Wild and Out of Control

|chapter thirty-nine|

                                                                                          |danica|

There's sore and then there's the inability to walk or even move.

     I curse Xaden's name as I roll off my bed, only to hit the floor with an oomph. Fresh pain shoots up my body, making me gasp as I try to make the muscles in my legs work. I grab my pillow and throw it to the empty side of my bed where Xaden slept last night. I have no idea when he left; he just did.

     That asshole.

     I know he couldn't risk another night, but he could've at least woken me up to say goodbye. Taking deep breaths, I pull myself up and glance at the clock. 6 o'clock. Later than my usual wake-up time, but oh well.

     "Ooh, ooh, ooh." My body stiffens as I try to breathe past the soreness and pain of last night. "Oh, shit." My legs give out and I fall on my bed. I groan into my hands at the utter humiliation this is.

     "Yes, utterly humiliating," Azare's voice comes through my head, "to have a rider suffer from the throes of human pleasure."

     "Shut up. It's not like you and Sgaeyl don't have any fun time. I remember certain nights you forgot to put your shields up even when I had mine." I pause, thinking of every time Azare and Sgaeyl were together intimately and every time I had access to it. "You do that on purpose, don't you?"

     "Oh, please. Like I would do that on purpose." He chuckles. "But, I would never leave Sgaeyl alone afterward." There's a pointedness in his tone, an accusation to his least favorite spare human.

     "There's that separation anxiety we talk about." He growls, but it ends in a laugh. "But he didn't immediately leave right afterward. He stayed until I fell asleep. He couldn't risk being seen with me since I'm a cadet and he's my wingleader."

     Saying it out loud leaves me feeling a little nauseous. Sure, I was a rebellious child, but I never broke the rules like this. It wasn't a rule, per se, more a set of guidelines, but my father would hear about it, and find a way to punish both me and Xaden.

     "I would get ready. I hear today is your Squad Battles, and we wouldn't want to miss it," Azare informs me. "The wingleader is waiting for his squads to get in formation."

     I roll my eyes but attempt to get ready, ignoring the tingles shooting up my body each time I move my legs. I step in front of the mirror to see what havoc Xaden did to my skin last night and stifle a groan with my hand when I take in the bruises on my hips and waist and the red marks on my neck and breasts. I turn to the side to get a better look at the bruises, and sure enough, they're distinctly hand-shaped. I run my hands over the marks on my neck.

     "You asshole. How am I supposed to hide the marks you left on my neck?" I shoot down the bond as I pull a set of my uniform out of my armoire.

     There's silence on his end of the bond, and I think for a moment he's ignoring me, then I hear a low, dark chuckle. "My apologies. How else was I supposed to mark you as mine?"

     I scoff. "I thought we were supposed to hide our relationship? And I'm not yours."

     "I can't mark you as mine, yet, but I can mark you as taken. And you can fight it all you like, but you are mine." There's a finality to his tone, like he's already decided to keep me without going back, which confuses the hell out of me.

     Didn't he want me dead a few months ago?

     "Only if you're mine."

     "Oh, darling, I've been yours longer than you think."