Page 199 of Fourth Wing

“I’m great. You’re great. That was…”

“Great?” he supplies.

“Exactly.”

“I was going to use the word ‘explosive,’ but I think ‘great’ covers it.” His fingers tangle in my hair. “I fucking love your hair. If you ever want to bring me to my knees or win an argument, just let it down. I’ll get the point.”

I grin as the breeze rustles through the brown-to-silver strands.

Wait. There shouldn’t be a breeze.

My stomach drops as I push myself up on an elbow to look over Xaden’s shoulder. “Oh no, no, no.” My hand covers my mouth as I glimpse the destruction. “I’m pretty sure I blew your window out.”

“Unless there’s someone else throwing lightning around, then yeah, that was you. See what I mean? Explosive.” He laughs.

I gasp. That’s why he threw himself sideways, to shield me from my own wreckage. “I’m so sorry.” I scan over the damage, but there’s only sand on the bed. “I’m going to have to get that under control.”

“I threw up a shield. Don’t worry about it.” He pulls me back in for a kiss.

“What are we going to do?” Repairing a window is on a whole different level from replacing an armoire.

“Right now?” He strokes my hair back from my face again. “That was two, if we’re still counting, and I say we clean up, get the sand out of the bed, and get you to three, maybe four if you’re still awake.”

My jaw drops. “After I just shattered your window?”

He smiles andshrugs. “I’ve got us covered just in case you decide to take out thedresser next.”

I gaze down at his body, and the craving for him ignites again. How could it not when he looks like the gods blessed him and feels like the gods blessedme? “Yeah, let’s go for three.”

We’re going for five, my hips in Xaden’s hands while I slowly ride him, when I trail my fingers down the black swirls of the relic on his neck. I’m not sure how either of us is still moving, and yet we can’t seem to stop tonight, can’t get enough. “It really is beautiful,” I tell him, rising up only to sink back down again, taking him deep within me.

His dark eyes flare as his hands flex. “I used to think of it as a curse, but now I realize it’s a gift.” He arches his hips, hitting me at a sublime angle.

“A gift?” Gods, he’s robbing me of every thought.

Someone pounds on the door.

“Go the fuck away!” Xaden snarls, reaching up my back and hooking onto my shoulder to pull me down into his next thrust.

I fall forward, muffling my moan in his neck.

“I really wish I could.” There’s enough regret in the voice that I believe it.

“Someone better be dead if I get out of this bed, Garrick,” Xaden retorts.

“I think there’rea lotof people dead, which is why they’re calling the full quadrant to formation, jackass!” Garrick growls.

Both Xaden and I startle, our gazes colliding in shock. I slide off him, and Xaden covers me with his blanket before shoving his legs into his leathers and striding for the door.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he asks through a tiny opening in the door.

“Grab your flight leathers, and you’d better bring Sorrengail with you, too,” Garrick says. “We’re under attack.”

The inability to control a powerful signet is just as dangerous to a rider—and everyone in their vicinity—as never manifesting one.

—Major Afendra’s Guide to the Riders Quadrant

(Unauthorized Edition)

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