Page 141 - Fourth Wing

Instead of going for my arms, he twists, grabbing ahold of the backs of

my thighs so I lose my leverage and our bodies careen into a roll. He comes
out on top.

Of course he does.

His forearm rests against my throat, not cutting off air but definitely
capable of it, and his hips have mine pinned, my legs useless on either side

of his as he lies heavily between my thighs. He’s unmovable.

Everything around us fades as my world narrows to the arrogant glint in
his gaze. He’s all I can see, all I can feel.

And I can’t let him win.

I slip one of my last daggers free and go for his shoulder.
He seizes my wrist and pins it above my head.

Shit. Shit. SHIT.
Heat rushes up my neck and flames lick my cheeks as he lowers his face

so his lips are only inches away from mine. I can make out every speck of

gold in his onyx eyes, every bump and ridge of his scar.
Beautiful. Fucking. Asshole.

My breath catches and my body warms, the traitorous bitch. You are not
attracted to toxic men, I remind myself, and yet, here I am, getting all

attracted. I have been since the first second I saw him, if I feel like being

honest.
He pushes his fingers into my fist, forcing it open, then sends the blade

skittering across the mat before letting go of my wrist.

“Get your dagger,” he orders.
“What?” My eyes fly wide. He has me defenseless and in the kill position

already.

“Get. Your. Dagger,” he repeats, taking my hand in his and retrieving the
last blade I have. His fingers curl over mine, clasping the hilt.

Fire races along my skin at the feel of his fingers lacing with mine.
Toxic. Dangerous. Wants to kill you. Nope, doesn’t matter. My pulse still