Page 442 - Fourth Wing

Feirge appears from below, Rhiannon’s arms outstretched as they rise

beneath us. Tairn slows just enough to transfer Liam to her. He’s alive—he
has to be. It’s the only outcome I’ll accept.

In my peripherals, I see Cath and other dragons arrive from the north just

as another squad launches from the cliff above.
Baide is airborne behind us, racing toward her asshole of a rider, who is

still gloating on the top of that fucking tower.

“Climb!” I order, unsheathing a blade at my ribs and leaving one hand
free to unsnap the buckles when it’s time.

“You will not unseat yourself!” Tairn bellows at me as we surge forward,

leaving the smaller orange dragon behind us. He swivels his head left,
blasting a stream of fire toward the line of First Wing dragons to warn them

off and succeeding as we barrel past.
A growing power sizzles in my chest as I lock my gaze on Jack. I can see

the sick pleasure on his face as we fly closer, the blood that drips from his

sword. Liam’s blood.
An enormous dragon appears on the horizon. I don’t need to look or even

open my feelings to know it’s Xaden, but I can’t spare a moment for him.
Tairn is climbing faster than we’ve ever climbed, and power is racing along

my skin, scorching my blood.

If this is it, if my power is backlashing, then I’ll be damned if I don’t take
that asshole with me. Tairn is fireproof—but not Jack.

“Faster!” I shout, my voice desperate with worry we won’t make it in

time.
Tairn charges the tower, his wings beating faster and faster, and I

instinctually throw my hands forward, as though I can project all this power

lashing within me toward the enemy who just tried to kill my friend, who
has done his best to kill me at every opportunity.

That sizzle of magic grows to a lethal, swirling vortex of energy, and
though my feet are still firmly grounded, the power rises to a breaking point