Chapter - 40 | Fourth Wing

-NINE
XADEN
“She’ll be all right.” Sgaeyl’s voice is gentler than she’s ever deigned to use with
me. Then again, she didn’t choose me because I needed coddling. She chose me
for the scars on my back and the simple fact that I am the grandson of her
second rider—the one who didn’t make it through the quadrant.
“You don’t know that she’ll be all right. No one does.” It’s been three fucking
days, and Violet hasn’t woken up. Three never-ending days I’ve spent in this
armchair, walking a knife’s edge between sanity and madness, studying every
rise and fall of her chest just to be sure she’s still breathing.
My lungs only ﬁll when hers do, and the time between my heartbeats is
ﬁlled with sharp, all-consuming fear.
She’s never looked fragile to me, but she does now, lying in the middle of my
bed, her lips pale and chapped, the ends of her hair duller than their usual
bladelike hue. For three days, everything about her has felt as though the life
was leached from her body, only a shadow of her soul left beneath her skin.
But today, at least, the morning light shows her cheeks have a little more
color along the darker line of her ﬂight goggles than yesterday.
I’m a fucking fool. I should have left her at Basgiath. Or sent her with Aetos,
even if it strained Sgaeyl and Tairn. She never should have suﬀered the
punishment Colonel Aetos delivered. For a crime she didn’t even know I was
committing. Didn’t even suspect.
I run a hand through my hair. She wasn’t the only one who suﬀered.
Liam would be alive.
Liam. Guilt pairs with soul-sucking grief, and I can barely inhale around the
pain in my chest. I’d ordered my foster brother to keep her safe, and that order
got him killed. His death is on me.

I should have known what was waiting for us at Athebyne—
“You should have told her about the venin. I waited for you to impart the
information, and now she’s suﬀering,” Tairn growls. The dragon is the living, ﬁre-
breathing embodiment of my shame. But at least the bond that links the four of
us is still in place, even if he can’t communicate with her—which means Violet’s
alive.
He can yell at me all he wants as long as her heart’s beating.
“I should have done a lot of things diﬀerently.” What I shouldn’t have done was
fought my feelings for her. I should have grabbed on to her after that ﬁrst kiss
the way I wanted and kept her at my side, should have let her all the way in.
My eyelids scratch like sandpaper each time I blink, but I’m ﬁghting sleep
with every bone in my body. Sleep is where I hear her heartbreaking scream,
hear her cry that Liam died, hear her call me a fucking traitor over and over.
She can’t die, and not just because there’s a chance I won’t survive. She can’t
die because I know I can’t live without her even if I do. Somewhere between the
shock of our attraction at the top of that turret to realizing she risked her own
life by giving up a boot for someone else on the parapet that ﬁrst day to her
throwing those daggers at my head under the oak tree, I wavered. I should have
realized the danger of getting too close the ﬁrst time I put her on her back and
showed her how easily she could kill me on the mat—a vulnerability I’ve
allowed no one else—but I brushed it oﬀ as an undeniable attraction to a
uniquely beautiful woman. When I watched her conquer the Gauntlet, then
defend Andarna at Threshing, I stumbled, stunned by both her cunning and her
sense of honor. When I burst into her room and found Oren’s treacherous hand
at her throat, the rage that made it so easy to kill all six of them without batting
an eye should have told me I was headed for a cliﬀ. And when she smiled at me
after mastering her shield in mere minutes, her face lighting up as the snow fell
around us, I fucking fell.
We hadn’t even kissed, and I fell.
Or maybe it was when she threw her knives at Barlowe or when jealousy ate
me alive seeing Aetos kiss the mouth I’d dreamed about countless times. Looking
back, there were a thousand tiny moments that pulled me over the edge for the
woman asleep in the bed I always pictured her in.
And I never told her. Not until she was delirious with poison. Why? Because
I was scared to give her power over me when she already held it all? Because
she’s Lilith Sorrengail’s daughter? Because she kept giving Aetos second and
third chances?
No. Because I couldn’t give her those words without being totally,

completely honest with her, and after the way she looked at me at the lake, the
utter betrayal—
The rustle of sheets makes my gaze whip to her face, and I take my ﬁrst full
breath since she fell from Tairn’s back. Her eyes are open.
“You’re awake.” My voice sounds like it’s been dragged across gravel when I
thought it’d only been my heart.
I stagger to my feet and take the two steps that separate me from her
bedside. She’s awake. She’s alive. She’s…smiling? That must be a trick of the
light. This woman likely wants to set me on ﬁre.
“Can I check your side?” The mattress depresses slightly as I sit near her hip.
She nods and stretches her arms up like a cat who’s been napping in the sun
before reaching for the blankets.
Drawing back the covers, I untie the robe covering the short nightdress I
changed her into that ﬁrst evening and slowly lift the hem above the silken skin
of her hip, preparing myself for the black tendrils that discolored her veins
during the ﬂight but receded slowly since we arrived. There’s nothing. Just a
thin silver line an inch above her hipbone. Air gushes from my lungs in relief.
“Miraculous.”
“What’s miraculous?” she croaks, looking down at her new scar.
Shit. I would be a horrible healer. “Water.” My hand shakes with exhaustion,
or relief, I don’t even care which, as I pour a glass from the pitcher on my
bedside table. “You must be parched.”
She pushes herself to sit, then takes the glass, drinking the entire thing
down. “Thanks.”
“You are.” I set the empty glass on the nightstand and then turn back to her,
gazing into the hazel eyes that have haunted me since Parapet. “You are
miraculous,” I ﬁnish in a whisper. “I was fucking terriﬁed, Violet. There aren’t
adequate words.”
“I’m ﬁne, Xaden,” she says softly, her hand rising to rest above my pounding
heart.
“I thought I was going to lose you.” The confession comes out strangled, and
maybe it’s pushing my luck after all I’ve put her through, but I can’t keep from
leaning forward and brushing my lips over her forehead, then her temple. 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.
“You aren’t going to lose me.” She gives me a puzzled look, smiling like I’ve

said something peculiar. Then she leans in and kisses me.
She still wants me. The revelation makes my heart fucking soar. I take the
kiss deeper, swiping my tongue over her soft lower lip and gently sucking on the
tender curve. That’s all it takes for need to ﬂood my system, hot and demanding.
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. We’ll have a lifetime of these moments ahead of us, when I can strip her
down to her skin and worship every curve and hollow of her body, but this isn’t
one of them, not when she’s barely been awake for ﬁve minutes. I draw back,
slowly releasing her mouth. “I’ll make it up to you,” I promise, holding her
delicate hands between my rough ones. “I’m not saying we won’t ﬁght or you
won’t want to throw those daggers at me when I’m inevitably an ass, but I swear
I will always strive to do better.”
“Make what up to me?” She pulls away with an inquisitive smile.
I blink as my brow furrows. Has she lost her memories? “How much do you
remember? By the time we got you here, the poison spread to your brain and—”
Her eyes ﬂare, and something shifts, something that sinks my stomach like a
rock as she tugs her hands from mine.
She glances away, and her eyes glaze in that way that tells me she’s checking
in with her dragons.
“Don’t panic. Everything is ﬁne. Andarna isn’t quite the same, but she’s…
her.” She’s fucking huge now, but I’m not about to say that to Violet. Her gift is
also gone, according to Tairn, but there’s plenty of time to share that news.
Instead, I say, “The healer told me he isn’t sure what lasting eﬀects the poison
might have, because it was something he’s never seen, and no one really knows
how long it will take to get your memories back if there’s any lasting damage,
but I’ll tell you—”
She throws up her hand and looks around the room, as if noticing where we
are for the ﬁrst time, then scrambles backward out of bed, pulling her robe
closed. The look in her eyes puts a vise around my chest as she stumbles to the
large windows that line my bedchamber.
The windows that look out over the mountain this fortress is built upon
down to the valley below and its line of charred trees marking where the earth
was scorched all the way to stone and the quiet town—which used to be a city—
of Aretia beneath us.
The town we’ve worked our asses oﬀ to rebuild from a pile of cinder and
ruins.
“Violet?” I keep my shields up, trying to respect her privacy as I walk to her

side, but gods, I need to know what she’s thinking.
Her eyes widen as her gaze sweeps over the town, each structure with its
identical green roofs, then pauses on the Temple of Amari, which was the most
noted landmark besides our library.
“Where are we? And don’t you dare lie to me,” she says. “Not again.”
Not again. “You remember.”
“I remember.”
“Thank gods,” I murmur, shoving my hand into my hair. It’s a good thing,
proving that she’s truly healed, but…fuck.
“Where. Are. We?” She bites out every word, her eyes narrowing on me.
“Say it.”
“The way you’re looking at me says you already know.” There’s no way this
brilliant woman doesn’t recognize that temple.
“This looks like Aretia.” She gestures to the window. “There’s only one
temple with those particular columns. I’ve seen the drawings.”
“Yes.” Brilliant. Fucking. Woman.
“Aretia was burned to the ground. I’ve seen those drawings, too, the ones the
scribes brought back for the public notices. My mother told me she saw the
embers with her own eyes, so where are we?” Her voice rises.
“Aretia.” It feels incredibly freeing to tell her the truth.
“Rebuilt or never burned?” She turns her back on me.
“In the process of rebuilding.”
“Why haven’t I read about this?”
I start to tell her, but she holds up a hand and I wait. It only takes her a
minute to work it out, too.
She points to my rebellion relic and says, “Melgren can’t see the outcome
when more than three of you are together. That’s why you’re not allowed to
assemble.”
I can’t help it. I smile. This brilliant fucking woman is mine. Or was mine.
Will be mine again if I have anything to say about it. Which I probably don’t. I
sigh, losing the smile immediately. Fuck.
No, I’m not giving up until she tells me to.
Things might be complicated, but so are both of us.
“That and we’re not big enough to warrant the attention of the scribes
anymore. We’re not hidden. We’re just not…advertising our existence.” Which is
also the reason this place is still technically…mine. Nobles weren’t exactly eager
to throw their money at a scorched city or be taxed on unusable land. Eventually
they’ll notice. Eventually I’ll lose it. Then I’ll lose my head. “You can know

whatever you want. Just ask.”
She stiﬀens. “Tell me one thing right now.”
“Anything.”
“Is…” Her shoulders stutter as she inhales. “Is Liam really dead?”
Liam. A fresh stab of sorrow pierces my ribs. Heartbeats pass in silence as I
try to ﬁnd the right words, but there aren’t any, so I take from my pocket the
palm-size, freshly ﬁnished carving of Andarna Liam had been working on.
She turns in my direction, her gaze immediately locking on the ﬁgurine, and
her eyes water. “It’s my fault.”
“No, it’s mine. If I had just told you everything sooner, you would have been
prepared. You probably would have schooled us all on how to kill them.” My
soul breaks all over again when she swipes at twin tears with the backs of her
hands. I set the carving in her hand. “I know I should have, but I couldn’t bear
to burn it. We laid him to rest yesterday. Well, the others did. I haven’t left this
room since we got here.” Our gazes collide, and it’s all I can do not to reach for
her, but I know I’m the last place she’ll seek comfort. “I haven’t left you.”
“Well, you do have a vested interest in my survival,” she quips with a
watery, sarcastic smile. “Give me a second to get dressed, and then we’ll talk.”
“Kicking me out of my own room.” I reach for that sarcastic, teasing tone
that used to be so easy when it came to her and back away. “New one.”
“Now, Riorson.”
I can’t keep from wincing. She never uses my last name. Maybe it’s because
she doesn’t like to remember that I’m Fen Riorson’s son, and all my father cost
her, but I’ve always been Xaden to her. The loss feels like a bottomless abyss,
like a death blow. “Bathing chamber is through there.” I point to the far wall
and stride for the exit, swinging my sword over my back on the way out.
My cousin is leaned up against the wall, talking to Garrick, who’s boasting a
new six-inch scar from temple to jaw, but they both fall silent as I shut my door
behind me. They tense and Garrick stands to his full height. “She’s awake.”
“Thank Amari,” Bodhi says, his shoulders sagging. His arm is still in a sling,
recovering from the four places a venin fractured it.
“She’s going to have to choose.” I look at Garrick, noting the worry in his
eyes. He’s already told me he thinks she’ll keep our secret. That worry is for my
mental state if she doesn’t forgive me for not telling her sooner. “She’ll either
keep our secret or she won’t.”
“That’s something you’ll have to ﬁgure out,” he replies. “And then teach her
how to hide it from Aetos if she chooses.”
“Any word from the ﬂiers?”

“Syrena is alive, if that’s what you’re asking,” Bodhi answers. “So is her
sister. But the rest…” He shakes his head.
At least they made it out, and now that Violet is awake, I can ﬁnally breathe.
“You ﬁgure out what that box was that Chradh was drawn to back at Resson?” I
ask. Garrick’s dragon is remarkably sensitive to runes, which allowed them to
locate and retrieve the small iron box beneath the rubble of the clock tower.
“They’re working on it right now. Hopefully we’ll have an answer in the next
couple of hours. I’m glad she’s all right, Xaden. I’ll tell the others.” He nods once
and heads down the hall, almost as familiar with the castle’s layout as I am,
considering he spent every summer here before the apostasy, or secession, as the
Navarrians call Dad’s rebellion.
Funny how people rename everything that makes them feel uncomfortable.
We lost faith that our king would ever do the right thing. And they call us
traitors.
Bodhi wrinkles his nose.
“What?”
“You smell like dragon ass.”
“Fuck oﬀ.” I chance a whiﬀ and can’t argue. “I’m using your room.”
“I would consider it a personal favor.”
I extend my middle ﬁnger and head toward his room.
…
An hour later, I’m bathed and impatient as I wait outside my room in a fresh set
of leathers with Bodhi, who’s doing his best to lighten my mood just like he
always does, when the door opens and Violet stands there.
I nearly swallow my tongue at the sight of her unbound, damp hair curling
just under her breasts. I can’t even articulate what it is about the strands that
pushes me straight into need-to-fuck-her-now territory, and I’m too busy ﬁghting
to keep my hands at my sides to question the why of it.
She exists, and I get turned on. I’ve come to accept that particular truth over
the last year.
Bodhi grins, ﬂashing a smile that looks exactly like my aunt’s used to. “Good
to see you up and about, Sorrengail.” Then he smacks me on the shoulder as he
walks oﬀ, looking back over his shoulder. “I’ll fetch the backup plan. Good
luck.”
Gods, I want to haul her into my arms and love her until she forgets
everything except how good we are together, but I’m sure that’s the last thing

she’ll ever want again.
“Come back in,” she says softly, and my heart lurches.
“As long as you’ve invited me.” I walk in, loathing the distrust in her eyes.
Whether or not Violet will believe me, I’ve never lied to her. Not once.
I’ve just never been entirely truthful, either.
“Is all this original?” she asks, her gaze sweeping over my bedroom.
“The majority of the fortress is stone,” I say as she studies the detailed arches
at the ceiling, the natural lighting from the windows that consume the western
wall. “Stone doesn’t burn.”
“Right.”
I swallow. Hard. “I think after all you’ve seen, the question I have to ask
before I tell you everything is pretty simple. Are you in? Are you willing to ﬁght
with us?” She could just as easily decide to turn us all in. She didn’t know
enough to condemn us, but she does now.
“I’m in.” She nods.
Relief surges through me in a rush more powerful than anything I could
channel from Sgaeyl, and I reach for her. “I’m so sorry I had to keep…” My
words die on my tongue as she steps back, avoiding me.
“Not happening.” A world of hurt ﬂashes in those hazel eyes, and I fucking
wither. “Just because I believe you and am willing to ﬁght with you doesn’t
mean I’ll trust you with my heart again. And I can’t be with someone I don’t
trust.”
Something in my chest crumples. “I’ve never lied to you, Violet. Not once. I
never will.”
She walks over to the window and looks down, then slowly turns back to me.
“It’s not even that you kept this from me. I get it. It’s the ease with which you
did it. The ease with which I let you into my heart and didn’t get the same in
return.” She shakes her head, and I see it there, the love, but it’s masked behind
defenses I foolishly forced her to build.
I love her. Of course I love her. But if I tell her now, she’ll think I’m saying it
for all the wrong reasons, and honestly, she’d be right.
I’m not going to lose the only woman I’ve ever fallen for without a ﬁght.
“You’re right. I kept secrets,” I admit, pressing forward again, taking step after
step until I’m less than a foot from her. I palm the glass on both sides of her
head, loosely caging her in, but we both know she could walk away if she
wanted. But she doesn’t move. “It took me a long time to trust you, a long time
to realize I fell for you.”
Someone knocks. I ignore it.

“Don’t say that.” She lifts her chin, but I don’t miss the way she glances at
my mouth.
“I fell for you.” I lower my head and look straight into her gorgeous eyes.
She might be rightfully pissed, but she sure as Malek isn’t ﬁckle. “And you know
what? You might not trust me anymore, but you still love me.”
Her lips part, but she doesn’t deny it. “I gave you my trust for free once, and
once is all you get.” She masks the hurt with a quick blink.
Never again. Those eyes will never reﬂect hurt I’ve inﬂicted ever again.
“I fucked up by not telling you sooner, and I won’t even try to justify my
reasons. But now I’m trusting you with my life—with everyone’s lives.” I’ve
risked it all by just bringing her here instead of taking her body back to
Basgiath. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know and everything you don’t. I’ll
spend every single day of my life earning back your trust.”
I’d forgotten what it felt like to be loved, really, truly loved—it’d been so
many years since Dad died. And Mom… Not going there. But then Violet gave me
those words, gave me her trust, her heart, and I remembered. I’ll be damned if I
don’t ﬁght to keep them.
“And if it’s not possible?”
“You still love me. It’s possible.” Gods, do I ache to kiss her, to remind her
exactly what we are together, but I won’t, not until she asks. “I’m not afraid of
hard work, especially not when I know just how sweet the rewards are. I would
rather lose this entire war than live without you, and if that means I have to
prove myself over and over, then I’ll do it. You gave me your heart, and I’m
keeping it.” She already owns mine, even if she doesn’t realize it.
Her eyes widen, as if she’s ﬁnally seeing the resolve in mine.
It’s time she knew everything. Knowing Violet, she won’t stay tucked away,
safe behind Basgiath’s walls, especially not now that she knows just how corrupt
those walls are.
She’ll ﬁght this war at my side.
There’s another insistent knock at the door.
“Fuck is he impatient,” I mutter. “You have about twenty seconds to ask a
question, if I know him.”
She blinks. “I’m still hoping that missive at Athebyne was really about the
War Games. Do you think there’s any chance we just happened to end up in the
middle of a wyvern attack at that outpost?”
“That deﬁnitely wasn’t an accident, little sister,” he says from the doorway.
I sigh and move to the side, watching Violet’s eyes widen as she sees him
standing in the doorway. “Told you I knew better poison masters,” I tell her

softly. “You weren’t healed. You were mended.”
“Brennan?” She stares at her brother in open-mouthed shock.
Brennan just grins and opens his arms. “Welcome to the revolution, Violet.”

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Acknowledgments
First and foremost, thank you to my Heavenly Father for blessing me beyond my
wildest dreams.
Thank you to my husband, Jason, for being the best inspiration an author
could ever have for the perfect book boyfriend and for your endless support of
my dream-chasing ways. Thank you for holding my hand when the world went
wonky, getting me to every doctor’s appointment, and managing the
overwhelming the calendar that comes with having four sons and a wife with a
connective tissue disorder. Through the surgeries and specialists, you’ve been
our rock. Thank you to my six children, who teach me more than I will ever
teach them. You guys are my reason. Never doubt that you are essential to my
existence. To my sister, Kate, love you, mean it. To my parents, who are always
there when I need them. To my best friend, Emily Byer, for always hunting me
down when I disappear into the writing cave for months.
Thank you to my team at Red Tower. There isn’t enough gratitude in the
world for my editor Liz Pelletier, for giving me the chance to spread my wings
and write fantasy and keeping me fed and laughing during our twenty-one-day
stint of ﬁnishing edits. No laptops were harmed in the making of this book. But
seriously, this book is my dream. Thank you for making it come true with your
advice, input, patience, and endless support—it wouldn’t have been possible
without you. To Stacy for copy editing during sleepless nights. Heather, Curtis,
Molly, Jessica, Riki, and everyone at Entangled and Macmillan for answering
endless streams of emails and for bringing this book to the marketplace. To
Madison and Nicole for all the incredible notes and staying up all night during
the read-through. Elizabeth, thank you for this beautiful cover, and to Bree and
Amy for the exquisite art. Thank you to my phenomenal agent, Louise Fury, who
didn’t bat an eye when I said I wanted to write a fantasy and who makes my life
easier simply by standing at my back.
Thank you to my wifeys, our unholy trinity, Gina Maxwell and Cindi Madsen
—I’d be lost without you. To Kyla, who made this book possible. To Shelby and
Cassie for keeping my ducks in a row and always being my number one hype
girls. To Candi for handling everything that comes our way with grace and
laughter. To Stephanie Carder for taking the time to read. To every blogger and
reader who has taken a chance on me over the years, I can’t thank you enough.
To my reader group, The Flygirls, for bringing me joy every day.

Lastly, because you’re my beginning and end, thank you again to my Jason.
There’s a little bit of you in every hero I write.

About the Author
Rebecca Yarros is the USA Today bestselling author of more than ﬁfteen novels.
“A gifted storyteller” (Kirkus), she is also the recipient of the Colorado Romance
Writers Award of Excellence. A second-generation army brat, Rebecca loves
military heroes and has been blissfully married to hers for more than twenty
years. She’s the mother of six children, and she and her family live in Colorado
with their stubborn English bulldogs, two feisty chinchillas, and a kitten named
Artemis, who rules them all.
Having fostered, then adopted their youngest daughter, Rebecca is passionate
about helping children in the foster system through her nonproﬁt, One October,
which she cofounded with her husband in 2019. To learn more about their
mission, visit oneoctober.org.
To catch up on Rebecca’s latest releases and upcoming novels, visit
RebeccaYarros.com.