"Why do the men always have the honor to fight in war when women have the power to bring the army down to there knees"
A ruthless man is nothing but a man
A ruthless woman is everything a man wishes he could be.
What happens if the rebellion didn't...
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Inside the infirmary, the scent of herbs and antiseptic filled the air. It was strangely calming, but I couldn't shake the tension in my chest. The last thing I wanted was to be the center of attention, but here I was, sitting on the medical bed as Xaden rummaged through the supplies.
"You know," I said, trying to break the silence, "I'm perfectly capable of patching myself up."
He glanced back at me, his lips curling into that half-smile I knew too well. The smile that always made my stomach tighten in a way I wasn't ready to understand. "I've seen you take on a hundred opponents and walk away unscathed. But this... this isn't just a fight, Nora. You're my responsibility right now."
I swallowed hard at the way he said it, but kept my focus on something else. The floor. The ceiling. Anything but him. "It's just a cut," I muttered, my voice quieter this time. "It'll heal. Like everything else."
He walked over to me then, holding a clean cloth and some supplies. His eyes softened for a fraction of a second, just enough for me to notice, but I wasn't sure if he realized how easily I caught it.
"I know," he said gently, his voice lowering. "But you don't have to do everything alone, Nora. Not this."
I turned my head away, as though I could hide the way his words struck at something deep inside me. I don't need help. I'm fine. But the lie tasted bitter, and I couldn't quite bring myself to say it.
"Just... just fix me up," I said, a little harsher than I meant, but my eyes were on his now, and I couldn't look away. "I don't need the whole speech."
He said nothing at first. Just moved quietly beside me, prepping the cloth and the salve. Then, after a beat, he spoke again, his voice quieter, like he was choosing his words carefully.
"You're a damn good fighter," Xaden murmured as he gently dabbed the cloth against the gash, cleaning away the blood. "But there's a limit to how much you can handle alone. You're not invincible, Nora."
I tried to hold his gaze, but I found my eyes betraying me, flickering toward the floor. "I never claimed to be invincible."
"You don't have to claim it," he said, voice tight. "You just act like it."
His touch was steady as he worked, but I could tell that he wasn't just tending to my injury. He was watching me, trying to read between the lines. I didn't need to look at him to know he saw something more in me than just the fighter, the protector, the one who always had to carry the weight of everyone else's burdens.
But it wasn't that simple, was it?
I couldn't—wouldn't—rely on anyone else. Not now. Not when I had so much more to protect.
"So, what's your plan after this?" he asked, his voice cutting through the silence. "You going to keep hiding from it? From everything you really are?"
I stiffened at the question, the words feeling like they pierced through me, raw and unforgiving. To me it sounded like he new this whole time the very thing I was keeping.My fingers curled into the edge of the bed. I had told him nothing Nothing about what I had been born to do.
