Page 408 - Fourth Wing

Mira keeps one eye on him at all times as well, suspiciously quiet since

last night.
And me? I can’t seem to keep my eyes to myself. There’s a palpable

energy in every room he enters, and it brushes over my skin like a caress

each time our eyes meet. Even now, I’m aware of every breath he takes as
he sits next to me midway down the table.

“Consider this your Battle Brief,” Mira continues, side-eyeing Ridoc as

he scrambles back into his chair. “This morning was about a quarter of the
patrol we’d regularly fly, so normally we’d just be getting back about now

and reporting our findings to the commander. But for the sake of killing

time, since we’re in this room as the reaction flight for this afternoon, let’s
pretend we’d come across a newly fortified enemy outpost crossing our

border”—she turns to the map and sticks a pin with a small crimson flag
near one of the peaks about two miles from the Cygnisen borderline

—“here.”

“We’re supposed to pretend it just popped up overnight?” Emery asks,
openly skeptical.

“For the sake of argument, third-year.” Mira narrows her eyes on him,
and he sits up a little straighter.

“I like this game,” another one of the Montserrat riders says from the end

of the table, lacing his fingers behind his neck.
“What would our objective be?” Mira glances around the table,

noticeably skipping Xaden. Last night, she’d taken one look at the rebellion

relic on his neck and walked by without saying a word. “Aetos?”
Dain startles from where he was glowering across the table at Xaden and

turns to face the map. “What type of fortifications are there? Are we talking

a haphazard wooden structure? Or something more substantial?”
“Like they had time to build a fortress overnight,” Ridoc mutters. “It has

to be wooden, right?”
“You are all so fucking literal.” Mira sighs and rubs her thumb over her