Page 446 - Fourth Wing

I nod, thinking of all the times I aimed for the shoulder instead of the

heart. The poisons I used to incapacitate, not murder. I left Oren
unconscious on the ground at Threshing and didn’t even go for the throat

when he invaded my room.

All because I didn’t want to be a killer.
“I’ve never seen anything like it. I don’t think there’s been a lightning

wielder in more than a century—” He pauses. “Violet?”

“I killed him,” I whisper, studying the central chest plate of the saddle.
That has to be where everything connects, right? He has to get out of this

thing somehow.

Mom will be so proud to know I’m just like the others now. Just like her.
My empty belly turns over again, and I retch like my body is trying to expel

the guilt.
“Shit.” He rubs his hand over my back. “It’s all right, Vi.”

It stops sooner this time, and Dain pulls me against his chest, rocking

gently as his hand makes soothing motions up and down my spine.
“I killed him.” Why the hell is that all I can say? I’m a broken music box,

repeating the same melody over and over, and everyone can see me.
Everyone knows I can’t handle the consequences of my own signet.

“I know. I know.” He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “And if you

don’t want to use that kind of power again, you don’t have to—”
“Get the fuck away from her with that nonsense.” Xaden pushes Dain’s

chest and tugs me out of his arms, then grips my shoulders, turning me to

face him. “You killed Barlowe.”
I nod.

“Lightning. Your signet is lightning, isn’t it?” He looks at me with such

intensity, as though my answer is the key to whatever he needs.
“Yes.”

His jaw flexes and his head bobs once. “I thought so, but I wasn’t sure
until I saw you take that tower down.”