Page 165 of Fourth Wing

His jaw tightens. “There was considerable damage to the outpost, but we lost no riders at Montserrat.”

Thank gods.My knees give out and Dain catches me, pulling me into his familiar hug as relief floods my system.

“She’s fine, Vi,” Dain whispers into my hair. “Mira’s fine.”

I nod, fighting against a swell of emotions to keep my control. I will not break down. I will not cry. I will not show weakness. Not here.

There’s only one place I can go, one person who won’t chide me for crumbling.

The second I have myself in hand, I step out of Dain’s arms.

Xaden is gone.

I skip breakfast and miss formation to head to the flight field, holding myself together long enough to get to the middle of the meadow, where I drop to my knees.

“She’s all right,” I cry, my head falling into my hands. “I didn’t leave her to die. She’s alive.” There’s a ruffle of air and then the hard feel of scales against the backs of my hands. I lean forward into Andarna’s shoulder, sagging against her. “She’s alive. She’s alive. She’s alive.”

I repeat it until I believe it.

…

“Do you have any siblings?” I ask Xaden the next time we’re on the mat. Maybe it’s Mira’s comment about me not knowing enough about him, or maybe it’s my own conflicting emotions, but he knows way more about me than I do him, and I need to level this playing field.

“No.” He pauses in surprise. “Why?”

“Just asking.” I take a fighting stance. “Let’s go.”

The next day, I ask him what his favorite food is in the middle of Battle Brief, using our mental connection. Pretty sure I hear him drop something at the back of the room before he answers.

“Chocolate cake. Stop being weird.”

I grin.

A day later, after Tairn puts me through an absolutely draining set of advanced flight maneuvers most third-years couldn’t stay seated through, either, we’re perched on a mountain peak with Tairn and Sgaeyl when I ask him how he knows Liam, just to see if he’ll tell me the truth.

“We were fostered together. What is with all the questions lately?”

“I barely know you.”

“You know me well enough.”He shoots me a look that says he’s over it.

“Hardly. Tell me something real.”

“Like what?”He turns in his seat to face me.

“Something like what those silver scars on your back are from.”I hold my breath, waiting for the answer, waiting for him to say anything that might let me in.

Even from twenty feet away, I can see him tense.“Why do you want to know?”

My grip tightens on the pommel scales.I instinctively knew the scars were private, but his reaction says there’s more to them than just a painful memory.“Why don’t you want to tell me?”

Sgaeyl startles, then launches into the air, leaving Tairn and me behind.

“Are you pushing for a reason?”Tairn asks.

“Can you give me one not to?”

“He cares for you. That’s already hard enough for him.”

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