Page 433 - Fourth Wing

with mine as we approach our section of the field.

“What makes you so sure?”
“We have you, Tairn, Riorson, and Sgaeyl. And obviously—me.” She

grins. “There’s no way we’re losing this.”

“You are certainly—” My words die as Tairn comes into full view.
He stands tall and proud at the front of our section, not bothering to give

deference to Cath as Dain’s dragon, but it’s not his position that steals my

breath. It’s the saddle strapped across his back that has me gawking.
“I hear it’s all the fashion,” Tairn brags.

“That’s…” I don’t even have words. The black metal bands look to be

intricately linked as they loop around each foreleg and come together at the
front of his chest, forming a triangular plate before rising above his

shoulders to a saddle with strapped, secure stirrups. “That’s a saddle.”
“That’s cool, that’s what that is.” Rhiannon thumps my back. “And it

looks way more comfortable than Feirge’s bony spine, I’ll tell you that. See

you up there.” She walks past Tairn toward her own mount.
“I can’t use that.” I shake my head. “It’s not allowed.”

“I decide what’s allowed and what’s not,” Tairn growls, lowering his
head to my level and blasting me with a chuff of steam. “There is no rule

that says a dragon cannot modify their seat to serve their rider. You have

worked just as hard—if not harder—than every rider in this quadrant. Just
because your body is built differently than the others doesn’t mean you don’t

deserve to keep your seat. It takes more than a few strips of leather and a

pommel to define a rider.”
“He’s right, you know,” Xaden agrees as he approaches, and I briefly

wonder where he’d gone that he’s back so quickly.

“No one asked you.” My pulse jolts and my skin flushes at the sight of
him. Our uniforms make every rider look good, but Xaden takes even that

up a notch with the way it cuts across the muscled lines of his body.
“If you don’t use it, I’ll take personal offense.” He folds his arms across