After intense and rigorous training all day, you walk back to Xadens room. Limping up the stairs, you hiss in pain and put your hand over a wound on your side. You lean against the wall, wadding down the hall. You don’t even knock before you open the door and collapse on the bed.

Sitting at his desk doing paperwork, he turns when the door opens. His eyes narrow when he looks over you. The way you’re limping, soaking in sweat and blood, breathing heavily. He stands up and kneels next to the bed.

“Who beat your ass?” Xaden smirks, moving your hand to look at the gash on your side. You growl, telling him to shut up. Then Caden stands up and walks across the room to his desk. He knows you don’t like the healers, so he usually fixes you up right here. He grabs a small bag with medical supplies and sits on the bed next to where you’re laying.

“Shirt off.”

You grumble, not wanting to move. Xaden sees your reluctance and does it for you, helping you sit off then stripping it off your body. Now that the shirt is gone, the wound looks worse. Xaden grabs a wet rag and cleans up the blood. Then he grabs a needle and thread. Without warning, Xaden starts stitching up the gash. You whimper, your body unconsciously trying to push him away.

“Stop that.”