Page 164 - Fourth Wing

But why? Because I’ll conquer it? Or because I’ll give in to Dain’s

request and hide in the Scribe Quadrant? My entire being repels against the
second option, which makes me question everything as I stand here, letting

minutes tick by before the bells sound for curfew. I climb back down the

stairs without a solid answer as to why.
I walk through the courtyard, empty but for a couple who can’t decide if

they’d rather kiss or walk near the dais, and I avert my gaze, heading for the

alcove where Dain and I first sat after Parapet.
It’s almost been two months, and I’m still here. Still waking every

morning to the sunrise. Doesn’t that mean something? Isn’t there a chance,

no matter how small, that I might just be enough to make it through
Threshing? That I might just belong here?

The door that leads to the tunnel we took to cross the ridgeline to the
Gauntlet this morning opens along the courtyard wall, just left of the

academic building, and my brow furrows. Who would be returning this

late?
Sitting back against the wall, I let the darkness conceal me as Xaden,

Garrick, and Bodhi—Xaden’s cousin—pass under a mage light, headed in
my direction.

Three dragons. They were out…doing what? There were no training ops

that I know of tonight, not that I’m privy to everything third-years do.
“There has to be something more we can do,” Bodhi argues, looking to

Xaden, his voice low as they pass by me, their boots crunching on the

gravel.
“We’re doing everything we can,” Garrick hisses.

My scalp prickles and Xaden stops mid-step ten feet away, the set of his

shoulders rigid.
Shit.

He knows I’m here.
Instead of the usual fear that spikes in his presence, only anger rises in