Page 277 - Fourth Wing

In response to the Great War, dragons claimed the western lands

and gryphons the central ones, abandoning the Barrens and the
memory of General Daramor, who nearly destroyed the Continent
with his army. Our allies sailed home and we began a period of

peace and prosperity as the provinces of Navarre united for the first
time behind the safety of our wards, under the protection of the first

bonded riders.

—NAVARRE, AN UNEDITED HISTORY

BY COLONEL LEWIS MARKHAM

CHAPTER

NINETEEN

What. The. Hell.
It’s as if everyone in my room has turned to stone, but I know that can’t

be true. Oren’s body is warm behind me, his skin malleable under my
fingers as I shift my grip and shove his bloody forearm, forcing the blade

away from my neck.

A single drop of blood drips from the sharp tip, splattering on the
hardwood, and there’s a trickle of wetness down my throat.

“Quick! I can’t hold it!” Andarna urges, her voice thready.

She’s doing this? I gulp heaving breaths through my battered windpipe
and duck under Oren’s forearm, freeing myself, then sidestep quickly in the

silence.

Complete, unearthly silence.
The clock on my desk isn’t ticking as I squeeze between Oren’s elbow

and a giant guy who used to be from Second Wing. No one breathes. Their
gazes are frozen. To the left, the woman I sliced open is hunched over,