Fourth Wing (The Empyrean #1) Read Online Rebecca Yarros

Categories Genre: Dragons, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Tags Authors: Series: The Empyrean Series by Rebecca Yarros
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Total pages in book: 215
Estimated words: 206625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1033(@200wpm)___ 827(@250wpm)___ 689(@300wpm)
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“What kind of deal leaves you with scars like that?”

Conflict rages in his eyes, but then he sighs. “The kind where I take personal responsibility for the loyalty of the hundred and seven kids the rebellion’s leaders left behind, and in return, we’re allowed to fight for our lives in the Riders Quadrant instead of being put to death like our parents.” He averts his gaze. “I chose the chance of death over the certainty.”

The cruelty of the offer and the sacrifice he made to save the others hits like a physical blow. I cradle his cheek and guide his face back to mine. “So if any of them betray Navarre…” I lift my brows.

“Then my life is forfeit. The scars are a reminder.”

It’s why Liam says he owes him everything. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.” Especially when he wasn’t the one who led the rebellion.

He looks at me like he sees into the very depths of who I am. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

I grab his hand as he moves to stand. “Stay.”

“I shouldn’t.” Two lines appear between his brows as he searches my eyes. “People will talk.”

“When did I ever give you the impression that I give a fuck what people think?” I use his earlier words against him and sit up, curling my hand around the section of his neck that bears his relic. “Stay with me, Xaden. Don’t make me beg.”

“We both know this is a bad idea.”

“Then it’s our bad idea.”

His shoulders dip, and I know I’ve won. He’s mine for the night. We take turns sneaking out long enough to clean up, and then he slides into bed behind me. “Only within these walls,” he says quietly, and I understand what he means.

“Only within these walls,” I agree. It’s not like we’re in a relationship or anything. That would be…disastrous given the chain of command. “We’re riders, after all.”

“I just don’t trust my temper if anyone says—”

I brush a kiss over his mouth, silencing him. “I know what you’re saying. It’s…sweet.”

He nips at my skin. “I’m not sweet. Please don’t mistake any part of me for soft or kind. That will only get you hurt, and whatever you do…” He buries his face in my neck, inhaling deeply. “Don’t fall for me.”

I stroke my hand over his marked arm and pray that’s not exactly what I’m doing. This overwhelming juxtaposition of longing and satisfaction in my chest has to be the aftereffects of coming not once but three times, right? It can’t be more.

“Violence?”

I look out my window at the infinite black sky and change the topic, my eyelids growing heavier by the second. “Why did you guess I could wield lightning?”

He stretches just enough to tuck my head under his chin. “I thought you did it the first night Tairn channeled power to you, but I wasn’t sure, so I didn’t say anything.”

“Really?” I blink, thinking back, but my brain is full of a pleasant, dull hum as sleep fights to pull me under. “When?” My eyes drift shut.

His arms tighten around me as he tucks me closer, the backs of my thighs pressed tight against his pants as I start to drift off.

“The first time you kissed me.”



When I wake, Xaden is gone, but that’s not exactly a surprise. Him staying the night to begin with? Now that was the shocker.

Finding a jar on my nightstand with a handful of spring violets? My heart swells. I’m in so much fucking trouble.

He even moved all the debris to a pile in the corner, which means he must have used his shadows while I was sleeping because I didn’t hear a thing.

I’m still exhausted, but I dress and pin my hair up quickly, noting the sun has already risen. With Liam in the infirmary, I’ll be solo for my Archives trip today, but I might be able to sneak in to see him on the way back.

I’m lacing my boots when there’s a knock at my door.

“You have to be kidding,” I say loudly enough for the knocker to hear. “Just because Liam is healing doesn’t mean I need another”—I wrench the door open and stumble over the last word—“bodyguard.”

Professor Carr stands in my hallway, his hair standing on end as he looks at me with scientific appraisal, then lifts his eyebrows as he stares past me into the wreckage of my room. “We have work to do.”

“I have Archives duty,” I argue.

He snorts. “You’re off Archives duty until we can be sure you’re not going to burn the place down. Lightning and paper don’t mix well. Trust me, Sorrengail, the scribes aren’t going to want you anywhere near their precious books, and from the looks of it, you can’t even control your powers in your sleep.”

I try to ignore the sting of his words, since he’s far off, but end up following him down the hall when he leaves. “Where are we going?”


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