Fourth Wing (The Empyrean, #1)

by Rebecca Yarros

my traitorous body makes me embarrassingly vulnerable.

Best to get to the other side, where the rest of the murderers wait.

you can’t be assassinated if you know it’s coming.”

I wouldn’t be standing here if I’d quit every time something seemed impossible to overcome.

leathers are chosen by preference. The guys are mostly shirtless because they think shirts give their opponent something to grab onto.

Personally, I’m not arguing with their logic,

“Naolin’s signet was siphoning.” Professor Kaori’s shoulders fall. “He could absorb power from various sources, other dragons, other riders, and then use it or redistribute it.” “Badass.” Ridoc’s tone has more than a little

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

You are not attracted to toxic men, I remind myself, and yet, here I am, getting all attracted.

Every day I let you live, I get to convince myself that there’s still a part of me that’s a decent person. So if you want to quit, then please, spare me the temptation and fucking quit. But if you want to do something, then do it.”

But most importantly, if I go, if I hide…I’ll never know if I’m good enough to make it here. And while I might not survive if I stay, I’m not sure I can live with myself if I leave.

Not that I wouldn’t climb the man like a tree if presented with the right set of circumstances.

I could live forever in this tiny slice of insanity if it means keeping his mouth on mine, leaving my world narrowed to the heat of his body and the skilled stroke of his tongue.

know you just want to keep me safe, Dain,” I whisper. “But keeping me safe is keeping me from growing, too.”

so as of this moment, I’m taking over.” “Taking over what?” My eyes narrow. “Everything when it comes to you.”

“You never considered that it was you I couldn’t stay away from?”

“Fuck, that stubborn, feisty look always makes me want to kiss you.” Xaden’s expression remains bland, bored even, but his eyes heat as his gaze drops to my mouth.

“I only care what they think about you.”

His breathing changes, and there’s a war in his eyes that I’m determined to win.

as his mouth slides down my neck in a sensual assault that makes me moan.

This kind of desperation isn’t natural; it’s a wildfire that’s likely to burn us both to the ground if we let it. The

He’s the worst kind of addiction, dangerous and impossible to sate.

then he kisses me like I’m the air he’s been missing, like his life depends on it, and I think mine just might.

Tomorrow is soon enough for regrets.

We’ve been sparring emotionally for the past month, hell, even longer than that, and one of us has to expose our jugular.

Gods, I’d kiss her forever if I thought it would keep the coming argument at bay, keep us in this one pristine moment where I can actually believe that everything might be all right between us, that I haven’t irrevocably fucked up the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

It’s always like this between us—the slightest spark sets off a wildfire that consumes every thought that isn’t related to how many ways I can make her moan.

Funny how people rename everything that makes them feel uncomfortable.