Page 426 - Fourth Wing

exactly did you decide not to ruin me?”

“Maybe it was when I saw Oren holding a knife to your throat,” he says.
“Or maybe it was when I realized the bruises on your neck were

fingerprints and wanted to kill them all over again just so I could do it

slowly. Maybe it was the first time I recklessly kissed you or when I
realized I’m fucked because I can’t stop thinking about doing more than just

kissing you.” My breath catches at his admission, but he just sighs, lets his

head fall back against the wall. “Does it even matter when, as long as it
changed between us?”

“Don’t do that,” I whisper, and he lifts his head again to hold my gaze.

“Don’t do what? Tell you I can’t get you out of my head? Or speak
directly into yours?”

“Either.”
“You could learn to do it, too.” Why the hell is it so impossible to look

away from him? To remember that kiss on that tower had been a game to

him, that this all might be a game to him? To quell this impossible ache that
swirls in my stomach every time I think about him? “Come on, give it a

try.”
As I stare into his gold-flecked eyes, I decide he’s right. I could at least

meet him halfway and try. I put one mental foot in my Archives and feel

power ripple through my veins. Bright orange, crackling energy streams in
from the door behind me, and there’s a golden light that shines from the

window I created just for Andarna. I take a deep breath and turn slowly.

And there, swirling along the edge of the roofline, is a shadow of
sparkling night. Xaden.

Footsteps sound on the stairs, and we both look.

“Guess you two had the same idea,” Dain says when he sees us, coming
to stand along the wall beside me. “How long have you been waiting?”

“Not long,” Xaden answers.
“Hours,” I say simultaneously.