Violet Quotes

“You're still looking.'
...
'You make it hard to look away.'
...
'I'm over here keeping my hands and memories to myself because you asked me to, and you're fucking me with your eyes. That's not playing fair.'
...
'Told you to stop staring.'
...
'If you'd just man up and admit there's something between us, I would strip down to my skin so you could see every single inch of me. And once I had you begging, I'd drop down to my knees, undo those flight leathers you're wearing, and wrap my lips around-'

Xaden chokes.

Every head in the dining hall turns his way, and Garrick pounds on his back until Xaden waves him off, taking a drink of his water.

I grin, which earns me about six looks of confusion from our table and one set of rolled eyes from Liam.

'You're going to be the death of me.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“Remember that folklore is passed from one generation to the next to teach us about our past. If we lose it, we lose the links to our past. It only takes one desperate generation to change history- even erase it.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“There's nowhere in existence you could go that I wouldn't find you, Violence.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“Bet it would be even more awkward if I kissed you now, huh?'

Yes, please.

'The next time we kiss had better not be just to piss off Dain.' The next time had better only be because we want it.

'Next time, huh?' His gaze lowers to my mouth again.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“Fuck me, this hair,' he says, then hovers his mouth over mine. 'And this mouth. All I ever want to do is kiss you, even when you piss me off.'

'So kiss me.' I arch into him and claim his lips, kissing him like this might be the only time I'll get the chance.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“If I get my hands on you, really, honestly get my hands on you, I don't know if I'll be able to stop.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“Seriously, I can't think when you look at me like that.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“Violet,' Xaden groans against my mouth. The plea in his tone floods my veins with a whole different form of power. Knowing he's just as affected by our attraction as I am is a rush. 'This isn't what you want.'

'It's exactly what I want,' I counter. I want to replace the anger with lust, the death of the day with the pulse-pounding assurance of my own life, and I know he's capable of delivering all that and more. 'You said to do whatever I need.' I arch my back, pressing the tips of my breasts against his chest.

His breathing changes, and there's a war in his eyes that I'm determined to win.

It's time to stop dancing around this unbearable tension and break it.

He leans down, his mouth only inches from mine. 'And I'm telling you that I'm the last thing you need.' The barely leashed growl of his voice rumbles up through his chest, and every nerve ending in my body flares to life.

'Are you suggesting someone else?' My heart races as I chance calling his bluff.

'Fuck no.' The unmistakable flare of jealousy narrows his eyes for a heartbeat before his hips pin mine to the door, and my instant relief at his answer is replaced by a jolt of pure lust. I can see that infamous control of his hovering on the edge, balancing precariously on the point of a knife. All he needs is one. Little. Push. And I'm about to shamelessly shove.

'Good.' I tilt my head up to his and draw his bottom lip between mine, sucking before gently nipping him with my teeth. 'Because I only want you, Xaden.'

The words breach something within him, and he gives.

Finally.

One mouths collide, and the kiss is hot and hard and completely out of our control.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“Fuck, I'm never going to get enough of you, am I?”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“I may not want to appear different than every other rider on this field, but I already am.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“I reach out and trace the dragon relic on his back, my fingers lingering on the raised silver scars, and he stiffens. They're all short, thin lines, too precise to be a whip, no rhyme or reason to their pattern but never intersecting. 'What happened?' I whisper, holding my breath.

'You really don't want to know.' He's tense, but doesn't move away from my touch.

'I do.' They don't look accidental. Someone hurt him deliberately maliciously, and it makes me want to hunt the person down and do the same to them.

His jaw flexes as he looks over his shoulder, and his eyes meet mine. I bite my lip, knowing this moment can go either way. He can shut me out like always or he can actually let me in.

'There's a lot of them,' I murmur, dragging my fingers down his spine.

'A hundred and seven.' He looks away.

The number makes my stomach lurch, and then my hand pauses. A hundred and seven. That's the number Liam mentioned. 'That's how many kids under the age of majority carry the rebellion relic.'

'Yeah.'

I shift so I can see his face. 'What happened, Xaden?'

He brushes my hair back, and the look that passes is over his face is so close to tender that it makes my heart stutter. 'I saw the opportunity to make a deal,' he says softly. 'And I took it.'

'What kind of deal leaves you with scars like that?'

Conflict rages in his eyes, but then he sighs. 'The kind where I take personal responsibility for the loyalty of the hundred and seven kids the rebellion's leaders left behind, and in return, we're allowed to fight for our lives in the Riders Quadrant instead of being put to death like our parents.' He averts his gaze. 'I chose the chance of death over the certainty.'

The cruelty of the offer and the sacrifice he made to save the others hits like a physical blow. I cradle his cheek and guide his face back to mine. 'So if any of them betray Navarre...' I lift my brows.

'Then my life is forfeit. The scars are a reminder.'

It's why Liam says he owes him everything. 'I'm so sorry that happened to you.' Especially when he wasn't the one who led the rebellion.

He looks at me like he sees into the very depths of who I am. 'You have nothing to apologise for.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“Would you not call yourself fragile?'

'I am who I am.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“I'm trying to do the honourable thing and not take advantage of you after you've had a shit day.' His jaw flexes.

I smile and kiss the side of his mouth. 'It's always a shit day around here. And it's not taking advantage when I'm asking' -my teeth nip at his lips- 'correction, begging you to make my day better.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“I love his loss of control just as much as I fear my own.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“Did I...'

'Ser the curtains on fire?' He lifts a brow. 'Yes.'

'Oh.' I can't find it in me to be embarrassed, so I brush the backs of my fingers across the stubble along his jaw. 'And you put it out.'

'Yes. Right before I destroyed your throwing target.' He grimaces. 'I'll get you a new one.'

I glance over at the armoire. 'And we...'

'Yep.' He lifts his brows. 'and I'm pretty sure you need a new chair, too.'

'That was...' I didn't even get the man's pants entirely off, and my dressing gown is haphazardly hanging from one shoulder.

'Frighteningly perfect.' He cups the side of my face. ' We should get you cleaned up and to sleep. We can worry about... your room tomorrow. Ironically, your bed is the only thing we didn't wreck.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“Take me to bed,' I mentally blurt out, then sink down in my seat a little. I don't regret it, though. Today of all days, I need a distraction.

'It might be awkward in front of all these people.'

I can't see him from where I know he's sitting at the top of the Battle Brief room, but his words feel like a caress on the back of my neck. 'Might be worth it.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“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.'

I scoff. 'He cares about keeping me alive. There's a difference.'

'Not for him there isn't.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“You don't have to use your powers, Vi,' Dain starts, his voice soft and comforting.

'Stop. Fucking. Coddling. Her.' Xaden bites out every word at Dain. 'She is not a child. She's a full-grown woman. A rider. Start treating her like one and at least have the decency to give her the truth.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“You just want her to be like you,' Dain argues. 'A cold-blooded killer. Soon you'll be telling her that it's all right, you get used to the killing.'

I inhale a sharp breath.

Xaden nails him with a glare. 'The blood in my veins is as warm as yours, Aetos, and if it's my job you want next year, then you'd better start understanding that you never get used to killing, but you do understand that it's necessary.' He turns back to me, his dark gaze boring into mine. 'This isn't primary school. This is war- and you heard me say it once before, but the ugly truth those not on the front lines choose to forget is there are always body bags in war.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“It's not the same for you. You wanted a quiet life full of books and facts. You wanted to record the battles, not be in them. There is nothing wrong with you. You get to be angry that you killed a man today. You get to be angry that man tried to kill your friend. You get to feel however you want within these walls.'

He's close enough now that I can feel his body heat through the thin cotton of my dressing gown.

'But not outside them.' It's not a question.

'We're riders,' he says, as if that's explanation enough. He takes hold of my hands and brings them to his chest. 'So do whatever you need to get it out. You want to yell? Yell at me. You want to hit something? Hit me. I can take it.'

Hitting him is the last thing I want to do, and suddenly, I'm done fighting it.

'Come on,' he whispers. 'Show me what you've got.'

I surge up on my toes and kiss him.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“You'll hate me in the morning. You. Don't. Really. Want. This.' He punctuates each word with a kiss along my jaw, making his way to my ear. He bites the lobe, and my core liquifies, going molten.

'Stop telling me what I want.' I breathe raggedly and thread my fingers through the short strands of his hair, tilt my head, giving him better access.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“Tell me you're alright.' ...

'I'm perfect.' Better than perfect.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“I grab his hand as he moves to stand. 'Stay.'

'I shouldn't.' Two lines appear between his brows as he searches my eyes. 'People will talk.'

'When did I ever give you the impression that I give a fuck what people think?' I use his earlier words against him and sit up, curling my hand around the section of his neck that bears the relic. 'Stay with me, Xaden. don't make me beg.'

'We both know this is a bad idea.'

'Then it's out bad idea.'

His shoulders dip, and I know I've won. He's mine for the night.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“You said not to fall for you. Did you change your mind?'

'Absolutely not.' His jaw tenses.

'Right.' I don't expect that to hurt as much as it does, which is part of the problem. I'm already too emotionally involved to separate out the sex, no matter how phenomenal it is. 'Here's the thing. I don't think I can separate sex from emotion when it comes to you.' Well, shit, now I've said it. 'We're already too close for that, and if we hook up again, I'm going to eventually fall for you.' My heart pounds at the rushed confession, waiting for his response.

'You won't.' Something akin to panic flares in his eyes, and he crosses his arms. I swear I can actually see the man building his defenses against his own feelings. 'You don't really know me. Not at my core.'

And whose fault is that?

'I know enough,' I argue softly. 'And we'd have all the time in the world to figure it out if you'd stop acting like such an emotional chickenshit and just admit that you're going to fall for me, too, if we keep this up.' There's no way he would have designed that saddle, spent all that time training me to fight and fly, if he didn't feel something. He's going to have to fight for this, too, or it will never work.

'I have absolutely no intention of falling for you, Sorrengail.' His eyes narrow and he enunciates every word, like I could possibly take that any other way.

Fuck. That. He let me in. He told me about his scars. He had an arsenal crafted for me. He cares. He's just as wrapped up in this as I am, even if he's shitty at showing it.

'Ouch,' I wince. 'Well, it's apparent that you're not ready to admit where this is going. So yeah, I think it's best we agree that this was just a onetime thing.' I force my shoulders to shrug. 'We both needed to blow off some steam, and we did, right?'

'Right,' he agrees, apprehension lining his forehead.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“You want me,' I put my hand on his chest and feel his heart pounding. 'And I know that scares you even though I want you just as badly.'

He stiffens.

'But here's the thing,' I hold his gaze, knowing he could bolt at any second. 'You don't get to dictate how I feel. You might give the orders out there, but not in here. You don't get to tell me we can fuck but I can't fall for you. That's not fair. You can only respect what I choose to do. So we're not doing this again until I want to risk my heart. And if I fall, then that's my problem, not yours. You're not responsible for my choices.'

His jaw clenches once. Twice. And then he pushes off the wall, giving me space. 'I think that's for the best. I'm graduating soon, and who knows where I'll end up. Besides, you and I are chained together because of Sgaeyl and Tairn, which complicates... everything.' He retreats one step at a time, the distance more than just physical. 'Besides, with all that pretending, I'm sure we'll eventually forget last night ever happened.'

The way we're looking at each other tells me neither of us is ever going to forget. And he can avoid it all he wants, but we're going to end up right here time and again until he's willing to recognise what this is. Because if there's one thing I know for certain, it's that I'm going to fall for this man- if I haven't already- and he's halfway there, too, whether he realises it or not.

Turning my back on him, I walk to the shattered halves of my throwing target and pick them up before heading back across my room. 'I never figured you for a liar, Xaden.' I shove the halves at his chest. 'You can get me a new one when you're ready to come to your senses. Then we'll blow off some steam.' I throw the aggravating man out.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“You told me to get over myself, remember? So why the fuck would you care if I'm upset?' I fold my arms across my chest, choosing anger over lust.

'I told you that you'd have to develop a stomach for killing. I never said you'd get over it.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“What is wrong with me?' I shake my head, my hands clenching into fists. 'Any other rider would be thrilled.' Even now, I feel the power simmering just beneath my skin.

'You've never been like any other rider.' He moves closer but doesn't touch me.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“... my world narrows to this kiss, this minute, this man. Mine. In this moment, Xaden Riorson is mine.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“Shit. Are you alright?' he asks.

'I'm fine. You won't break me.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“I'm not sweet. Please don't mistake any part of me for soft or kind. That will only get your hurt, and whatever you do...' He buries his face in my neck, inhaling deeply. 'Don't fall for me.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing