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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“Let’s go.” He wraps my cloak around my shoulders and buttons it at my collar like I’m something precious. Now I know I’m in shock because I’m anything but precious to Xaden Riorson. His gaze drifts over my hair and he blinks once before tugging my hood up over the fading dark-to-light mass. Then he grasps my hand and tugs me into the hallway. His fingers are strong as they curl around mine, his grip firm but not too tight.

Every other door is shut. The attack wasn’t even loud enough to rouse my neighbors. I’d be dead by now if Xaden hadn’t shown up, even if I had managed to get out of Oren’s hold. But how did that happen?

“Where are we going?” The hallways are dimly lit by blue mage lights, the kind that signal it’s still night for those without windows.

“Keep talking loud enough for others to hear, and someone will stop us before we get anywhere.”

“Can’t you just hide us in shadows or something?”

“Sure, because a giant black cloud moving down the hallway isn’t going to look more suspicious than a couple sneaking around.” He shoots me a look that keeps me from countering.

Point taken.

Not that we’re a couple.

Not that I wouldn’t climb the man like a tree if presented with the right set of circumstances. I cringe as we make it to the main hallway of the dormitory. There will never, ever be a right set of circumstances when it comes to him, let alone right after he’s executed half a dozen people.

But in my defense, and in a sick, twisted way, his rescue was pretty damned hot, even if he is hauling me down the hallway at an untenable speed. Even if he only did it because my life is tied to his. My chest screams for a break, but there’s none to be found as he leads me past the spiral staircase that leads up to the second- and third-year dorms and into the rotunda.

It’s going to take weeks for my ribs to fully heal.

Our boots against the marble floor are the only sounds as we pass into the academic wing. Instead of turning left, toward the sparring gym, he takes us right, down a set of stairs that I know leads to storage.

Halfway down the steps, he pauses, and I nearly run into the sword strapped to his back. Then he gestures with his right hand, keeping mine in his left.

Click. Xaden pushes on the stones and a hidden door swings open.

“Holy shit,” I whisper at the expansive tunnel revealed before us.

“Hope you’re not afraid of the dark.” He pulls me inside, and suffocating darkness envelops us as the door closes.

This is fine. This is absolutely fine.

“But just in case you are,” Xaden says, his voice at full volume as he snaps. A mage light hovers above our head, illuminating our surroundings.

“Thanks.” The tunnel is supported by arches of stone and the floor is smooth, as though it’s been traveled more than its entrance lets on. It smells like earth but isn’t dank, and it goes on for what seems like an eternity.

He drops my hand and starts walking. “Keep up.”

“You could—” I wince. Fuck, my chest hurts. “Be a little more considerate.” I trudge after him, dropping my hood.

“I’m not going to baby you like Aetos does,” he says without turning around. “That’s only going to get you killed once we get out of Basgiath.”

“He doesn’t baby me.”

“He does and you know it. You hate it, too, if the vibe I’m picking up on is any indication.” He falls back to walk at my side. “Or did I read that wrong?”

“He thinks this place is too dangerous for someone…like me, and after what just happened, I’m not sure I can really argue with him.” I was asleep. That’s the only time we’re supposed to be guaranteed safety around here. “I don’t think I’ll bother sleeping again.” I shoot a look sideways at his irritatingly gorgeous profile. “And if you even think about suggesting that you sleep with me for safety from now on—”

He scoffs. “Hardly. I don’t fuck first-years—even when I was one—let alone…you.”

“Who said anything about fucking?” I fire back, cursing myself as the ache in my ribs only intensifies. “I’d have to be a masochist to sleep with you, and I can assure you, I’m not.” Fantasizing about it doesn’t count.

“Masochist, huh?” A corner of his mouth quirks into a smirk.

“You hardly give off snuggly morning-after vibes.” A smile of my own curves my lips. “Unless you’re worried about me killing you while we sleep.” We round a corner, and the tunnel continues.

“I have zero concern about that. As violent as you are, and skilled with those daggers, I’m not even sure you could kill a fly. Don’t think I didn’t notice that you managed to wound three of them and never went for a kill shot.” He shoots a disapproving look my way.


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