Page 72 - Fourth Wing

braided before the bells sounded. I’ve been keeping scribe hours for years,

Dain. They’re up an hour earlier. It makes me want to volunteer for
breakfast duty, actually.”

He glances at the tight, silver-tipped braid I’ve pinned into a bun against

the darker hair near the crown of my head. “You should cut it.”
“Don’t start with me.” I shake my head.

“There’s a reason women keep it short here, Vi. The second someone gets

ahold of your hair in the sparring ring—”
“My hair is the least of my concerns in the sparring ring,” I retort.

His eyes widen. “I’m just trying to keep you safe. You’re lucky I didn’t

shove you into Captain Fitzgibbons’s hands this morning and beg him to
take you out of here.”

I ignore the bluster of a threat. We’re wasting time, and there’s one piece
of information I need from Dain. “Why was our squad moved from Second

Wing to Fourth yesterday?”

He stiffens and looks away.
“Tell me.” I need to know if I’m reading into a situation that doesn’t

exist.
“Fuck,” he mutters, ripping his hand over his hair. “Xaden Riorson wants

you dead. It’s common knowledge among the leadership cadre after

yesterday.”
Nope. Not overreacting.

“He moved the squad so he has a direct line to me. So he can do whatever

he wants and no one will question a thing. I’m his revenge against my
mother.” My heart doesn’t even jump at the confirmation of what I already

knew. “That’s what I thought. I just needed to be sure my imagination

wasn’t running away with me.”
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” Dain steps forward and

cups my face, his thumb stroking over my cheekbone in a soothing motion.
“There’s not much you can do.” I push off the wall, stepping out of his