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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One of the purposes of the fables is to teach children about the dangers of too much power. No one wants to become a venin; they’re the monsters that hide beneath our beds when we have nightmares. And we certainly never want to try to control magic without a dragon to ground us. But that’s all they are, children’s bedtime stories. So why did my dad leave me this cryptic note—and hide it inside the book?

“What do you think he was trying to tell you?” Xaden asks.

“I don’t know. Every fable in this book is about how too much power corrupts, so maybe he felt someone in leadership was corrupt.” I glance up at Xaden and joke, “I certainly wouldn’t be surprised if General Melgren ripped a mask off one day and revealed he was a terrifying venin. That man has always given me the creeps.”

Xaden chuckles. “Well, let’s hope not that. My dad used to say venin were biding their time in the Barrens and one day were coming to get us—if we didn’t eat our vegetables.” He glances out the window to his left, and I know he’s remembering his father. “He said one day there would be no magic left in the kingdom if we weren’t careful.”

“I’m sorry—” I start, but when he tenses, I decide a subject change is what he really needs. “So, which mess should we tackle first?”

“I have a better idea of how to spend our night,” he says as he puts another pile of clothes on my bed.

“Oh?” I glance over and catch his eyes darkening as he stares at my mouth. My pulse immediately quickens, the thought of touching him sending a burst of energy through me.

Don’t fall for me…

His words from last night cut a sharp contrast to the way he’s looking at me now.

I take a step backward. “You said not to fall for you. Did you change your mind?”

“Absolutely not.” His jaw tenses.

“Right.” I don’t expect that to hurt as much as it does, which is part of the problem. I’m already too emotionally involved to separate out the sex, no matter how phenomenal it is. “Here’s the thing. I don’t think I can separate sex from emotion when it comes to you.” Well, shit, now I’ve said it. “We’re already too close for that, and if we hook up again, I’m going to eventually fall for you.” My heart pounds at the rushed confession, waiting for his response.

“You won’t.” Something akin to panic flares in his eyes, and he crosses his arms. I swear I can actually see the man building his defenses against his own feelings. “You don’t really know me. Not at my core.”

And whose fault is that?

“I know enough,” I argue softly. “And we’d have all the time in the world to figure it out if you’d stop acting like such an emotional chickenshit and just admit that you’re going to fall for me, too, if we keep this up.” There’s no way he would have designed that saddle, spent all that time training me to fight and fly, if he didn’t feel something. He’s going to have to fight for this, too, or it will never work.

“I have absolutely no intention of falling for you, Sorrengail.” His eyes narrow and he enunciates every word, like I could possibly take that any other way.

Fuck. That. He let me in. He told me about his scars. He had an arsenal crafted for me. He cares. He’s just as wrapped up in this as I am, even if he’s shitty at showing it.

“Ouch.” I wince. “Well, it’s apparent that you’re not ready to admit where this is going. So yeah, I think it’s best we agree that this was just a onetime thing.” I force my shoulders to shrug. “We both needed to blow off some steam, and we did, right?”

“Right,” he agrees, apprehension lining his forehead.

“So the next time I see you, I’ll just act as cool as you are right now and pretend that I’m not remembering what it feels like to have you sliding inside me.” Warm and hard. He really does have an incredible body, but he doesn’t get to dictate what I do with my heart.

He stalks forward with a smirk, his gaze warming every inch of my body. “And I’ll just pretend that I’m not remembering the feel of your soft thighs around my hips or those breathy little sounds you make right before you come.” His teeth rake over his lower lip, and it takes all my willpower not to suck that lip into my mouth.

“And I’ll ignore the memory of your hands biting into my hips, pinning me to the armoire so you could take me deeper, and your mouth on my throat. Easy.” My lips part as I retreat, my heart jumping in the best way when he follows, backing me against the wall.


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