Ruthless 🗡️/ Fourth Wing

Chapter~20

A passage from cadet Nora Freysson - Translated by an unknown Scribe

I've realized that strength does not mean everything. Just because you hold strength, it doesn't mean you are invincible, that you can't be broken. My father was the strongest person I knew. He led a rebellion against the kingdom, a firebrand who fought for freedom with his sword and his soul. And yet, despite all that strength, he still died.

Xaden is the second strongest person I've ever met. I've seen it in his eyes—the way he commands, the way he shapes us, how he teaches, how he sacrifices. When we were children, we trained side by side, his hands teaching me the art of war, just as they were taught to him. He bore scars—deep, ugly marks of mistakes and consequences—gifts from his father, gifts from mine.

He's a warrior, a leader, a son of rebellion. And yet, despite all that power, he is still broken.

I sometimes wonder if strength is enough to shield us from the wounds that matter. The ones that can't be seen.

I could feel Xaden's eyes on me as I grabbed my cloak, the rough fabric a reminder of the fight we'd just survived. The tension between us was thick enough to slice with a knife, and I was doing my best to ignore the tight knot in my chest. But I could still feel the heat of his gaze, the concern he was trying to hide, as if I didn't notice.

"Nora," Xaden's voice broke through the silence. "You're staying in my room again tonight. I'm not letting you out of my sight after what happened today."

I turned around to face him, my fists clenching at my sides. "No. I'm not staying in your room. I can take care of myself."

He stepped closer, his jaw tense. "You've been through enough today. I'm not asking. I'm telling you. I'll make sure you're safe."

The hallway was quieter than usual, the walls closing in as I walked away from him. I couldn't believe he thought he could keep me under his thumb like that. The whole situation was maddening. What made him think I wanted to be treated like I couldn't handle things on my own?

I didn't stop until I reached my new room—my new quarters. The door creaked open slowly, and I stepped inside, hoping for some solitude to clear my head. But as I glanced around, I froze.

Of course. It couldn't be anyone else.

Violet.

I stood in the doorway of the room, my eyes narrowing at Violet as the reality of the situation set in. This was my new reality: sharing space with someone I couldn't stand. How typical.

Violet was lounging on her bed like she owned the place, one leg hanging off the side while she flipped through a book, seemingly unfazed by the tension in the room. I, on the other hand, was about ready to tear through the entire building.

I set my things down on the small desk and let out a sharp breath. This whole situation was beyond frustrating. I hadn't even had time to process everything that had happened today—my fight, the bloodshed, Xaden's ridiculous insistence that I stay under his watch, and now this.

"I'm tired," I muttered, rubbing my forehead as I turned away from her. "I've had a long day, Violet. I don't have the energy for your games tonight."

Violet didn't even look up from her book. "You think I care?"

I couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh, though there was nothing funny about the situation. "Well, just in case you do," I said, crossing the room to the bed, "if you even think about killing me in my sleep, I will haunt your ass for the rest of your life."

Violet didn't react, but I saw the corner of her mouth twitch, just slightly. I didn't expect her to take me seriously, but I meant it. There was no way I was going down without a fight—no matter how much I wanted to sleep.