You didn't give a shit that you weren't allowed away from Basgiath without express permission. Not after finding out Xadens military post had been brutally attacked at Samara. There were rumours going around about the number of deaths and the only thing you could think was that one of them might've been him.

This was the price you paid for falling in love with him of all people.

You were out of battle brief and rushing down to the flight field before you even knew what you were doing. All you knew was there was one severely injured rider, and it could’ve easily been Xaden.

Could’ve. That was enough.

Tairns wingbeats filled the air as he landed on the large field, and Bodhi, practically tasked with keeping an eye on you considering he was Xadens cousin; followed you out. “Wait, Lark! It’s going to be cold out there. Take this,” he quickly said, slipping his flight jacket from his shoulders and handing it to you.

You muttered a quick thank you before mounting Tairn who launched from the ground the minute you were situation and in the saddle.

The flight to Samara was 12 hours. You made it in 9.

As you landed, the destruction was obvious. The fortress walls crumbled in a few places, and healers rushed around helping the injured infantry. No sign of Xaden. You followed the pull of the bond down some stairs, emerging in the fighting arena beneath the fortress.

Were you gonna find him bleeding and dying? Already dead?

No. Instead you found him sparring with Garrick. Suddenly you were pissed. He didn’t even bother to let you know he was okay, and you just left Basgiath with no unapproved leave. A punishable offence.

You stormed onto the sand pit, fury blaring in your eyes. His eyes widened as they landed on you. “Lark? The fuck are you doing here?” Garrick quickly dipped, leaving you two alone.

You stormed up to him, pushing against his chest. He didn’t budge, but you didn’t care. “You asshole! I thought you were fucking dea-”

Xaden's eyes narrowed and he cut you off. "Whose flight jacket it that?"