Fourth Wing (The Empyrean, #1)

by Rebecca Yarros

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

being ignored is the best possible scenario

The weak don’t survive here,

Dragons don’t bond fragile women. They incinerate them.

I cringe as the temperature in the room plummets, courtesy of Mom’s storm-wielding signet power she channels through her dragon, Aimsir.

“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.”

“You’re the smartest woman I know. Don’t forget that. Your brain is your best weapon. Outsmart them, Violet. Do you hear me?”

She yanks me against her chest, hugging me tight in the relative privacy of the corridor. “I love you, Violet. Remember everything I’ve told you. Don’t become another name on the death roll.” Her voice shakes, and I wrap my arms around her, squeezing tight. “I’ll be all right,” I promise.

who wouldn’t want to ride a dragon?” Me.

The third turns in my direction and my heart simply…stops.

He’s the most exquisite man I’ve ever seen.

A scream rends the air, and Rhiannon and I both jerk our attention to the parapet just in time to see Dylan slip.

The wind and rain steal any sound his body might make in the valley below.

“Why would I waste my energy killing you when the parapet will do it for me?”

I send up a silent prayer to Zihnal, the god of luck.

“You will be tested by your superiors, hunted by your peers, and guided by your instincts. If you survive to Threshing, and if you are chosen, you will be riders. Then we’ll see how many of you make it to graduation.”

“Discipline falls to your units, and your wingleader is the last word. If I have to get involved…” A slow, sinister smile spreads across his face. “You don’t want me involved.

We’re moving to Fourth Wing. Xaden’s wing.

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

He’s not taking my daggers to use against me; he’s disarming me just to prove he can.

“I think my version fits you better.”

Then he leans closer. “Taking out your enemy before the battle is really smart; I’ll give that to you,” he whispers, his warm breath brushing the shell of my ear.

You are not attracted to toxic men, I remind myself, and yet, here I am, getting all attracted. I have been since the first second I saw him, if I feel like being honest.

“The right way isn’t the only way.

You have a real future here, and I refuse to bring you down with me if I didn’t make it.”

Just because you survive Threshing doesn’t mean you’ll survive the ride to the flight field. Being chosen isn’t the only test, and if you can’t hold your seat, then you’ll fly straight into the ground. —Page fifty, the Book of Brennan

“I’m just…not as strong as other riders.” “I know exactly who and what you are, Violet Sorrengail.”

“I’m sorry. I just didn’t think I’d make it this far.” A loud sigh resonates through my mind. “I didn’t think I would, either, so we have that in common.”

“You are the smartest of your year. The most cunning.” I gulp at the compliment, brushing it off. I was trained as a scribe, not a rider. “You defended the smallest with ferocity. And strength of courage is more important than physical strength. Since you apparently need to know before we land.”

He can read my thoughts. “See? Smartest of your year.” So much for privacy. “You’ll never be alone again.” “That sounds more like a threat than a comfort,”

“They’re a mated pair, Tairn and Sgaeyl. The strongest bonded pair in centuries.”

Sgaeyl called for Tairn.

It was over in an instant. It was everything I’ve ever wanted…except… Shit. I don’t want it anymore.

Feral dogs bite harder when they’re cornered.

Even temples can be rebuilt, but books cannot be rewritten.

I blink and realize the first-year in front of me doesn’t. She isn’t breathing. Isn’t moving. No one is. Everyone in this room is frozen in place…except me.

“She should have killed you in the field, but she’s merciful. That’s not a flaw I possess.” He slashes forward so quickly that I barely catch the move, and Oren’s throat opens in a horizontal line, blood streaming down his neck and chest in a torrent.

my body doesn’t heat at the sight of him the way it does around Xaden.

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

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 would have been wasted as a scribe.”

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

Rhiannon sets out her supplies.

fumble my quill and it falls to the ground, but before I can lean over, the shadows beneath the arm of my desk lift the instrument like an offering.

He sure as hell doesn’t have a problem keeping his eyes off me the way I do him.

“You held your own and controlled your temper,” Tairn says, an immense swell of pride flooding my chest. “She’s ready,” Andarna adds with a giddy jolt of joy that makes me instantly light-headed. “She’s ready,” he agrees.

Xaden’s arm wraps around my waist, steadying me.

“Have you always been this tall?” I blurt the first thing that comes to mind. “No. I was a child at some point.” I roll my eyes.

“You are astonishing.”

I’m finally not only good at something, but astonishing.