7. Xavier

Chapter 7

Xavier

T hese two were going to be the death of me.

I'd thought this would be a simple retrieval mission for another doomed woman. Instead, it had been dragon bolts, a near-death Luxa, and Girovian mages out for our blood.

And we weren't even to the border yet.

Kian ripped another arrow from my shoulder, and I bit off a curse, doing my best not to take my claws to my best friend.

Yes, each one would need to come out before I could heal properly, but his fear—a scent I'd rarely tasted before—was making his ministrations far more punishing than they needed to be. Still, that was better than Vale's. Her slow, methodical removals were a prolonged agony made worse by her guilt.

She hadn't wanted any of this, and yet she'd still saved my life. She'd used her brilliant magic in my defense, and if I wasn't already half driven mad by the perfume of her skin, I would have fallen for her then. She had been in my arms all day, her poisoned skin completely worth the sting because it meant I could give her my warmth—it meant I was right there as she rested against me, when she slept in my arms.

Still, she would never be ours, but I was having trouble following my own advice. I'd told Kian that fact myself, but the truth of it was almost too bitter of a pill to swallow.

"Gods, witch," Kian growled, his deadly rumble something he usually reserved for the maesters in charge of the libraries and potion hoards. "It's bad enough you nearly got him killed. The least you could do is not draw out the pain."

Kian's harsh reprimand was punctuated by his reaching for an arrow, grasping it tight, and ripping it out with a force that stole my breath. Maybe Vale's technique was better. At least she wasn't trying to make it hurt.

Vale shoved up from her knees, her small frame towering over us as her teeth ground together—a fearsome sight only hindered by the tears swimming in her eyes. Kian was right to be drawn to her. The second I put my hands on her creamy skin, I'd been lost, the war of duty and service with my desires raging before I could get control of it.

She was so tiny, so fragile, so… doomed that it made me consider mutiny just this once.

No Luxa had survived thus far, and I didn't want Vale to be another one of the dead. In two hundred years, there had been none to break the curse on our king, none strong enough to free him—and by extension, us—from the shackles likely one of her ancestors placed on the Continent. We were sending her to her slaughter. If she managed to survive the first trial—though over three-quarters did not—she would have to endure the rest.

She would have to be strong enough for our king—strong enough to break the curse.

And that was a feat no one had accomplished in two centuries.

"I didn't ask him to save me," she growled, her voice solid and deadly just as she had been in battle. "I didn't ask to be here. And I swear to Orrus if you don't stop criticizing every little thing I do like I've got a choice in the matter, I will show you exactly what I did to get tied to that fucking stake in the first place."

A faint glow flickered from the small cut on her wrist. It seemed rage was the key to making her power shine—that was my hypothesis at any rate. She'd been enraged when I'd taken the arrows for her, managing to shove my weight off of her to face down a conclave of mages herself.

"That's enough, you two," I groaned, Kian's abrupt removal of another arrow stealing my breath for a moment. "I'd rather not find out the hard way that those mages weren't alone."

At my hiss, she knelt at my side again and put a shushing hand on the back of my neck, her small fingers tickling the fine hairs at my nape. Even bleeding and in pain, her touch sent a thrill of awareness over every inch of my skin. She'd been between my legs all damn day, her lithe body rubbing against mine as she shared my saddle. Every rock and sway of the horse had my cock threatening to bust from my leathers, her scent driving me to madness.

I wanted that touch everywhere.

"There are only a few left," she murmured, her touch just as maddening as her scent. "Do you have clean cloth and supplies in your bag? I can help you bandage the ones that are still bleeding."

Guilt snuffed out my lust like water to a flame. My gaze flitted to the felled horse, its big body still as death. Kian's horse was nowhere to be found. I didn't want her to dig through the animal's corpse to find my pack. "They'll heal. I'm fine."

Kian let out a low rumble, his dragon close to the surface. "They're not. If bandaging your wounds is all she's capable of doing, then?—"

"Stop," I commanded, cutting him off before he said something stupid. "Treat her with respect, old friend, or I won't be the only one bleeding."

I knew what he was doing. He was pushing her away because he couldn't have her. Because like me, he would watch her die just like all the others—this beautiful light of a woman snuffed out once again. It made me wonder if we were the monsters in this scenario. We had sacrificed life after life to free our king in an effort to save every other magical being on the Continent. They had all been willing, of course, the honor of serving the king, of becoming an all-powerful Luxa a draw for so many, but…

Maybe the guild was right.

Maybe we shouldn't have magic.

Maybe the witch had been right to limit all of our power.

Maybe we didn't deserve it.

Kian's amber gaze met mine, and I sensed a faint thread of shame. Unless Vale would win the trials out of spite, I couldn't see how treating her like she was the villain would do anything other than make him feel more guilt after she was gone.

Vale turned, shuffling through the snow on her bare feet to the horse, and that made me wince more than the arrow Kian ripped from my back while I was distracted. I should have thought to bring her shoes. I should have thought to bring her clothes.

She deserved better.

"You have to stop antagonizing her. She hasn't done anything wrong," I muttered, breathing through the pain.

"I'm not antagonizing her. I am giving encouragement in an unorthodox manner."

No, he was lying to himself to save his own heart.

"You know this pressure barely scratches the surface of the first trial, and she can barely handle this. A conclave of mages is hardly worse than what she'll face. She fears dragons, Xavier. If she is going to survive, she cannot fear anything."

And while I knew the truth of his words, they still stung.

"Why do you think I've been drawing this out by taking the long way around the mountain? She needs time to gather her strength, or else she won't make it. I know I put us in danger staying in Girovia too long, but it's for her own good. And if she survives the first trial out of spite, then I'm going to count it as a win."

I shot a scathing glare at my best friend. "Just because spite is the motivation for everything that you do, doesn't mean that it will be hers."

Kian's lips curled into a knowing smirk. "She survived Arden and that mountain by sheer force of will. She roared at me like she was a dragon herself. She can do it. I know she can. I just need to push her a little more and she'll… she'll…"

"Break," I murmured, wincing as I watched her yank the pack from the ruined saddle. "She'll break. You didn't see her face when you put that coat on her. No one has cared for her. Maybe not ever. There is only so much someone can take before there is nothing more left to give. And…" I paused, understanding I didn't want to face forming like lead in my gut.

"I don't think she understands what being a Luxa is. I—I don't think she knows the risk." Meeting his gaze once more, I knew he'd already come to the same conclusion. "We have to tell her. It wouldn't be right. And as soon as we do, she'll try to escape the first chance she gets."

Kian rolled his eyes, feigning indifference when I knew he was anything but. "Then why don't you pull on the sister heartstring a little more? I'm sure that'll get her motivated. Dangle a carrot in front of her face for all I fucking care. I can't do this anymore. I can't watch another one die."

But I knew what he was really saying. He couldn't watch her die. I couldn't understand why she was so important to both of us so quickly. It didn't make any sense. We had brought so many Luxa to the king over the last two centuries.

Why was this one different?

Before I had an answer, Vale returned with my pack, rummaging through it to pilfer what she could for first aid supplies. "There's not much here, but I can make do with this," she said, retrieving a strip of clean cloth. "If I can find some Nightwinter berries, I can make a healing salve."

Kian latched onto the last arrow and yanked, my shoulders easing a bit now that they were free of the blasted things.

"Don't trouble yourself," I murmured. "I should heal soon enough."

Vale's expression drew into a worried frown as she bit her full bottom lip. She nodded, but I could tell she didn't mean it. She'd needle me until she could tend to my wounds, I could sense it.

"You'll see. Bandage them and then we can be on our way. In a few hours, I'll be just fine."

But even I knew that was a lie—a kind one, but a lie, nonetheless. I wasn't healing like I should, and I had a feeling it had as much to do with the woman next to me as the sheer number of hits I'd taken. If pressed, I could shift and heal fully, but something about Kian's words struck true in my chest.

She needed time to regain her strength. Yes, she'd used her power beautifully, but she wasn't strong enough yet.

Vale went to work, packing and binding my wounds, while Kian left us to retrieve his own horse. Being away from Vale, he could likely use his abilities with less interference. By the time she was done, Kian had returned with a single horse, his rueful expression letting me know I'd be walking for a while.

"Come on, Vale. Up you go," Kian said, his hands outstretched to our little Luxa.

And when had I started to think she was mine? For my own sake as well as hers, I had to stop before it was too late.

Naturally, she frowned, backing away from his touch like he was the devil himself. "I'm not the injured one. Xavier rides. I can walk."

"Barefoot?" he growled, his glowing amber gaze on her shoeless feet. He may be pretending to be an asshole, but I had a feeling this would be where he drew the line.

I stood, testing the weight of my legs. It would be a challenge for a while, but I could easily walk a hundred miles if it meant she didn't.

"Do you think this is the first time I've been without shoes, dragon?" Her smile was bitter as she shook her head.

That smile said she'd been without food, without comfort, without safety for longer than she could remember. Of course she wouldn't balk at walking in the snow. She hadn't made so much as a complaint about it so far. She'd done battle in that snow, killed men in that snow. What was a few more miles to her?

Just the thought of it made me see red, my scales rippling across my flesh. But if I let them argue, we'd be here all night. The last thing we needed was more mages stumbling upon us while I was in this state.

"The only way I'll ride this horse is if you're riding with me, little Luxa. And I'm more stubborn than Kian, so…" I gave her a little shrug, which I instantly regretted.

Gaze narrowed, teeth gritted, she allowed Kian to place her on the horse. I quickly followed her onto the saddle, surrounding her like I'd done all day. Something in my chest eased at being so close to her again. Urging the animal into a gentle trot, Kian easily kept pace beside us, his breath steady, not breaking a sweat. I knew from experience he could run three times as fast without difficulty and still run headlong into battle without blinking an eye.

"There's an inn just beyond the border wards," he supplied, his path cutting off the excess he'd padded the route with and shaved hours off our trip. "We can stay there for a night before we continue on."

He'd been almost helpful, but naturally he had to ruin it. Because Kian wouldn't be Kian without sticking his foot in his mouth.

"Maybe then you can wash the poison and stench off of you. Honestly, I don't know how you can stand being so close to her."

Vale quietly gasped at the insult, her shoulders curling in on themselves. I'd seen flashes of her memories as I'd healed her—not enough to really know her, but enough to get an idea of how she had lived before us. From what I'd witnessed, she had endured more pain, more turmoil, more death than some of the most seasoned of soldiers.

It didn't matter if Kian was trying to make her survive out of spite. The next time he was within arm's reach, I would pummel him to dust.

Swallowing the hurt I scented, she lifted her chin and straightened her spine. I knew if I offered comfort, she'd just shrug me off, so I tightened my thighs around hers, and wrapped my arm around her waist, in likely the only version of a hug she'd accept.

Then I pushed the horse harder, passing my idiot friend toward the inn that would be our refuge for the night.