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.”

“This place cuts away the bullshit and the niceties, revealing whoever you are at your core.”

But Xaden’s words that the right way wasn’t the only way have played over and over in my head all night long.

He swallows hard and leans in to whisper, “I’ll miss you, Violet.” Then he pivots on his heel and heads for Cath.

“Do not dare to try and read me, human, or you’ll regret it.” Tairn’s mouth opens, his tongue curling in a motion I know all too well.

The break in his voice takes the anger right out of me. “We are not allowed to help you. To save you.”

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