Every year, hundreds die within the walls of Basgiath War College. It's no surprise that many are those who choose the Riders Quadrant. Dragons do not tolerate much, but neither do the ruthless gryphons on the outside of the wards.
At least...
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・・・ ・・・ ・・・
One might think Xaden putting on his shirt would make any of my scorching skin cool down at all, even a bit, but it doesn't. I don't think even the caldera in the dead of winter could cool me down right now. Fire lights along my skin everywhere his eyes trace, which is so much and definitely not enough. In this moment, I can't remember why I let myself deny any part of him.
"Good job, Riorson," Sahalie says from the side, suddenly reminding me that she's here, even though plenty of other riders have filtered out through the doors behind me. "I'll tell the major to take you off the patrol roster for fourty-eight hours." "Twenty-four," he offers, but his eyes don't leave me. I hope they never do. "I only need twenty-four hours. Jarrett can have the rest." Because I'll be gone. She shrugs. "Suit yourself." She slaps a hand on Jarrett's shoulder he walks past us and follows him out. And suddenly, we're alone. So, so alone.
"You're early," Xaden says. His eyes skim down my body for only a moment before they snap back up like he's caught himself doing something he shouldn't. "Is that a complaint?" I question, balling my hands into fists at my sides. My chest heaves and every breath burns against what feels like a slash in the back of my throat. "No." He shakes his head just slightly. "I just wasn't expecting you until noon." "Tairn flies pretty fast when he's not waiting around for the rest of a riot."
Every part of my body trembles with fear and agony and lust, which is a dizzying combination that's making my peripheral go blurry. I can't identify why him fighting for a weekend pass is making my heart flutter so much. My hand grabs onto the glaive's strap across my chest, which doesn't help at all, remembering he got not only the weapon but it's holder for me, and then got my protection charms welded onto it, too.
"(N/N)." His voice lowers to that hummed tone he only uses when we're alone, and often, naked. My gaze wonders to his mouth, then to his jaw. There's no protrusions thankfully. "Hm?" I hum after a moment as I jerk my eyes back up to his. There's a smirk on his face, because of course there is. "Tell me what's spinning in that beautiful head of yours." He moves closer, almost two full steps, completely invading my space and my mind in an instant.
I want his hands on me, pressing into my heart until it calms. I'll trick him into never letting me go, because it will never slow when he's around. But more than that, the (E/C) of my mother's eyes fill my mind. I rush a step forward. His smirk falls when my breaths pick up again, despite me taking his face in my hands. I brush my fingers along his jaw, finding where his eyes twitch, then run them along the back of his neck as I look away toward the wall. Thankfully, there's no abnormality, and every bone is where I've memorized it being.
He grabs my wrists with the gentle touch I think he only uses on me, pulling my hands away from his face but keeping them hovering nearby. I need to say something. "Does it hurt?" I look down at his lips, not even specifically meaning to address the cut there, but that works. "I've had worse. It's what I get for blocking with my shields to concentrate on the fight. Otherwise, I would have felt you."
