Black Sapphire | Xaden Riorson | S/H

XXX

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     His arm makes my back burn. I throw my head back and arch like it'll help the pain, my hand gripping the edge of my winter cloak and making the fur scrape against the back of my neck.
     "That relic's eating you up, huh?" Xaden questions. There's almost a small laugh under his tone.
     "Tairn's is scolding hot and Fior's is ice cold. They're right on top of each other and it hurts so fucking bad." He nods solemnly and I'm not sure if he actually cared enough to listen or if he was doing it out of habit.
     His arm pulls away, leaving only the warm stripes where his fingers trace against my skin. I follow him toward the college. He never walks fast when I'm around, but I try not to pay attention to it.
     I bounce a few steps forward and pull the door open. He walks in easily like it was never there and I trail after him, the door following me until it clicks closed and I finally let my hand slip away from the handle.
     "Do you open the door for everyone? Or just the people you want in your favor?" I cock a brow as he pauses until I catch up, then effortlessly matches my pace.
     "Just your family," I murmur. "And I guess King Tauri's, if I ever met him."
     "I suppose your father taught you that, too."
     "Yup. Old habits die hard, I guess."

     We turn into the staircase leading up to the dorms. He waves me forward first and then follows me to my landing where he motions me out. I get to my room, unlocking the door with a twist of my hand.
     "Get into your flight leathers." He crosses his arms and leans his back against the doorframe so he's angled away from the open room.
     "Isn't it a little cold for flying?" I question. "The dragons don't like being out in this weather."
     "He'll manage." I glance back for a moment, then shuffle around my wardrobe to grab them. I shut the door and lock it to change quickly, finishing off by pulling the puffy black cloak back on as I open it again.
     "Do you actually need something or did you just want Dain off your dick?" He looks over his shoulder to raise a brow and then kicks off the wall to a stand. "He's quite the dick-rider so I wouldn't blame you."
     "If you're asking me if it's more important than Carr's class and the Squad Battle, yes, it is." I'm sure he can see the questioning look on my face as I trail beside him back down the stairs.
     "But don't I need to practice? At least somewhat?" I ask.
     "Winning the Squad Battle is nothing in the scheme of keeping you alive." His hand finds the arch in my back again as he guides me into the sloping tunnel that leads across the valley. "You'll be on the front lines before the rest of them come next year."
     "Is that what second-year is here?"
     "It's inevitable, but not usually. Unfortunately, there's no telling how long Sgaeyl and Tairn will tolerate being separated. I would guess we'll both be making sacrifices to keep them happy."
     We emerge at the end of it. I blink a few times at the blinding snowfall in the rising sun.

     The snow is nearly stained orange from the light peeking from over the mountaintops. I glance over at Xaden and I can tell he's not pleased with having to be here much after graduation. I'm sure after forced conscription and 3 years stuck in this hell hole, he doesn't want to be here anymore. At least he'll be a lieutenant with some autonomy.
     I glance over at the squad that is indeed working on scaling the Gauntlet. I don't know who managed to get a dragon over here, but there's no ice on its surface, just a scorch mark on the tarmac at the very top.
     "You care more about me than having one of your squads win the Squad Battle?" I mock with a small laugh. I settle my hand on my chest playfully. Xaden glances over and down, concern flickering in his eyes for just a moment as he stares at my relaxing fingers. Then a smirk breaks his face a moment later and he looks forward again.
     "When I was a first-year, I thought winning was the pinnacle, too." I cock my head but he doesn't notice. When did I give the impression I cared about winning? "But once you're in your third year, and you see the things that we do..." His jaw flexes for a moment, stomping out that smirk that looks way too good on him. "The games are a lot more lethal."
     "Believe, me, I'm aware," I huff. "Unlike the rest of you, I was neither raised in nor indoctrinated to like war or the ruin it causes. My mom acknowledged that we were victims, not martyrs."