Page 274 - Fourth Wing

“I should have killed you during Threshing,” I admit. My door is closed,

but surely someone will hear if I sc—
A woman lunges for me, scrambling across my bed, and I dodge, sliding

along the icy pane of the window. The window!

“It’s too high. You’ll fall to the ravine, and I can’t get there fast enough!”
No window. Got it. Another woman throws her knife, rending the fabric

of my nightgown’s sleeve as it lodges in the armoire, but she missed any

flesh. I spin, leaving the sleeve behind as it rips away, and flick my dagger
as I round the end of my bed. It lands in her shoulder, my favorite target,

and she goes down with a cry, clutching her wound.

The rest of my weapons are stored near the door. Shit. Shit. Shit.
“No more throwing things. Keep ahold of that weapon!”

For someone who can’t help, Tairn has no problem dishing out opinions.
“You have to go for her throat!” Oren shouts. “I’ll do it myself!”

I move my blade to my right hand and fend off one attack from the left,

slicing her down her forearm, and then another to the right, stabbing into a
man’s thigh. I kick out with my heel and catch another in the gut as he

attacks, sending him careening back onto my bed, his sword tumbling after
him.

But now I’m cornered between my desk and the armoire.

There are too many of them.
And they all rush at the same damn time.

My dagger is kicked out of my hand with appalling ease, and my heart

seizes as Oren grips my throat, yanking me toward him. I sweep out for his
knees, but my bare feet make no impact as he lifts me off the ground,

cutting off my air supply as I kick for purchase.

No. No. No.
I dig my hands into his arm, my fingernails puncturing his skin as I claw,

drawing blood. He might bear my scars after this, but his grip doesn’t ease
as he crushes my throat.