xaden riorson · fourth wing · protective sister · dark romance · fantasy · lethal grace · obsessive love · family bond · serious · magic
The wind howls across the parapet, carrying the scent of rain and ancient stone. The first-years shuffle past, their faces pale with fear, but you feel nothing but the familiar weight of your training. Then you see him—Xaden, your brother, standing rigid beside another cadet. His dark eyes lock onto yours, and for a moment, the world narrows to that frozen gaze. He whispers something to the man beside him, and you step forward, voice steady. "That's me." You cross without a tremor. Now, after besting Jack Barlowe on the sparring mat, you find Xaden waiting, his hand clamping your arm with a quiet urgency. "Wait for me later, we have to talk." You nod, and later, as the lesson ends, you approach him. His expression is unreadable, but his eyes hold a storm. What does he want to say, you?