Page 137 - Fourth Wing

finished teaching her.”

“I hardly think it’s fair—” Dain’s voice rises.
“No one asked you to think, squad leader,” Xaden fires back as he moves

to the side, discarding every weapon on his body—and there’s a lot of them

—and handing them to Imogen.
The bitter, illogical taste of jealousy fills my mouth, but there’s no time to

examine that particular oddity, not when there’re only seconds before he’s

in front of me again.
“You don’t think you’ll need those?” I ask, palming my own blades. His

chest is massive, with wide shoulders and heavily muscled arms alongside.

A target this big should be easy to hit.
“Nope. Not when you brought enough for the both of us.” A wicked

smile curves his mouth as he stretches out his hand and curls his fingers in a
come-hither motion. “Let’s go.”

My heart beats faster than the wings of a hummingbird as I take a

fighting stance and wait for him to strike. This mat is only twenty feet in
either direction, and yet my entire world narrows to its confines and the

danger within.
He’s not in my squad. He can kill me without punishment.

I fling a dagger straight at his ridiculously well-sculpted chest.

He fucking catches it and clucks his tongue. “Already seen that move.”
Holy shit is he fast.

I have to be faster. It’s the single advantage I have—that’s my only

thought as I move forward in a swipe-and-kick combo Rhiannon’s drilled
into me over the past six weeks. He artfully dodges my blade and then

captures my leg. The earth spins and I slam onto my back, the sudden

impact driving the air from my lungs.
But he doesn’t go for the kill. Instead, he drops the dagger he’s caught

and kicks it off the mat, and a second later, when air squeaks into my lungs,
I lunge up with the next blade, going for his thigh.