Page 424 - Fourth Wing

Winning the War Games isn’t about strength. It’s about cunning. To

know how to strike, you have to understand where your enemies—
your friends—are most vulnerable. No one stays friends forever,
Mira. Eventually those closest to us become our enemies in some

way, even if it’s through well-intentioned love or apathy, or if we live
long enough to become their villains.

—PAGE EIGHTY, THE BOOK OF BRENNAN

CHAPTER

TWENTY-EIGHT

The stone wall outside Professor Markham’s office in the Riders Quadrant
digs into my back, irritating my relic as I brace all my weight next to the

closed door. I’m ready to crawl out of my own skin with worry and the

insufferable buildup of power that’s threatening to combust at any moment.
It’s been two days since we left Montserrat. One day of flight back to

Basgiath and one excruciatingly long day of silence.
The sun is barely up. I haven’t done library duty since returning, and I’ve

somehow managed to get out the door before Liam even knows I’m gone.

Breakfast doesn’t matter. I couldn’t give a shit if I miss formation. This is
the only place I can contemplate being.

Footsteps on the circular staircase to the left make my stomach tense, and
my pulse jumps as my gaze flies to the doorway, looking for the first sign of

a cream tunic.

Instead, Xaden walks into the hallway, holding two steaming pewter
mugs as he heads straight for me. “Still hate me?”

“Absolutely.” That’s not entirely true, but it’s easy to blame all the guilt

I’ve been eating for two straight days on him.