“I have so many questions,” I say.
He nods, a faint smile touching his lips. “I know, but like sex, they’ll have to wait.”
“Okay.”
Xavier pushes away from the door and takes a step that falters. I rush to support him, but he waves me off and sinks to the floor with a weary exhale.
“Don’t worry,” he murmurs at seeing the alarm on my face. “I just need a minute. I used up all the energy I had getting back to you.”
I drop down to kneel beside him. “You’re scaring me. Are you sure you don’t need to see the doctor?”
He leans back against the wall, closing his eyes as if struggling to stay coherent. “The antidote worked, or I’d be dead. But this is the result of having the poison in my body for over an hour. Just let me rest for a second and then we’ll get in the bed.”
His reassurance does little to ease the knot of worry tightening in my stomach, but I go along with it. I sit down beside him, my shoulder brushing lightly against his.
“Come here.” He reaches over to grab my shoulders and tugs me onto his lap. “That’s better.”
In this quiet, tender moment, I focus on the rise and fall of his chest, taking comfort in the simple, steady rhythm of his breathing. The sight of him so drained, so utterly spent, is jarring. I watch him despite being desperate to sleep.
After a few minutes, his breathing deepens, and the muscles in his body relax. Even while asleep, he still maintains his hold on me. I rest my head on his shoulder, soaking in the warmth of him, and the comfort of his presence. His grip tightens slightly in his sleep, as though he’s determined to keep me safe.
Luckily for him, I’m willing to do the same.
Sunlight filtersin through the thin curtains, gently pulling me from sleep. My eyes flutter open, and for a moment, I’m disoriented, the softness of the bed and the quiet of the room feeling foreign after the tense vigil of last night. I sit up, my heart pounding as I scan the room. The other side of the bed is empty, the sheets cool under my touch.
Did I only dream of Xavier coming back to me?
“Xavier?” My voice is scratchy, sleep still clinging to it. When I don’t hear a response, a spike of panic shoots through me. I throw the covers off and swing my legs to the floor. The memories of last night—the Trial, the fear, his exhausted face—are suddenly sharp, vivid.
I stand, my movements quick and anxious, as I scan the small room. My gaze homes in on his clothes from last night having been discarded on the floor. At least I know I’m not delusional.
The bathroom door is ajar, a sliver of steam escaping into the room. Then, the sound of the shower turning off catches my attention, and a minute later, Xavier steps out of the bathroom, atowel tied loosely around his waist. Water droplets trail down his chest and arms, glistening in the light. His hair is damp, tousled from the shower, and he looks... so different from the exhausted man who had collapsed last night. He’s revitalized and fresh.
And sexy as fuck.
I don’t know what those V-lines are called, but I do know one thing: they are like a fucking neon-lit marquee, pointing me in the right direction for a good time.
He walks over to the dresser and opens a drawer, rummaging through it for some clothes. For a brief, hormonal moment, I’m caught off guard by the sight of him, the lines of his muscles, the way the towel hangs just so, concealing his cock. If I ignore the outline of it.
I mentally chide myself—this is hardly the time for such distractions. But oh boy, is it a dick-straction. Maybe Raven is onto something…
I fight off a blush and clear my throat. “So, about the Trial.”
Xavier pauses, a shirt in hand, and turns to face me. “Hello to you too, little raptor.”
“Sorry,” I mumble. “How are you feeling? You look good.”
So fucking good.
“I’m better, but my muscles are sore, and my head is fucked.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and briefly closes his eyes. “That should wear off in a couple days, but I’ve been ordered to stop by the infirmary so the doctor can check for any damage to my liver or kidneys.”
I walk over to the other dresser where my clothes are stored. “I’m coming with you.”
After I get dressed, we step into the hallway. Xavier’s presence is a steady force, but even his energy is subdued. It could just be his body recovering or he’s keeping his thoughts from me.
“Why were you talking shit to Ben during the Trial?” I ask.
Xavier glances around, assessing our surroundings with caution written all over his features. Once his scan is complete, he looks at me, his expression more serious than I’ve ever seen it.
