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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She throws up her hand and looks around the room, as if noticing where we are for the first time, then scrambles backward out of bed, pulling her robe closed. The look in her eyes puts a vise around my chest as she stumbles to the large windows that line my bedchamber.

The windows that look out over the mountain this fortress is built upon down to the valley below and its line of charred trees marking where the earth was scorched all the way to stone and the quiet town—which used to be a city—of Aretia beneath us.

The town we’ve worked our asses off to rebuild from a pile of cinder and ruins.

“Violet?” I keep my shields up, trying to respect her privacy as I walk to her side, but gods, I need to know what she’s thinking.

Her eyes widen as her gaze sweeps over the town, each structure with its identical green roofs, then pauses on the Temple of Amari, which was the most noted landmark besides our library.

“Where are we? And don’t you dare lie to me,” she says. “Not again.”

Not again. “You remember.”

“I remember.”

“Thank gods,” I murmur, shoving my hand into my hair. It’s a good thing, proving that she’s truly healed, but…fuck.

“Where. Are. We?” She bites out every word, her eyes narrowing on me. “Say it.”

“The way you’re looking at me says you already know.” There’s no way this brilliant woman doesn’t recognize that temple.

“This looks like Aretia.” She gestures to the window. “There’s only one temple with those particular columns. I’ve seen the drawings.”

“Yes.” Brilliant. Fucking. Woman.

“Aretia was burned to the ground. I’ve seen those drawings, too, the ones the scribes brought back for the public notices. My mother told me she saw the embers with her own eyes, so where are we?” Her voice rises.

“Aretia.” It feels incredibly freeing to tell her the truth.

“Rebuilt or never burned?” She turns her back on me.

“In the process of rebuilding.”

“Why haven’t I read about this?”

I start to tell her, but she holds up a hand and I wait. It only takes her a minute to work it out, too.

She points to my rebellion relic and says, “Melgren can’t see the outcome when more than three of you are together. That’s why you’re not allowed to assemble.”

I can’t help it. I smile. This brilliant fucking woman is mine. Or was mine. Will be mine again if I have anything to say about it. Which I probably don’t. I sigh, losing the smile immediately. Fuck.

No, I’m not giving up until she tells me to.

Things might be complicated, but so are both of us.

“That and we’re not big enough to warrant the attention of the scribes anymore. We’re not hidden. We’re just not…advertising our existence.” Which is also the reason this place is still technically…mine. Nobles weren’t exactly eager to throw their money at a scorched city or be taxed on unusable land. Eventually they’ll notice. Eventually I’ll lose it. Then I’ll lose my head. “You can know whatever you want. Just ask.”

She stiffens. “Tell me one thing right now.”

“Anything.”

“Is…” Her shoulders stutter as she inhales. “Is Liam really dead?”

Liam. A fresh stab of sorrow pierces my ribs. Heartbeats pass in silence as I try to find the right words, but there aren’t any, so I take from my pocket the palm-size, freshly finished carving of Andarna Liam had been working on.

She turns in my direction, her gaze immediately locking on the figurine, and her eyes water. “It’s my fault.”

“No, it’s mine. If I had just told you everything sooner, you would have been prepared. You probably would have schooled us all on how to kill them.” My soul breaks all over again when she swipes at twin tears with the backs of her hands. I set the carving in her hand. “I know I should have, but I couldn’t bear to burn it. We laid him to rest yesterday. Well, the others did. I haven’t left this room since we got here.” Our gazes collide, and it’s all I can do not to reach for her, but I know I’m the last place she’ll seek comfort. “I haven’t left you.”

“Well, you do have a vested interest in my survival,” she quips with a watery, sarcastic smile. “Give me a second to get dressed, and then we’ll talk.”

“Kicking me out of my own room.” I reach for that sarcastic, teasing tone that used to be so easy when it came to her and back away. “New one.”

“Now, Riorson.”

I can’t keep from wincing. She never uses my last name. Maybe it’s because she doesn’t like to remember that I’m Fen Riorson’s son, and all my father cost her, but I’ve always been Xaden to her. The loss feels like a bottomless abyss, like a death blow. “Bathing chamber is through there.” I point to the far wall and stride for the exit, swinging my sword over my back on the way out.


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