Page 427 - Fourth Wing

“Damn, Violet.” Dain runs a hand through his damp hair. “Are you

hungry? Do you want to get breakfast?”
“No, dumbass, she doesn’t, obviously.” Xaden’s snide commentary fills

my head.

“Knock that the fuck off,” I toss back. “No thank you.”
“Look who figured it out.” Xaden’s mouth quirks upward for a heartbeat.

Another set of footsteps echoes up the staircase and I hold my breath, my

eyes locked on the doorway.
Professor Markham pauses when he sees the three of us outside his

office, then continues toward us. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Just tell me if she’s dead.” I move into the center of the hall.
Markham looks at me with more than his fair share of disapproval. “You

know I can’t give out classified information. If there’s anything to be
discussed, we’ll do it in Battle Brief.”

“We were there. If it’s classified, then we already know about it,” I

counter, my hands starting to tremble as I squeeze the pewter harder and
harder.

Xaden takes the mug from me.
“It’s hardly appropriate for me to—”

“She’s my sister,” I plead. “I deserve to know if she’s alive, and I deserve

not to hear about it in a room full of riders.”
His jaw tightens. “There was considerable damage to the outpost, but we

lost no riders at Montserrat.”

Thank gods. My knees give out and Dain catches me, pulling me into his
familiar hug as relief floods my system.

“She’s fine, Vi,” Dain whispers into my hair. “Mira’s fine.”

I nod, fighting against a swell of emotions to keep my control. I will not
break down. I will not cry. I will not show weakness. Not here.

There’s only one place I can go, one person who won’t chide me for
crumbling.