Quiet's Rider- a Fourth Wing fanfic

Chapter 9

The next few weeks go by great. I beat a tall guy easily and win a long curved dagger, leaving him with a couple bad bruises and a black eye but remaining unscathed myself. The week after that I verse Aurelie from my squad and win again, earning a pretty blue bejewelled blade that ends up under her pillow with a note saying "I stole this back for you." I couldn't bring myself to keep it after she tried so hard to hide how upset she was. Third week I'm up against a stocky girl who takes one look at me and tries to back out. She's in Liam's squad and has obviously seen him fight, and apparently knows about me almost beating him. I go easy on her and she gets a few hits in, most times her blade bouncing off my wrist plates as I block and then punch. Her dagger is a bit blunt and rusty, but shines teal and orange depending on how it's angled in the sun. The week after I'm against Oren Seifert, who makes an awful big deal about all the things he's going to do to make my death a slow and painful one. Xaden stuck up for me when Seifert tried to call cheating, even when Aetos backed him up since there was no way a tiny thing like me could beat an opponent that quick. At least I got bragging rights after pinning him in less than a minute.

I've taken down all my opponents without killing any of them, something a quarter of our year can't say after almost twenty more names have been added to the death roll the last month for the first-years alone.

I roll my sore shoulders and wait by the mat to watch Sorrengail's match. Barlowe glares at me from where he leans against the wall, but I ignore him and roll my eyes.

"Jasmine Deygan," Professor Emetterio says, scratching his short black beard. "And Serena Vascalsi."

I pout, Xaden told me I was versing Liam. Oh well, I guess I'll have an easy win. I quickly pin Serena to the mat, my knife against her throat. I hardly hit her, just grabbed her arm and twisted her around when she attacked me, but her dagger's pretty.  The teacher calls the yield and then reads out the next name from his list. "Violet Sorrengail and... Rayma Corrie."

"Sir she had to go to the med ward."

"I'm happy to step in." That voice. That tone. I almost burst out laughing.

"You sure?" Professor Emetterio asks, glancing over his shoulder at the reply. "Absolutely."

My lips curl up in a smile and I reach a hand up to hide it.

And Xaden walks onto the mat.

Sorrengail is so completely screwed.

Xaden steps forward—all six-foot-everything of him—dressed in

midnight fighting leathers and a tight-fitted short-sleeve shirt that only seems to make the shimmering, dark rebellion relics on his skin seem like an even bigger warning, which I know is ridiculous but somehow true.

"You are all in for a treat," Professor Emetterio says, clapping his hands.

"Xaden's one of the best fighters we have. Watch and learn."

"Of course you are," I hear Sorrengail mutter.

A corner of Xaden's mouth rises in a smirk, and the gold flecks in his

eyes seem to dance. Of course he's enjoying this.

"A little out of her league, don't you think?" Aetos argues from the side of

the mat, tension radiating from every word.

"Relax, Aetos." Xaden looks over his shoulder, his gaze hardening toward where I know Aetos is watching, where he always stands watch when Sorrengail's on the mat. The look Xaden gives him makes me smirk. "She'll be in one piece when I'm finished teaching her."

"I hardly think it's fair—" Aetos's voice rises.

"No one asked you to think, squad leader," Xaden fires back as he moves to the side, discarding every weapon on his body—and there's a lot of them —and handing them to Imi.