Xaden Quotes

“I hold up my middle finger and keep my eyes forward. Not that I don't like Liam, but I'm still pissed at Xaden for assigning him.

Liam snorts and grins, flashing his dimple. 'And now he's glaring. Tell me, is it fun pissing off the most powerful rider in the quadrant?'

'You could try it yourself and find out,' I suggest, opening my notebook to the next empty page. I can't turn around. I won't. Wanting Xaden is fine. It has to be. Indulging the impulses it gives me? That's asinine.

'That's going to be a no from me.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“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.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“Here's the thing, Sorrengail. Hope is a fickle, dangerous thing. It steals your focus and aims it toward the possibilities instead of keeping it where it belongs- on the probabilities.'

'So I'm supposed to what? Not hope that I live? Just plan for death?'

'You're supposed to focus on the things that can kill you so you find ways not to die.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“At some point, you and I are going to have to start trusting each other, Sorrengail. The rest of our lives depend on it.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“I don't think I'll bother sleep 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.' Fantasising about it doesn't count.

'Masochist, huh?' A corner of his mouth quirks up 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.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“Rare abilities, when kept secret, are the most valuable form of currency we possess.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“She could use a little less protection and a little more instruction.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“Go away unless you have something useful to say.'

'Move faster. You'll be less likely to die. How's that for useful?”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“I would strongly recommend you rethink your actions.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“Taking out your enemy before the battle is really smart; I'll give you that,' he whispers, his warm breath brushing the shell of my ear.

Oh gods. He knows what I've been doing. The pain in my arm is nothing compared to the nausea churning in my stomach at the thought of what he might do with that knowledge.

'Problem is, if you aren't testing yourself in here'- he scrapes the dagger down my neck, but there's no warm trickle of blood, so I know he hasn't cut me- 'then you're not going to get any better.'

'You'd rather I die, no doubt,' I fire back, the side of my face pressed into the mat. This isn't just painful, it's humiliating.

'And be denied the pleasure of your company?' he mocks.

'I fucking hate you.' The words are past my lips before I can shut my mouth.

'That doesn't make you special.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“You're all fucking dead.' His voice is eerily calm and all the scarier for it.

Every head in the room turns.

'Riorson!' Orsen's dagger clatters to the floor.

'You think surrendering will save you?' Xaden's lethally soft tone sends goose bumps up my arms. 'It is against our code to attack another rider in their sleep.'

'But you know he never should have bonded her!' Orsen puts his hands up, his palms facing us. 'You of all people have reason enough to want the weakling dead. We're just correcting a mistake.'

'Dragons don't make mistakes.' Xaden's shadows grab every assailant but Orsen by the throat, then constrict. They struggle, but it doesn't matter. Their faces turn people, the shadows holding tight as they sag to their knees, falling in an arc in front of me like lifeless puppets.

I can't find it in my head to pity them.

Xaden prowls forward as though he has all the time in the world and holds out his palm as yet another tendril of darkness lifts my discarded dagger from the floor.

'Let me explain.' Orsen eyes the dagger, and his hands tremble.

'I've heard everything I need to hear.' Xaden's fingers curl around the hilt. 'She should have killed you in the field, but she's merciful. That's not a flaw I possess.' He slashes forward so quickly that I barely catch the move, and Oren's throat opens in a horizontal line, blood streaming down his neck and chest in a torrent.

He grabs for his throat, but it's useless. He bleeds out in seconds, crumpling to the floor. A crimson puddle grows around him.

'Damn, Xaden,' Garrick walks in, sheathing his sword as his gazes rakes over the room. 'No time for questioning?' His glance sweeps to me as if cataloguing injuries, catching on my throat.

'No need for it,' Xaden counters...”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“I'd pay good money to see him lose it. To be the one he lost it with.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“Get your dagger,' he orders.

'What?' My eyes fly wide. He has me defenceless and in the kill position already.

'Get. Your. Dagger,' he repeats, taking my hand in his and retrieving the last blade I have. His fingers curl over mine, clasping the hilt.

Fire races along my skin at the feel of his fingers lacing with mine.

Toxic. Dangerous. Wants to kill you. Nope, doesn't matter. My pulse still skitters like a teenager.

'You're tiny.' He says it like an insult.

'Well aware.' My eyes narrow.

'So stop going for bigger moves that expose you.' He drags the tip of the dagger down his side. 'A rib shot would've worked just fine.' Then he guides our hands around his back, making himself vulnerable. 'Kidneys are a good fit from this angle, too.'

I swallow, refusing to think of other things that are a good fit at this angle.

He leads our hands to his waist, his gaze never leaving mine. 'Chances are, if your opponent is in armour, it's weak here. Those are three easy places you could have struck before your opponent would have had time to stop you.'

They're also fatal wounds, and I've avoided them at all costs.

'Do you hear me?'

I nod.

'Good. Because you can't poison every enemy you come across,' he whispers, and I blanche. 'You're not going to have time to offer tea to some Braevi gryphon rider when they come at you.'

'How did you know?' I finally ask. My muscles lock, including my thighs, which just happen to still be bracketing his hips.

His eyes darken. 'Oh, Violence. You're good, but I've known better poison masters. The trick is to not make it quite so obvious.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“Having one of my favours is more than enough, and we've already reached mutually assured destruction status, Sorrengail. Now, can you push through it, or do you need me to carry you?'

'That sounds more like an insult, not an offer.'

'You're catching on.' But his pace slows to match mine.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“You should show that little trick to Jack Barlowe,' Xaden says, turning his palms upward and offering me my daggers.

'I'm sorry?' This is a trick. It has to be a trick.

He moves closer, and I lift my blade. My heart stumbles, the beat irregular as fear floods my system.

'The neck-snapping first-year who's very publicly vowed to slaughter you,' Xaden clarifies as my blade presses against his cloak at the level of his abdomen. He reaches under my cloak and slides one blade into the sheath at my thigh, then pulls back the side of my cloak and pauses. His gazes locks onto the length of my braid where it falls over my shoulder, and I could swear he stops breathing for a heartbeat before he slides the remaining dagger into one of the sheaths at my ribs. 'He'd probably think twice about plotting your murder if you threw a few daggers at his head.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“She can be taught.'

'She's a quick learner,' I retort.

'That remains to be seen.' He backs up two steps, putting a little space between us before crooking his fingers at me again.

'You're made your damn point,' I snap loud enough that I hear Imogen gasp.

'Trust me, I've barely gotten started.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“You can't interfere!' Tynan shouts at Xaden, but I don't dare look away from my opponent long enough to see how the wingleader reacts.

'No, but I can narrate,' Xaden retorts.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“You're freakishly calm for someone who just heard she's about to be hunted.'

'It's a typical Wednesday for me,' I shrug, ignoring the way his gaze heats my skin. 'And honestly, being hunted by forty-one people is a lot less intimidating than constantly watching dark corners for you.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“I got the message to you just fine, human.' Tairn's head swivels in that snakelike motion that puts me on alert. He's more than agitated.

'And I barely made it.' The words come out clipped through clenched teeth. 'She would have been dead if I'd been thirty seconds later.'

'Seems like you had thirty seconds gifted to you.' Tairn's chest rumbles with a growl.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“I'm not going to tell.'
...
'Interesting,' he says softly. 'We'll see if you keep your word, and if you do, then unfortunately, it looks like I owe you a favour.' Then he steps away, turns, and walks off, heading back toward the staircase in the cliff that leads up to the citadel.

Wait. What?

'You're not going to handle me?' I call after him, shock raising my brows.

'Not tonight!' he tosses over his shoulder.

I scoff. 'What are you waiting for?'

'It's no fun if you expect it,' he answers, striding into the darkness. 'Now get back to bed before your wingleader realises you're out after curfew.'

'What?' I gawk after him. 'You're my wingleader!”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“He always that overprotective?' Xaden grumbles, pressing up from the mat a few inches.

'He cares about me,' I glare at him.

'He's holding you back. Don't worry. Your little poisoning secret is safe with me.' Xaden arches a brow as if to remind me that I'm the keeper of one of his secrets, too. Then he guides our hands back to my ribs and slides the ruby-hilted blade back into its sheath.

The move is unnervingly... hot.

'You're not going to disarm me?' I challenge as he releases his grip and pushes up move, removing his weight from my body. My ribs expand as I take my first full breath.

'Nope. Defenceless women have never been my type. We're done for today.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“I never said I don't think you can cut it, Violet.'

'You say it every day!' I snap. 'You say it when you walk me from formation to class, which I know makes you late for flight line. You say it when you yell at your wingleader when he takes me to the mat-'

'He had no right to-'

'He's my wingleader!' I shrug my tunic over my head. 'He has the right to do whatever he wants- including execute me.'

'And that's why you need to get the hell out of here!' Dain laces his fingers behind his neck, and begins to pace. 'I've been watching, Vi. He's just toying with you, like a cat plays with a mouse before the kill.'

'I've held my own so far!' My satchel is heavy with books as I settle it on my shoulder. 'I've won every challenge-'

'Except today when he wiped the floor with you time and again.' He grasps my shoulders. 'Or did you miss the part when he took every weapon so you knew exactly how easy it is to defeat you?'

I raise my chin and glare at him. 'I was there, and I've survived almost two months in this place, which is more than I can say for a fourth of my year!”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“You know the problem with this place?' I tug my arm back again, but he holds fast. 'Besides you touching things that don't belong to you?' My eyes narrow on him.

'I'm sure you're going to tell me.' My stomach flutters as his thumb brushes my pulse and he releases my wrist.

I answer before I can think better of it. 'Hope.'

'Hope?' He tips his head closer to mine as if he wasn't sure he heard me right.

'Hope.' I nod. 'Someone like you would never get it, but I knew coming here was a death sentence. It didn't matter that I've been trained my entire life to enter the Scribe Quadrant; when General Sorrengail gives an order, you can't exactly ignore it.' Gods, why am I running off at the mouth to this man? What's the worst he'll do? Kill you?

'Sure you can.' He shrugs. 'You just might not like the consequences.'

I roll my eyes and to my utter embarrassment, instead of pulling away now that I'm free, I lean in just a little, like I can siphon off some of his strength. He certainly has enough to spare.

'I knew what the odds were, and I came anyway, concentrating on that tiny percentage of chance that I would live. And then I make it almost two months and I get...' I shake my head, clenching my jaw. 'Hopeful.' The word tastes sour.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“Maybe if you stopped sulking in your self-pity, you'd see that you have everything you need to scale the Gauntlet,' he calls after me, his voice echoing down the hallway.

'My self-what?' I turn around, my jaw dropping.

'People die,' he says slowly, his jaw ticking before he drags in a deep breath. 'It's going to happen over and over again. It's the nature of what happens here. What makes you a rider is what you do after people die. You want to know why you're still alive? Because you're the scale I currently judge myself against every night. Every day I let you live, I get to convince myself that there's still a part of me that's a decent person. So if you want to quit, then please, spare me the temptation and fucking quit. But if you want to do something, then do it.'

'I'm too short to span the distance!' I hiss, uncaring that anyone could hear us.

'The right way isn't the only way. Figure it out.' Then he turns and walks away.

Fuck. Him.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“I have zero concerns 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.

'I've never killed anyone,' I whisper, like it's a secret.

'You're going to have to get over that. All we are after graduation are weapons, and it's best if we're honed before leaving the gates.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“What were you doing tonight anyway?'

'What makes you ask?' His tone clearly insinuates that I shouldn't.

Too bad.

'You made it to my room within minutes, and you're not exactly dressed for sleeping.' He's strapped with a sword for crying out loud.

'Maybe I sleep in my armour, too.'

'Then you should pick more trustworthy bedmates.'

He snorts, a flash of a smile appearing for a heartbeat. A real one. Not the fake, forced sneer I'm used to seeing or the cocky little smirk. An honest, heart-stopping smile that I'm anything but immune to.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“You're overstepping.' My nails bite into my palms.

'You haven't begun to see overstepping,' he warns, hid voice dropping low, sending a shiver down my spine. 'Any threat against you is a threat against me, and as we've already established, I have more important things to do than sleep on your floor.'

Heat flushes up my neck and stains my cheeks. 'He is not sleeping in my room.'

'Of course not.' He freaking smirks, and my traitorous stomach dips. 'I had him moved into the one next to yours. Wouldn't want to overstep.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“Sorrengail,' Xaden says, and my eyes fly open. 'You're leaking.' His gaze drops pointedly to my hands.

Where blood is dripping from my fingertips.

Pain erupts, pushing past my mental dam like a raging river at the sight of the mess I've made of my palms. I've shredded them.

'Do something about it,' he orders.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“Why would you do that to him?' I hurl at Xaden, then shake my head. I don't care why. 'Forget it,' I mutter, then march off, heading back toward the spot where Tairn told me to wait.

'Because you put too much faith in him,' Xaden answers anyway, catching up to me without even lengthening his stride. 'And knowing who to trust is the only thing that will keep you alive- keep us alive- not only in the quadrant but after graduation.'

'There is no us,' I say, dodging a racer as she races past. Dragons land left and right, the ground trembling with the force of the riot's movement. I've never seen so many dragons at flight in the same moment.

'Oh, I think you'll find that's no longer the case,' ...”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“I refuse to sleep on your fucking floor like some kind of guard dog.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing