Page 268 - Fourth Wing

“You’ve been flying for a month, and you’re still falling.” His voice

follows me down the staircase.
“So is half the wing, Dain!”

“Not a dozen times, they aren’t,” he shoots back. He’s on my heels as I

pick up my pace toward the path that will lead back to the citadel, the
gravel crunching beneath my boots. “I just want to help you, Vi. How can I

help?”

I sigh at the plaintive tone in his voice. I keep forgetting this is my best
friend, and he’s having to watch me risk my life every day. I don’t know

how I’d feel if our roles were reversed. Probably just as concerned. So I try

to lighten the mood and say, “You should have seen me a month ago when
it was three dozen times.”

“Three dozen?” His voice rises on the last word.
I halt at the mouth of the tunnel and offer a smile. “It sounds worse than it

is, Dain. I promise.”

“Will you at least tell me what part of flight you have trouble with? At
least let me help you.”

“You want a list of my flaws?” I roll my eyes. “My thighs are too weak,
but I’m building muscle. My hands can’t grip the pommel, but they’re

getting stronger. It took weeks for my biceps to heal, so I’m training that

one, too. But you don’t have to worry about me, Dain—Imogen is training
me.”

“Because Riorson asked her to,” he guesses, folding his arms across his

chest.
“Probably. Why does it matter?”

“Because he doesn’t have your best interest at heart.” He shakes his head,

looking more like a stranger than I’ve ever seen him before. “First, it was
bending the rules to make it up the Gauntlet, and yes, Amber lit into me for

an hour about how you acted dishonorably.”
Dishonorably? Fuck this.