Page 369 - Fourth Wing

I scoff and start plucking knives from their sheaths, flinging them across

the mat while he watches with impatient amusement. Then I lock my legs
around his hips and force a roll to the left, putting Xaden on his back.

Willingly, of course—there’s no way I’m kneeling on top of him if he

doesn’t want it that way—but I throw a forearm against his collarbone with
the pretense of pinning him anyway and proceed to steal the other daggers

he has sheathed along his side.

“And lastly,” I say with a smile, leaning forward, our heated bodies
nearly flush as I snatch the dagger right out of his hand. “Thank you.”

The final blade secure, Xaden throws his palms to the mat and shoves

with unnatural strength, arching us straight back until my spine kisses the
mat again.

“That’s.” I suck in a breath, the move shocking me to my toes and
lodging him firmly between my thighs. It takes everything I have not to

arch up against him and see if he really thinks that kiss was a mistake. “Not

fair to use your powers on the mat.” Magical. Sexual. Whatever. It’s all
unfair.

“That’s the other thing.” He jumps to his feet and offers his hand. I take
it, my head rushing as I stand. Not now. Do not get dizzy now. “Emetterio

doesn’t allow powers in order to level the playing field when it comes to

challenges. But out there? The field is anything but level, and you need to
learn to use whatever you’ve got.”

“I can’t do much beside ground, shield, and move a piece of parchment.”

I sheathe the new dagger, then collect the others and do the same. They
really are lovely, all marked with different runes. It’s a shame there are so

many parts of Tyrrish culture that were lost centuries ago during the

unification, including most runes. I don’t even know what they all mean.
“Well, looks like we’re going to have to work on that, too.” He sighs and

takes up a fighting stance. “Now, earn your nickname and try your best to
kill me.”