Fourth Wing

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

“Killing you wouldn’t be any trouble, Violence. It’s leaving you alive that seems to cause the majority of my trouble.”

“Should I get the wingleader?” Tairn flat-out laughs in my head.

“I’m over here keeping my hands and memories to myself because you asked me to, and you’re fucking me with your eyes. That’s not playing fair.”

So do whatever you need to get it out. You want to yell? Yell at me. You want to hit something? Hit me. I can take it.”

Your mother captured my father and oversaw his execution.”

Wait. Like he has the only right to hatred here? Rage races through my veins. “Your father killed my older brother. Seems like we’re even.”

“Hardly.” His glaring gaze strokes over me like he’s memorizing every detail or looking for any weakness. “Your sister is a rider. Guess that explains the leathers.”

Too heavy. I’m pretty quick with daggers, though.” Really damned quick. Lightning quick. What I lack in strength, I make up for in speed.

“I figured. Good. Now, drop your

never said it was a fault.” Mom turns to my sister. “Mira, Violet deals with more pain before lunch than you do in an entire week. If any of my children is capable of surviving the Riders Quadrant, it’s her.”

never said it was a fault.” Mom turns to my sister. “Mira, Violet deals with more pain before lunch than you do in an entire week. If any of my children is capable of surviving the Riders Quadrant, it’s her.”

Conscription Day is always the deadliest. Maybe that’s why the sunrise is especially beautiful this morning—because I know it might be my last