The landing was heavy, the ground still vibrating with the impact of the dragons' wings. You felt your leg throbbing, but kept your expression firm, even when it almost limbed when you went down.

"You're bleeding," - Xaden noticed, the grave tone, the black eyes fixed on you.

"I'm fine." - you replied, trying to disguise.

He didn't believe it even for a second. With his hand firmly on your waist, he pulled you without giving space for protest.

"I'm not going to argue. Dormitory. Now."

You grumbled, but the way he guided you left no room for resistance. In his room, the silence was heavy, broken only by the accelerated breathing of both. Xaden closed the door and pointed to the bed.

"Sit down."

You arched your eyebrow. "Mandant."

He just crossed his arms, the shadow of a smile on the corner of his mouth. "And why are you still standing?"

With a resigned sigh, you sat down. The blood flowed down the thigh, staining the tissue. He approached with the first aid kit, the gloomy expression softened by concern.

"I need to see the wound."

You hesitated for a second before unbuttoning your pants, carefully pulling them down. The air in the room seemed to get heavier the moment the piece fell to the ankles. Xaden's gaze stood on your leg - and, for a moment, you swore he held his breath.

"Can you concentrate, Riorson?" - you provoked, the light tone to disguise your own nervousness.

His eyes returned to yours, burning with intensity.

"Are you testing me?" - the deep voice came out almost like a warning.

He knelt in front of him, his fingers firm but gentle when they touched his thigh, wiping the cut with soaked gauze. His touch was careful, almost reverent, but the tension was palpable - the locked jaw, the evident self-control in every gesture.

"You should have warned me that I was hurt," - he murmured, focused on the cut.

"You would have stopped the whole battle for me."

"Exactly." - he raised his eyes, and the weight of that look made his heart race.

As he finished bandaged his thigh, his hands took a little longer than necessary. His fingers slid down his skin in an involuntary gesture, and he closed his eyes for a second, as if struggling with himself.

"You have no idea how much I'm holding myself now," - he admitted, his voice low, loaded with desire and frustration.