Page 200 - Fourth Wing

Or like a golden dragon.

Guess the little feathertail is still out here appeasing its curiosity. But I’m
apparently not going to find my dragon up a tree, so I climb down carefully

and as quietly as possible. My feet hit the ground just before voices

approach, and I tuck myself against the trunk to hide from being seen.
We’re not supposed to be in groups.

“I’m telling you, I think I saw it headed this way.” It’s a cocky voice I

immediately recognize as Tynan.
“You’d better be right, because if we just hiked all the way the fuck over

here just to find nothing, I’m going to run you through.” My stomach

twists. It’s Jack. No one else’s voice has that physical effect on me, not even
Xaden’s.

“You sure we shouldn’t be spending our time looking for our own
dragons instead of hunting the freak down?” Recognition tickles the edges

of my mind, but I lean out from my hiding place just to be sure. Yep, it’s

Oren.
I dart back behind the cover of the tree as the trio passes, each strapped

with a deadly sword. There are nine daggers tucked against my body in
various places, so it’s not like I’m unarmed, but I feel tragically

disadvantaged by my inability to wield a sword effectively. They’re just too

damned heavy.
Wait…what did they say they were doing? Hunting?

“It’s not like our dragons are going to bond other riders,” Jack snaps.

“They’ll wait for us. This has to be done. That scrawny one is going to get
someone killed. We have to take it out.”

Nausea swirls in my stomach, and my fingernails bite into my palms.

They’re going to try and kill the little golden one.
“If we get caught, we’re fucked,” Oren comments.

That’s an understatement. I can’t imagine dragons would take kindly to
killing one of their own, but they seem to be focused on culling the weak