Xylia

Fourteen

Trust.

To me that word meant to lack.

The act of trust consisted of the lack of hesitation when taking action. The absence of fear when a person makes a promise. The nonexistent need to worry about hidden motives or back stabbing.

I trusted Everest.

Staring at him through the barred poles of the cell, the cold hand of fear gripped my heart, but the searing heat of anger fueled my simmering glare.

I spare him another scowl before Drea, Volkan, and I were hauled down to another area of captivity our shackles clinking together in a resounding discord. A wave of emotion rushed over me and I couldn't suppress my shout of anger.

"We trusted you!"

Everest looked away.

___

(Earlier that day)

Everest charged at me, a battle cry tore from his lips. Narrowly dodging an onslaught of punches I jabbed my knee up, causing him to trip from his momentum. He tumbled to the ground in a mass of limbs, barely catching himself before attempting to rise up.

But I had already moved behind him, planting my foot firmly on his back forcing him back to the ground. I smirked victoriously.

A hand snaked around my ankle, yanking me to the earth. I was about to roll onto my feet, but two arms caged me in. Golden irises swirled in delight as Everest beamed down at me.

"Say it." He goaded, breath tickling my nose. Sweat coated our skin providing a salty tang to the air while tainting the distance between us with an electrifying heat.

"I'll sneeze on you again." I teased. Mockingly twitching my nose. That comment only fueled him more as he leaned into my sprawled out body.

"Come on Xylia," his hot breath fanned my neck, sparks erupted providing flurry tingles that were ever so distracting.

Over the course of days that I had gotten to know Everest, there was this tension that always seemed to buzz between us. Whether it be in our prolonged gazes, witty banter, or physical contact as demonstrated by yours truly. I believe it stems from this so called "connection" that has yet to be addressed, considering the much bigger and beastly problem at hand. Needless to say, the beginnings of this attraction is equally infuriating as it is enjoyable. Regaining my wits, I muttered out a half hearted.

"Everest is the most awesome fighter ever." He quirked an eyebrow up, flicking his wrist for me to continue. I rolled my eyes but finished. "And he is better than me in every way possible. Even when he's a sore winner." The last part was muttered under my breath, but was didn't go unnoticed by him.

"Arms getting weak," Everest whined, shaking the limbs for effect. He took that moment to collapse on me, forcing a heavy breath from my lungs. I pried his sticky body off of me, poking my tongue out in defiance before trotting away to Volkan and Drea who were preparing today's hunt. Volkan skinned the squirrel distractedly, brows furrowing in thought.

"Have a good training session?" He asked tightly, bringing his knife down with much more force than necessary.

"I was, until my winning streak was foiled by you know who," the spoil sport in question, giddily strode forward, slinging an arm around my neck.

"As if you were much competition," Drea quipped.

For the past two days, Everest decided to mentor me on sparring; however, it seemed like I was the one teaching him how to fight, seeing as I held a 19-0 now 19-1 winning streak. The compromise allowed me to train without resorting to my spirit based strength as well as enable Everest to brush up on his fighting skills, or lack thereof.