Fourth Wing (The Empyrean, #1)

by Rebecca Yarros

“You take a step toward that Sorrengail and you’ll be dead before you can even shift your weight,” Xaden says, his voice dropping lethally. “She’s not up for discussion.”

“Dain wouldn’t break a rule to save your life, Violet. What do you think he’d do if he had this knowledge?”

I never lied when I said I can’t live without you, Violence.”

“We made a choice to protect you—without your consent. It was an error, and one that I won’t make again.” The guilt he feels overwhelms my own emotions, melting the hottest of my anger, and I begin to think. Really, truly think.

in. Pain rips through my chest with the kind of cut that only heartbreak can give, sharp and jagged.

It’s not honed enough to slice quickly, and there’s a one hundred percent chance the wound is going to fester. If I can’t trust him, there’s no future for us.

“We’ve been sent here to die.”

“Because magic corrupts their blood as they lose their souls,” I murmur, looking up at Xaden, wondering if he remembers what Andarna said the night we took the tunnel to the flight field. “Nature likes everything in balance.”

Fear squeezes my chest, but my heart aches at the thought of leaving them to die. It goes against everything we stand for, even if they aren’t Navarrian civilians.

“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.”

“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.” He tears his hand through his hair. “I don’t want you in harm’s way.” In a perfect world, that would be all I need to hear. “If the others get to make a choice, then so do I.”

“We watched as our parents were executed because they had the courage to do the right thing. I’d like to think my death would be just as honorable.”

My chest tightens. Their parents died to expose the truth while mine sacrificed my brother to keep this heinous secret.

And as for Mom… The dagger on her desk means she knows and has done nothing to stop it. Guess I’ll be the second child she sacrifices to keep the existence of venin a secret.

“You’ll feel the moment when you’ll know that there’s nothing to leave. And it might break your heart, but when you feel it, you fly. Promise me you’ll fly.”

He hid all of this from me, and yet my chest aches just looking at him.

“If I asked you to stay behind, would you?” His eyes bore into mine. “No.” “Exactly. I try not to pick fights I know I can’t win.”

“Find a good hiding place, Andarna. I can’t stand the thought of you being hurt.” “Go for the throat,” she says, walking into the abandoned outpost.

He’s more terrifying than any illustrator could have depicted, rivers of red veins fanning in every direction around soulless eyes consumed by magic. His face is gaunt, with sharp cheekbones and thin lips, a gnarled hand gripping a long red cane made of some misshapen wood.

There’s a reason these creatures are what make up most Navarrians’ nightmare stories—and it isn’t because they’re easy to kill. We have to get close enough to get a dagger in him.

Of course he is. Xaden might command the riders on this field, but Tairn is clearly leading the dragons. The wyvern swings around and heads toward the town’s center, tucking up two legs and beating spiderwebbed wings. It bears a female rider in maroon flight gear that resembles our own, and her eyes are the same eerie red color as the venin on the clock tower.

“Naturally. How do you think we communicated before humans got involved?”

Gods, there are still kids down there, some screaming, others heartbreakingly silent as their mothers drag their dead bodies from the streets. There are no words.

Sgaeyl picks up speed, banks, and flies right by us, her wing gliding under Tairn’s almost affectionately—which is in complete contrast to the menacing glare that seems directed at me, wyvern blood still dripping from her jaws. Message received. It’s her job to keep an eye on Xaden’s back, and mine is to watch Tairn’s.

“Tairn!” Power fills my veins and I lift my hands, but Tairn rolls, flipping my world upside down as he rakes his claws and morningstartail along the wyvern, from throat to tail, splitting it open in midair, then leveling out as the wyvern streaks a bloody path to the ground.

For the first time since we agreed to try to defend the civilians in this trading post, since we were told there were four venin and no way we could win, a little bit of the panic sitting on my chest starts to ease. We might actually be able to survive today. Maybe.

His gaze collides with mine. “That thing was going to take a chunk out of Tairn. You’ve saved my life and now it’s my turn. No matter what you think of me for keeping secrets, we’re friends, Violet.”

like it’s willing to mindlessly die to make the kill.

“None of this is all right. Please stay,” I beg, tears I can’t fight rolling unchecked down my cheeks. “Fight to stay. Please, Liam. Fight to stay.”

“Good. That’s good.” He forces a weak smile, and that dimple makes a faint appearance before his expression falters. “And I know you feel betrayed, but Xaden needs you. And I don’t just mean alive, Violet. He needs you. Please hear him out.”

Thank you for being my friend.” He blurs in my vision as the tears come faster. “It’s been. My honor.” Liam’s chest rattles as his lungs struggle.

Liam, who never complained about being my shadow, never hesitated to help, never bragged about being the best of our year. He died protecting me. Oh gods, and I just asked him if we’d ever really been friends an hour ago.

“You can kill them.” He yanks me close and kisses my forehead. “There is no me without you,” he says against my skin.

Every second matters, and these are bound to be my last—our last.

not exactly what he called me under that tree all those months ago. Violence.

There are dozens of wyvern and one of me. I have to be as strategic as Brennan and as confident as Mira.

I’ve spent the last year trying to prove to myself I’m nothing like my mother. I’m not cold. I’m not callous. But maybe there is a part of me that’s more like her than I care to admit. Because right now, standing near the dead body of my friend and his drag...