the solid earth beneath my feet, even the need to breathe as shock rolls through me, robbing me of logic. No one can stop time. Nothing can stop it. It’s…unheard of.

“Tell me what she said. Please.” His mouth tightens and I know that last bit cost him.

“And now we can stop it.” She blinks slowly, and I can feel exhaustion wafting off her. Channeling that gift to me tonight cost her. She can barely keep her eyes open.

“And if I use it too much, I can kill you,” I say softly to Andarna. “Kill us.” She stands on all four paws. “But I know you won’t.” “I’ll do my best to be worthy.” The ramifications of this gift, this exceptional power, hit me like a death blow, and my stomach bottoms out. “Is Professor Carr going to kill me, too?”

“Jeremiah was an inntinnsic.” Xaden’s voice lowers. “A mind reader is a capital offense. You know that.”

“It’s not just for your safety. Rare abilities, when kept secret, are the most valuable form of currency we possess.”

“Even worse, I think I’m getting used to it.” Either I have kick-ass compartmentalization skills or I really am acclimating to always being a target.

Even the most effective poisons come in pretty packages, and Xaden’s exactly that—as beautiful as he is lethal.

The wind ruffles his hair, and I sigh at the completely unfair advantage he has over every man in this courtyard. He doesn’t even have to try to look sexy…he just is. Oh shit. This feeling right here—the way my breath catches and my entire body draws tight when he’s near—is why I haven’t taken anyone to bed or celebrated like the rest of my perfectly normal friends. This feeling is why I haven’t wanted anyone…else. Because I want him.

“You do, though, as we both learned last night. And I can’t be everywhere you are. But Liam here”—he points back to the blond Tyr—“he’s a first-year, so he can be in every class, at every challenge, and I even had him assigned to library duty, so I

hope you get used to him, Sorrengail.” “You’re overstepping.” My nails bite into my palms.

“You haven’t begun to see overstepping,” he warns, his voice dropping low, sending a shiver down my spine. “Any threat against you is a threat against me, and as we’ve already established, I have m...

“Of course not.” He freaking smirks, and my traitorous stomach dips. “I had him moved into the one next to yours. Wouldn’t want to overstep.”

“Fucking mated dragons,” Dain seethes, keeping his eyes forward.

I sigh, facing forward. “I miss sex.” I really do, and it’s not just the physical gratification,

either. There’s a sense of connection in those moments that I crave, a momentary banishment of loneliness.

The first is something I’m sure Xaden would be more than capable of providing, if he ever thought of me that way, but the second? He’s the last person I should be craving, b...

“I miss good sex,” I counter, smothering a smile as someone walks from the front of formation toward the dais, indistinguishable through the rows of the squads ahead of us.

From what I remember reading, his father had that same magnetism, the ability to hold and capture a crowd with nothing but his words…words that led to Brennan’s death.

“Early this morning,” he begins, his deep voice carrying over the formation, “a rider in my wing was brutally, illegally attacked in her sleep with the intent of murder by a group primarily composed of unbondeds.”

“As we all know, this is a violation of Article Three, Section Two of the Dragon Rider’s Codex and, in addition to being dishonorable, is a capital offense.”

“Having been alerted by my dragon, I interrupted the attack along with two other Fourth Wing riders.” He dips his chin toward our wing, and two riders—Garrick and Bodhi—break formation, then climb the steps to stand behind Xaden, their hands at their sides. “As it was a matter of life and death, I personally executed six of the would-be murderers, as witnessed by Flame Section Leader Garrick Tavis and Tail Section Executive Officer Bodhi Durran.”

“A rider who had access to the map of where all first-years are assigned to sleep, and that rider must be brought to swift justice.” Shit. This is about to get ugly.

“I call you to answer for your crime against Cadet Sorrengail.” Xaden’s focus shifts to the center of the formation. “Wingleader Amber Mavis.”

Amber’s family stayed loyal to Navarre, so she wasn’t forced to watch her parents executed and wasn’t marked by a rebellion relic.

“Amber would never.” Dain shakes his head. “A wingleader would never.” He turns completely to face me. “Get up there and tell everyone that he’s lying, Vi.”

“I was there, Dain.” The reality of his disbelief hurts so much more than I expected, like a blow to my already battered ribs.

“Wingleaders are beyond reproach—” “Then why are you so quick to call our own wingleader a liar?” My brows rise in challenge, daring him to say what he’s so careful to keep quiet.

“She was with them in my room,” I say simply. Shouting won’t convince him. Nothing will.

The shock of what he intends to do has me stumbling backward. How have I forgotten that his signet allows him to see others’ memories?

“Give me the memory,” he orders. Indignation lifts my chin. “Touch me without permission, and you’ll spend the rest of your life regretting it.”

A familiar chaos fills the air, and we all look toward the ridgeline as six dragons curve along the mountain, flying straight for us. The biggest among them is Tairn.

Every line of his frame exudes menace as his talons crush the masonry under his grip, and his narrowed, angry eyes focus on Amber.

She’s just as terrifying as she was that first day, but back then I’d never imagined I’d bond a dragon even more frightening…to everyone but me.

“Shit’s about to get real,” Sawyer says, breaking formation to stand at my side, and I feel Ridoc at my back.

“You can stop this all right now, Violet. You have to,” Dain implores. “I don’t know what you saw last night, but it wasn’t Amber. She cares too much about the rules to break them.”

“You’re using this to get your revenge on my family!” Amber shouts at Xaden. “For not supporting your father’s rebellion!”

he’s ready to execute a wingleader on nothing more than my word. As surely as if they’re a physical structure, I feel my defenses crack on Xaden’s behalf.

“Yes.” His head snakes left and right ever so slightly. “A memory has never been shared outside of a mating bond. It’s considered a violation.”

“Xaden’s up there fighting because I told him it was her. Help him.” And gods, I admire him for it. I take a deep breath. “Only what they need to see.”

Wanting and admiring? I’m so screwed. Tairn chuffs and every dragon besides Sgaeyl stiffens on the wall, even Amber’s. The riders are quick to follow, silence ...

“Believe me now?” I hurl it like the accusation it is. “You’re supposed to be my oldest friend, Dain. My best friend. There’s a reason I didn’t

tell you.”

shouts. “It is no crime to rid the quadrant of the weakest rider! I did it to protect the integrity of the wings!”

Maybe I could talk to Amber. Maybe we can still work through our issues. Maybe we can find common ground, turn our anger to friendship or at least casual indifference.