Page 515 - Fourth Wing

The inability to control a powerful signet is just as dangerous to a

rider—and everyone in their vicinity—as never manifesting one.

—MAJOR AFENDRA’S GUIDE TO THE RIDERS QUADRANT
(UNAUTHORIZED EDITION)

CHAPTER

THIRTY-THREE

I’ve never gotten dressed so fast in my entire life, and I’m not even

bothering with the thigh sheaths. “What time is it?” I ask Xaden, pulling on

my formal dress and slippers and blowing my hair out of my face.
Mandatory, urgent formation for the entire quadrant means now.

The wards are falling. How many Navarrians are we going to lose?

“Four fifteen.” He finishes lacing his boots, already armed to the teeth as
I’m picking up my sheaths, pretty sure I’m missing one of them. “You’re

going to freeze out there.”

“I’ll be fine.” I drop to my knees and locate the missing dagger, hauling it
out by the strap of the sheath before standing again.

“Here.” Xaden throws one of his flight jackets over me, trapping my hair.
“If Garrick’s right and we’re under attack, then my guess is they’ll order the

older years to staff the mid-guard posts, so you shouldn’t be out in

formation too long. I can’t stand the thought of you being cold.”
Which means he’ll be leaving.

My heart somersaults as I clumsily shove my arms through the sleeves of
his jacket. He’ll be safe, right? It will just be a midland assignment, and

he’s the most powerful rider in the quadrant.

With my hands full of weapons, I don’t argue about him buttoning the
flight jacket over my chest.