Page 298 - Fourth Wing

Heat flushes up my neck and stains my cheeks. “He is not sleeping in my

room.”
“Of course not.” He freaking smirks, and my traitorous stomach dips. “I

had him moved into the one next to yours. Wouldn’t want to overstep.” He

turns on his heel and walks away, headed back to his place at the front of
our formation.

“Fucking mated dragons,” Dain seethes, keeping his eyes forward.

Fitzgibbons finishes his announcements and steps to the back of the dais,
which would usually signal the end of formation, but Commandant Panchek

takes the podium. He makes it a habit to avoid morning formation, which

means something is up.
“What’s going on with Panchek?” Rhiannon asks at my side.

“Not sure.” I take a deep breath, wincing at the pain in my ribs.
“It has to be something big if he’s fumbling with a Codex up there,”

Rhiannon says.

“Quiet,” Dain orders, glancing back over his shoulder at us for the first
time this morning. He does a double-take, his eyes flaring wide as he

catches sight of my neck. “Vi?”
He hasn’t spoken to me since our fight yesterday. Gods, how has it been

less than twenty-four hours when I feel like a completely different person?

“I’m fine,” I assure him, but he’s still staring at my throat, locked in
shock. “Squad Leader Aetos, people are staring.” We hold way more than

our share of the attention as Commandant Panchek begins to speak at the

podium, telling us that there’s another matter to handle this morning, but
Dain won’t look away. “Dain!”

He blinks, jerking his gaze to mine, and the apology in those soft brown

eyes clogs my throat. “Is that what Riorson meant by last night?”
I nod.

“I didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Because you wouldn’t believe me, even if I did.