Page 255 - Fourth Wing

with a polished wooden seat and two cushioned squares that meet in front

of it at knee height.
She laughs, and I think it’s the first genuine sound I’ve heard her make.

“Fair point. Since we can’t work that ankle of yours or your arms until they

heal, we’re going to start with the most important muscles you have for
staying on a dragon.” She glances down my body and sighs with obvious

distaste. “Those weak-ass inner thighs.”

“You’re only doing this because Xaden is making you, right?” I ask,
parking my ass in the seat of the machine with the cushioned wood between

my knees as she makes adjustments.

Her eyes meet mine and narrow. “Rule number one. He’s Riorson to you,
first-year, and you never get to question me about him. Ever.”

“That’s two rules.” I’m starting to think my first guess about them is
right. With that kind of fierce loyalty, they have to be lovers.

I am not jealous. Nope. That pit of ugliness spreading inside my chest

isn’t jealousy. It can’t be.
She scoffs and pulls a lever that puts immediate tension on the wood, and

they rush outward, separating my thighs. “Now get to work. Push them
back together. Thirty reps.”