# CHAPTER 33: Beyond the Wards — The Game Begins
Hello everyone, it's me again! How are you all doing? I hope you're ready, because today we are stepping into one of the most intense, heart-pounding chapters of *Fourth Wing* yet. We're about to watch Violet get yanked out of the warm, secret cocoon of Xaden's room and thrown straight into the chaos of War Games, where every choice matters, every word cuts deeper, and the wards themselves are about to become a distant memory. So buckle up, grab your flight leathers, and let's dive into CHAPTER 33 together!
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The night was still clinging to the world when Xaden's hands cradled Violet's face, his voice a low, urgent whisper against her skin. They had been stolen moments, hidden kisses, a universe contained in a single room — but now reality was crashing in like a battering ram. If he had to go, he promised, Sgaeyl would drag him back in a few days. A kiss, hard and quick, and then those devastating words: *"Wanting you will be the death of me. Let's go."*
And just like that, the beautiful fantasy shattered.
But here was the glorious, ridiculous irony: in a war college drowning in complete and utter chaos, nobody noticed a slightly disheveled Violet Sorrengail slipping out of her wingleader's room and melting into a sea of riders all scrambling for formation. Adrenaline was the only currency that mattered. Everyone was too busy pulling on uniforms and trying to find their squad to pay any attention to her — or to the brief, electric touch of Xaden's hand against hers before he veered toward the leadership gathered near the dais.
She wasn't even the only one still in her dress uniform from the night's festivities. The wind had a bite to it, sharp and cold, but at least Xaden's flight jacket kept her hair tucked away and her secrets hidden. For now.
The formation was still settling when Ridoc's whine cut through the morning air. He'd been *this close* to making his move with a gorgeous brunette healer when the alarm ripped him out of his dreams. Typical. Meanwhile, Liam stood beside Violet, still buttoning his collar, his cheeks flushing pink under the moonlight when she asked if he'd had a good night. *Fine.* Sure, Liam. Very convincing.
But Violet was looking for someone else. Dain. He was with leadership, along with all the other squad leaders, Nadine explained. And then Rhiannon jogged up, yawned, did a double-take... and her eyes went wide.
*"Violet Sorrengail. Are you wearing Riorson's flight jacket?"*
Oh, no.
Liam's head snapped toward her — curse his stupidly good hearing. Violet attempted a terrible job of feigning shock while shoving her daggers into the ridiculously deep pockets of Xaden's jacket. All three of them. But Rhiannon was not fooled. Three stars on the collar. A Fourth Wing shield on the shoulder. And beneath the stars, a wingleader's emblem. The evidence was damning.
*"Fine, it's his,"* Violet whispered, just as Commandant Panchek took the dais, followed by Dain's father and the wingleaders.
And there he was. Xaden, standing all calm, cool, and collected. Violet's chest tightened. Which version of him was real? The commanding wingleader, ready to lead his wing into hell? Or the man who had been inside her less than thirty minutes ago, the one who declared he didn't deserve her but would keep her anyway?
Then Xaden's gaze locked with hers for a millisecond, and his lips formed two words that made relief and disbelief hit her in equal measure: *"Fucking War Games."*
You're kidding. They got hauled out of bed for *War Games*?
Rhiannon was grinning like a child who'd just found a hidden stash of sweets. *"I wish someone made me shatter windows."* Violet rolled her eyes. But before she could fire back a retort, Dain approached — and Rhiannon swiftly draped her hand over Violet's collarbone, hiding Xaden's insignia with a casual, distracting gesture. *"Hey, Aetos. Good morning, huh?"* Dain looked at Rhiannon like she'd been drinking too much mead. Not really, no. But they'd trained all year for this, so wake the hell up.
Violet whispered a grateful *"thanks"* to Rhiannon. She was not in the mood for Dain's lectures tonight.
Panchek's voice boomed across the courtyard: **"Riders Quadrant! Welcome to the last event of this year's War Games."**
A murmur rippled through the formation. The alarm had been a test — a real-world simulation to see how fast they could muster. The scenario: the wards were failing, an unprecedented multi-level attack along the borders, villages under siege, mass casualties among civilians and infantry, deaths of multiple riders. Colonel Aetos laid on the melodrama thick.
Fourth Wing was being sent to the southeast, with each squad choosing which outpost to reinforce. First come, first served. But wingleaders? They were assigned their headquarters.
Violet felt the hair rise on the back of her neck as Colonel Aetos's smile slipped for just a heartbeat.
**"Riorson, you'll establish your headquarters for Fourth Wing at Athebyne."**
*Athebyne.*
Beyond the wards. The place Xaden had flown his secretive mission. Violet's heart dropped into her stomach. Five days. Five whole days of pretending war, while Heaton grinned with terrifying glee and Imogen quietly echoed, *"Yeah, I think we are."*
The commandant gave them thirty minutes to change, pack, and get to the flight field.
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The barracks were a frantic bottleneck of cadets shoving through doorways. Violet worked fast: wrap her knees, support her shoulders for the long flight, pull on her own flight leathers. Ten minutes. Then detangle her hair from Xaden's handling and braid it. Five more. That left exactly five minutes to throw everything into a pack. She tossed Xaden's jacket in too, just in case anyone snooped while she was gone.
*"Wear every single dagger you own,"* Xaden's voice demanded in her mind, startling her.
*"I'm already wearing twelve."*
*"Good."*
*"I'll see you on the flight field, right?"* If he left without saying goodbye, she'd track him down and kill him herself.
*"Yes."* Curt. But enough.
The flight field was a sight to behold. Every dragon from the quadrant filled the space, standing in formation, with hundreds of mage lights floating overhead like hovering stars. It was beautiful and menacing all at once. Riders swarmed, some buzzing with excitement, others violently losing whatever they'd had to drink.
Rhiannon was vibrating with determination. They were going to win. She could almost taste that squad leader designation. Liam, though, was unusually tense as they approached their dragons.
And then Violet saw Tairn.
Her egotistical dragon had already saddled himself, with Andarna tucked under his wing. And Andarna — oh, Andarna was *strutting*. She boasted a contraption that looked like a saddle but wasn't quite. A harness, custom-made, that hooked directly onto Tairn's.
*"The wingleader had it made for me. See? It hooks to Tairn's."*
Violet couldn't help but smile. Just another reason to adore Xaden. *"Well, I love it."*
But then reality hit her: five days. *"Are you going to be all right if you're separated —"*
**"Second Squad!"** Dain's voice cut through. They had a four-hour first leg ahead. Tight formation for the first fifteen minutes as squads dispersed. And then Dain's gaze flicked over Violet's shoulder, and his jaw tightened. *"Wingleader?"*
Violet pivoted.
Xaden was striding toward them, the hilts of two swords rising above his shoulders, his presence alone making her throat close. How was she supposed to say goodbye in front of all these people? And worse — how were their dragons going to cope?
*"Don't worry, Silver One,"* Tairn interjected, his tone resolved. *"Everything is as it should be."*
*"How can I help you?"* Dain bit out.
Xaden's eyes never left Violet. **"I need you."**
Dain's voice turned sharp. *"I'm sorry?"*
*"Relax, he just wants to say goodbye,"* Violet explained quickly.
**"If you're saying goodbye, it's to him."** Xaden nodded at Dain. **"I'm constructing my headquarters squad, and you're coming with me. So are Liam and Imogen."**
Violet's jaw unhinged.
*"The fuck you are,"* Dain barked, stepping forward. *"She's a first-year, and Athebyne is beyond the wards."*
Xaden blinked, utterly unbothered. **"I don't hear you giving me the same argument about Mairi."**
Violet looked over her shoulder. Sure enough, Liam stood with his chin raised in front of Deigh, almost as if he'd expected this.
Dain argued hard: Liam was the best first-year cadet, Violet could wield lightning, Xaden didn't owe him an explanation — but Sgaeyl and Tairn couldn't be separated for longer than a few days. That was the real reason. Dain challenged it. Had they ever truly tested the bonds? Or was Xaden's whole *"if she dies, I die"* proclamation just a clever ploy to earn Violet's trust, a tool for revenge against her mother?
*"Please, do quit while you're behind, Aetos,"* Xaden seethed. **"You want the truth? She's a fuck of a lot safer with me beyond the wards than she is with you within them. We both know it."**
The look in Xaden's eyes was identical to Sgaeyl's — ruthless, willing to annihilate whatever stood in his path. And Dain was standing in his path.
*"Stop."* Violet put her hand on Xaden's arm. *"Xaden, stop. If you want me to go with you, I'll go. It's that simple."*
His gaze softened the instant it met hers. But Dain's whispered *"No fucking way"* reverberated in her bones like a lightning strike.
She pivoted, dropping her hand from Xaden's arm, but it was already too late. Dain's expression told her everything: he knew. He knew there was something between them, and he was hurt. *"Him? You and... him?"* His shoulders dropped with disappointment. *"Don't go, Violet. Please. He's going to get you killed."*
*"I know you think Xaden has ulterior motives, but I trust him. He's had every opportunity and has never hurt me."* She moved toward Dain. *"At some point, you have to let this go."*
Dain's face flickered through horror, masking, and then a painful acceptance. *"If he's what you choose... then I guess that has to be enough for me, doesn't it?"*
*"Yes."*
He swallowed hard, leaned in, and whispered, *"I'll miss you, Violet."* Then he turned and walked toward Cath.
Xaden said, **"Thank you for trusting me."**
*"Always."*
*"We have to ride."* He paused, as if he wanted to say more, but turned away instead.
And as Violet watched both important men in her life walking away in opposite directions, she knew: with the one she'd chosen to follow, her life was about to change forever.
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They flew into the morning, then into the afternoon. When Andarna couldn't keep up, she hooked onto Tairn's harness midflight and fell asleep. Xaden chose to skirt the towering Cliffs of Dralor, heading into the mountains north of Athebyne. And then — a pulling sensation in Violet's chest, and a *snap* as they crossed the barrier of the wards.
*"It feels different,"* she told Tairn.
*"Without the wards, magic is wilder here. The wingleader will have to take that into account when commanding his wing from this outpost."*
It was nearly one o'clock in the afternoon when they approached Athebyne. The dragons stopped at a lake nearest the outpost to drink, its surface smooth as glass, reflecting the jagged peaks with breathtaking accuracy before the riot landed and sent ripples shivering across the water. A thick forest ringed one edge of the lake, heavy boulders scattered like forgotten toys. And on the shore, the grass was trampled.
They were not the first riot to rest here.
The game had begun. But the real game — the one written in secrets and shadows and the weight of a world beyond the wards — was only just starting to reveal its teeth.
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### Reader's Impressions & Star Rating
What a chapter! The tension is absolutely electric from the first line to the last. We get the giddy thrill of Violet and Xaden's secret almost-caught, the gut-punch of War Games being announced, and then the full emotional turmoil of Dain's heartbreak and Xaden's command. The way Xaden claims Violet in front of everyone, the way Dain realizes the truth and lets her go — it's devastating and beautiful and utterly gripping. And that final image of the trampled grass at the lake? Chills. Something is coming, and it's not just a training exercise. The pacing, the dialogue, the raw emotional stakes — this is *Fourth Wing* at its absolute finest.
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ Rating: 4.9 / 5 Stars
### Next Chapter Prediction
Athebyne is not just a random outpost — it's beyond the wards, it's where Xaden's secret mission took him, and it was deliberately assigned by Colonel Aetos with that suspicious, slipping smile. I predict the "War Games" are about to become terrifyingly real. The trampled grass at the lake suggests gryphons — or something worse — have already been here. Violet and Xaden are going to discover that this exercise is a cover for an actual threat, and Liam's unusual tension suggests he knows more than he's telling. Get ready for a brutal wake-up call: the war is not a game, and Athebyne is ground zero.
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