Page 131 - Fourth Wing

“Violet,” Dain hisses as Jack maneuvers around my blades, stepping

away from the wall.
“You’ll pay for that.” Jack points at me and stalks off, but the rise and fall

of his shoulders is a little choppy.

I watch his back retreat, then retrieve my daggers, sheathing them at my
ribs before returning to Dain’s side.

“What the hell was that?” he seethes. “I told you to lay low when it

comes to him, and you…” He shakes his head at me. “You just piss him off
even more?”

“Laying low wasn’t getting me anywhere,” I say with a shrug as

Rhiannon’s opponent is carried off the mat. “He needs to realize I’m not a
liability.” And I’ll be harder to kill than he thinks.

There’s no ignoring the prickle at my scalp, and I let my gaze shift to
meet Xaden’s.

My heart does that damn stuttering thing again, as if he’d sent shadows

straight through my ribs to squeeze the organ. He lifts his scarred brow, and
I swear there’s a hint of a smile on his lips as he leaves, walking over to

observe the Fourth Wing cadets at the next mat.
“Badass,” Rhiannon says as she moves to my other side. “I thought Jack

was going to shit himself.”

I smother a smile.
“Stop encouraging her,” Dain chastises.

“Sorrengail.” Professor Emetterio glances at his notebook and raises one

bushy black brow before continuing. “Seifert.”
Swallowing back the panic that threatens to creep up my throat, I step

onto the mat opposite Oren, who’s definitely looking green now.

Right on time.
I’ve prepared the best I can, wrapping my ankles and my knees just in

case he goes for the legs.
“Don’t take this personally,” he says as we start to circle, both our hands