Page 145 - Fourth Wing

chair out from his desk and takes a seat, then rests his head in his hands.

“Did something happen?” Fear races down my spine. “Is it Mira’s wing?”
“No!” Dain’s head snaps up, and there’s so much misery in his eyes that I

swing my feet off the bed. “It’s nothing like that. I told him…that I think

Riorson wants to kill you.”
I blink, sitting fully back onto the bed. “Oh. Well, that’s not really news,

is it? Everyone who’s read a history of the rebellion can put two and two

together, Dain.”
“Yeah, well, I told him about Barlowe, too, and Seifert.” He rubs his hand

over his hair. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the way Seifert shoved you into

the wall before formation this morning.” He lifts his brows at me.
“He’s just pissed that I took his dagger at that first challenge.” I squeeze

the pillow tighter.
“And Rhiannon told me you found crushed flowers on your bed last

week?” He stares me down.

I shrug. “They were just dead flowers.”
“They were mutilated violets.” His mouth tightens and I go to him,

resting my hands on his head.
“It’s not like they came with a death note or anything,” I tease, stroking

his soft brown hair.

He looks up at me, the mage lights making his eyes a little brighter above
his trim beard. “They’re threats.”

I shrug. “Every cadet gets threatened.”

“Every cadet doesn’t have to wrap their knees every day,” he fires back.
“The injured ones do.” My brow furrows, annoyance taking root in my

chest. “Why would you tell Markham about it anyway? He’s a scribe, and

there’s nothing he would do even if he could.”
“He said he’d still take you,” Dain blurts, his hands flying to my hips,

holding me in place when I try to step away. “I asked him if he’d allow you
into the Scribe Quadrant for your own safety, and he said yes. They’d put