# CHAPTER 7: The Secret Gathering of Shadows
Hello everyone, it's me again! How are you all doing? Today I will continue to walk with you and review CHAPTER 7 of "Fourth Wing" — a chapter that takes us deep into the moonlit woods, where secrets are whispered beneath ancient oaks, and where Violet Sorrengail finds herself perched like a frightened cat among wolves. Trust me, this one will leave your heart pounding. Let's dive in.
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The challenges were only a week away, and Violet Sorrengail knew she needed every advantage she could get. So, under the cover of night, with her injured arm still bound in a sling, she slipped out of the citadel and made her way to the familiar riverbank — to the same gnarled oak she'd been using as a landmark since she was a child. The moonlight filtered through the canopy as she counted the trees, found the right one, and began to climb, ignoring the twinge in her shoulder. Her goal: fonilee berries, their unripe purple globes glistening in the dark. Mixed with mushrooms and other herbs she'd gathered earlier, they would become the poison kit she needed to survive the coming trials.
But the night had other plans.
Just as she was descending, her fingers aching and her cloak snagging on every branch, she spotted movement below. Two figures in black cloaks stopped beneath her tree. The smaller one removed her hood, revealing a shock of pink hair and a half-shaved head — Imogen, the ruthless woman who had nearly torn Violet's arm from its socket days ago. And the second figure? Xaden Riorson himself.
Violet froze. Fifteen feet separated her from the most dangerous man in the quadrant. Her heart slammed against her ribs as she clung to the branches, desperately shifting into the shadows so the moonlight wouldn't betray her. She couldn't hear their words over the rushing river, but she didn't need to. More riders arrived — nearly two dozen marked ones, all wearing black cloaks, all bearing the rebellion relics on their skin. And here was the thing: marked ones weren't allowed to gather in groups larger than three. This was a capital offense. A secret meeting. A conspiracy.
Violet had a choice. She could stay hidden, stay safe, and pretend she saw nothing. Or she could get closer and uncover what they were really plotting. With her stomach churning, she chose the latter, inching down branch by branch, testing each limb with agonizing slowness, praying the river's noise would muffle her movement.
Soon, their words became clear. It wasn't a coup. It wasn't a rebellion. It was something far more unexpected: a support group. Xaden was rallying the marked first-years, mentoring them, making sure they survived the brutal trials of Basgiath. A tall third-year named Garrick offered to train the weak. A cousin of Xaden's called Bodhi teased the harshness of his words. And when one terrified first-year broke down, confessing he couldn't handle the death and the fighting and wanted to go home, Xaden's response was brutally honest: "You're not going to make it. Best accept it now."
Violet couldn't help but feel a reluctant flicker of admiration. Here was Xaden Riorson, the man she'd been taught to fear and despise, taking responsibility for his people. He spoke of war not as a romantic song but as the cold, uncaring reality it truly was. He was ruthless. He was harsh. But he was *there* for them.
Then the conversation shifted, and her blood turned to ice.
"When do we get to kill Violet Sorrengail?" one of the first-years asked.
A murmur of assent rippled through the group, and Violet's veins flooded with terror. Imogen's sweet, venomous voice followed: "Yeah, Xaden. When do we get to have our revenge?"
Xaden turned, the scar across his face catching the moonlight. "The youngest Sorrengail is *mine*. I'll handle her when the time is right."
Handle her. Violet's fear quickly morphed into indignant fury. She wasn't some problem to be handled. And she was not going to let them have the last word. She watched as Garrick actually defended her, arguing that punishing children for their parents' sins was the Navarrian way, not the Tyrrish way. And Xaden added something that stunned her: "Don't forget her brother was Brennan Sorrengail. She has just as much reason to hate us as we do her."
Then the meeting dispersed, in groups of three, just as Xaden ordered.
Violet counted to five hundred, forcing her racing heart to calm, before she finally dropped from the tree onto the grass. She'd made it. She'd survived. He didn't even know she was there.
But then a shadow lunged. An elbow locked around her throat, a dagger pressed against her skin, and Xaden's rough voice whispered, "Scream and you die."
*Fucking Sorrengail.*
Violet's indignation flared even as fear gripped her. "How did you know? Let me guess, you could smell my perfume?"
He scoffed. "I command shadows, but sure, it was your perfume that gave you away."
Shadow wielder. Of course. The rarest, most feared signet in the quadrant. Violet spun, daggers in hand, ready to fight to the death. But Xaden remained infuriatingly calm, mocking her stance, her trembling blades. She threw two daggers past his head, pinning them into the tree behind him. "You missed," he said. "Did I?" she challenged, telling him to back up and test that theory. When his back hit the tree, the hilts brushed his ears. And for a fleeting moment, something like curiosity—and perhaps respect—flickered in his eyes.
Then he proved just how powerless she truly was. Shadows slithered up the trunk like living fingers, plucking the daggers from the bark and delivering them into his waiting hands. He walked toward her, shadows curling at his feet, beautiful and lethal and terrifying all at once. Violet hated how drawn she was to him, hated how her heart stuttered as he reached under her cloak and sheathed her blades back in their places, his gaze lingering on her braid for a heartbeat.
"You should show that little trick to Jack Barlowe," he said. "The neck-snapping first-year who's publicly vowed to slaughter you."
This was bizarre. It had to be some kind of game. "Because the honor of my murder belongs to you?" she challenged.
Instead of killing her, he asked if she planned to tell anyone about his little club. She answered truthfully: "No." She explained that he was helping them, and that it wouldn't be fair to punish him or the others for something so harmless. They might have broken a law, but they didn't deserve to die for asking for tutoring.
Xaden studied her like she was a puzzle he couldn't solve. "Interesting. We'll see if you keep your word. And if you do... it looks like I owe you a favor."
Then he simply turned and walked away, disappearing into the darkness.
"You're not going to handle me?" Violet called after him.
"Not tonight!" he shouted back. "It's no fun if you expect it. Now get back to bed before your wingleader realizes you're out after curfew."
"What?" she gawked. "*You're* my wingleader!"
But he was already gone, leaving her alone in the moonlit grass with her satchel full of poison berries and a slow, wondering smile spreading across her face. He hadn't even asked what she was carrying. A fool with fonilee berries, perhaps. But a survivor.
The next morning, Violet dressed for the day, slipping into her dragon-scale vest. Her squadmate Rhiannon was still absent from her bed—at least one of them was getting some much-needed relief—and the hall was quiet, save for rows of empty bunks, reminders of those who hadn't made it to August. She braided her hair, thought of Dain, and pushed through the door.
There he was. Dain's eyes lit up as he pushed off the wall. "Morning."
And just like that, the world felt a little more stable—even as the shadow of Xaden Riorson lingered in the corners of her mind, waiting to strike.
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## Reader's Impressions & Star Rating
Oh my God, this chapter was an absolute rollercoaster! The tension of Violet hiding in that tree, listening to her enemies debate her fate, had me holding my breath. And the moment Xaden caught her—I literally gasped. The chemistry between those two is electric, even when they're both ready to kill each other. I love how Violet's sharp wit never falters, and how Xaden's cold facade cracks just a little. This chapter deepens the world, the politics, and the stakes in such a gripping way. I'm completely hooked.
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Rating: 4.9 / 5 Stars
## Next Chapter Prediction
Now that Xaden owes Violet a favor—and knows she can be trusted—I predict he'll start watching her more closely. Maybe he'll even toss her a lifeline when the challenges begin, or perhaps his shadow powers will protect her from Jack Barlowe's murderous intentions. But with Dain lingering in the background, blind to Violet's secrets, a collision is coming. I think the next chapter will bring the first real test of the Riders Quadrant's brutal trials, and Xaden will risk everything to keep Violet alive—only to be called a traitor for it.
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