Fourth Wing (The Empyrean, #1)

by Rebecca Yarros

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

“Dad wouldn’t want this!” Mira argues, color flushing up her neck. “I loved your father, but he’s dead,” Mom says, as if giving the weather report. “I doubt he wants much these days.”

“She’s not strong enough, Mom! She’s already broken her arm this year, she sprains some joint every other week, and she’s not tall enough to mount any dragon big enough to keep her alive in a battle.” “Seriously, Mira?” What. The. Hell.

“I happen to know a rider whose powers can make big things very small.” A devious smile plays across her lips. “And smaller things…much, much bigger.”

“He’ll be a second-year.” She shakes her finger at me. “Don’t mess around with second-years. If you want to get laid, and you should”—she lifts her brows—“often, considering you never know what the day brings, then screw around in your own year.

“Cadet Sorrengail has you by the actual balls here, in more ways than one. She’s right. Regs state that there’s nothing but respect among riders at formation. You want to kill her, you’ll have to do it in the sparring ring or on your own time. That is, if she decides to let you off the parapet. Because technically, you’re not on the grounds yet, so you are not a cadet. She is.”

The highest ranks among the cadets in the quadrant are wingleader and section leader. Both positions are held by elite third-years. Second-years can rise to squad leaders, but only if they’re exceptional. Everyone else is simply a cadet before Threshing—when the dragons choose who they will bond—and a rider after.

“Don’t worry—if someone sees us, I’ll just say that I was overcome with lust at first sight and couldn’t wait another second to get you out of your pants.” “Ever the smart-ass.” A wry smile tugs at his lips as we start down the hall. “I can throw in a few oh, Dain cries once we’re in your room just for believability,” I offer, and actually mean it.

“Why, Dain Aetos.” I grin and walk toward him, then grasp the door handle at his side. “You’ve seen me in swimwear, tunics, and even ballgowns. Are you telling me it’s the leather that does it for you?” He scoffs, but there’s a slight flush to his cheeks as his hand covers mine to open the door. “Glad to see our year apart hasn’t dulled your tongue, Vi.” “Oh,” I toss over my shoulder as we walk into the hallway, “I can do quite a few things with my tongue. You’d be impressed.”

“I’mnotgoingtothesibes.” So much for not slurring. “Sibes,” I try again. “SIBES.” Oh, fuck it. “Mendme.”

“Fascinating. You look all frail and breakable, but you’re really a violent little thing, aren’t you?”

I will not die today. —Violet Sorrengail’s personal addendum to the Book of Brennan

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.

vulnerable. “Kidneys are a good fit from this angle, too.” I swallow, refusing to think of other things that are a good fit at this angle.

The dragon’s giant nostrils flare. “You’re bleeding. Stop it.” My arm. “It’s not that simple when you’ve been run through with a—” I shake my head again. Am I seriously arguing with a dragon? This is so fucking surreal.

“You are a rider, are you not?” “That seems up for debate at the moment.” My heart thunders. Is he going to cook me alive for being too slow?

“You’re making us look bad. Stop it.” I’m clasped in Tairn’s claws. He’s actually…caught me instead of finding me unworthy and letting me fall to my death.

“Now get in the seat and actually hold on this time, or no one is going to believe that I’ve actually chosen you,” he growls. “I still can’t believe you’ve chosen me!”

“You’re worthy. At least I think you are, but you apparently don’t pay attention in class.” He chuffs and a warm puff of steam blasts the back of my neck.

“For your own good.” “Are you always around?” I snap back mentally. “Yes. Get used to it.” I fight the urge to growl at the intrusive, overbearing— “Still here.”

“It’s hard to love a second home as much as the first.” I swallow. “It’s easy when the second home is the right one.”

I shake my head. “I think he has commitment issues,” I whisper. “I heard that.” “Then stay out of my head.”

“They show the appropriate level of deference,” Tairn grumbles. “To what they think I’ll be, not who I am.”