Page 278 - Fourth Wing

clutching her forearm, and the man I stabbed is leaned against the wall on

the right, staring in horror at his thigh.
I mark time in thunderous heartbeats as I stumble into the only open

space in my room, but my path to the now-open door isn’t clear.

Xaden fills the doorway like some kind of dark, avenging angel, the
messenger of the queen of the gods. He’s fully dressed, his face a mask of

veritable rage as shadows curl from the walls on either side of him, hanging

in midair.
For the first time since crossing the parapet, I’m so fucking relieved to

see him that I could cry.

Andarna gasps in my mind—and chaos resumes.
Nausea clenches my stomach.

“It’s about damned time,” Tairn rumbles.
Xaden’s gaze snaps to mine, his onyx eyes flaring in shock for no longer

than a millisecond before he strides forward, his shadows streaming before

him as he stands at my side. He snaps his fingers and the room illuminates,
mage lights hovering above us.

“You’re all fucking dead.” His voice is eerily calm and all the scarier for
it.

Every head in the room turns.

“Riorson!” Oren’s dagger clatters to the floor.
“You think surrendering will save you?” Xaden’s lethally soft tone sends

goose bumps up my arms. “It is against our code to attack another rider in

their sleep.”
“But you know he never should have bonded her!” Oren puts his hands

up, his palms facing us. “You of all people have reason enough to want the

weakling dead. We’re just correcting a mistake.”
“Dragons don’t make mistakes.” Xaden’s shadows grab every assailant

but Oren by the throat, then constrict. They struggle, but it doesn’t matter.
Their faces turn purple, the shadows holding tight as they sag to their knees,