Page 275 - Fourth Wing

Air. There’s no air.

“He’s almost there!” Tairn promises, panic lacing his tone.
He who? I can’t breathe. Can’t think.

“Finish her!” one of the men yells. “He’ll only respect us if we finish

her!”
They’re after Tairn.

Tairn’s roar of rage fills my head as Oren lowers my body, flipping me

around as he curls his arm so my back is against his chest. At least my feet
are on the ground, but the edge of my vision goes dark, my lungs fighting

for oxygen that isn’t there.

The greedy eyes of a bleeding first-year stare back into mine. “Do it!” she
demands.

“Your dragon is mine,” Oren hisses in my ear, and his hand falls away,
replaced by a blade.

Air rushes into my lungs as cold metal caresses my throat, the oxygen

flooding my blood and clearing my head enough to realize this is it. I am
going to die. From one heartbeat to what will probably be my last, an

overwhelming sorrow seizes my chest, and I can’t help but wonder if I
would have made it. Would I have been strong enough to graduate? Would I

have become worthy of Tairn and Andarna? Would I have finally made my

mother proud?
The knife tip touches my skin.

My bedroom door flies open, the wood splintering as it slams against the

stone wall, but I don’t have a chance to turn to see who is standing there
before a shriek pierces my vision.

“Mine!” Andarna screams. Skin-prickling energy zings down my spine,

then rushes to my fingertips and toes, and the next breath I take is in total,
complete silence.

“Go!” Andarna demands.
I blink and realize the first-year in front of me doesn’t. She isn’t