Page 41 of Xeda

As soon as she closed the door to their room, Xeda stalked over to his side and began to pace.

"You never mentioned another vrisha," he growled.

She took a deep breath. "I didn't know. I hardly knew who any of the fighters were. And I didn't think Kaxek would compete again. Not after so long."

Xeda slowed. "Kaxek," he said, more to himself than to her. "No, never heard of him. He must have left Tryth some years ago."

"He's been fighting in these games for some time." She leaned against the door frame between their rooms, crossing her arms. "He's never lost. But that doesn't mean he can't be defeated. Not when he has an actual opponent that can equal him."

He glanced at her, seeming thankful for the subtle compliment. But he also looked uncertain. "I've fought vrisha like him before..."

"That's good," she said. "That means you'll at least have some idea of what you’re dealing with.” When he didn’t look at her, she had to ask. "Did you ever win against any of them?" He didn't speak, and her heart started to race. "Xeda. You're still standing, so surely you held your own..." He stared straight at her, and she could see the cloud of anger and sadness in his eyes.

"No," he whispered, his voice laced with seething anger. "I didn't beat them. I lost. I..." He turned away from her, and he bowed his head, bending forward as his body began to shake.

Panicked, Ophilia went for him. Without thinking, she placed a hand on his back and then jumped when he bolted upright as if surprised by her touch. She put up her hands, showing them to him, showing she meant no harm. "Please, Xeda. I know this is hard. But I believe in you. This is your moment. This is your chance to prove they can't beat you. You are stronger. And I know you won't give up easily. You'll fight till...till it kills you."

He stared down at her, and she could see a fire burning in his eyes. Even his deep red one seemed to glow. His gaze flicked down to her lips, then her neck, then to her open hands. Without warning, he took her hand in his and pulled her closer. A small little gasp passed through her teeth as she felt the heat of his body from being so close. He bent his head and, gripping her wrist firmly, examined her palm.

"What happened here?" he asked as he brushed a taloned finger over the skin of her palm. Goosebumps traveled across her arms and legs as she shivered at his touch. She looked down and saw the tiny moon-shaped prints in her skin, some even bleeding lightly.

She had hardly noticed that she had been clenching her fists so hard while talking to Sal that she had made the indents.

"I, um, had to keep myself from punching Sal in the jaw, among other things," she explained.

They both stared down at her hand, watching as his thumb brushed over hers. "I would have liked to have seen that," he said.

"Yeah, me too." She shivered again and gently pulled her hand away. "Well, I guess we should call it a night, tomorrow being the big day and everything."

He tilted his head at her, and she could practically see the gears turning. "I need to clean first." He stepped farther into his room and began to undress in front of her, taking off the grivhide.

She caught herself staring and looked away, heat tickling her neck. "Right, me too," she said, turning away, not wanting to look like a weirdo watching him.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

She stopped and looked back at him, confused. "To clean up?"

He hardly looked at her as he untied a piece of armor from his arm. "You can do that in here as well as serve me."

She grew still, unmoving by the door. "I'm sorry, serve you?"

"Yes." He dropped the piece into the chest. "You put this shine on me. I think you should also take it off." He glanced up and fixed her with a lazy yet cutting stare. A gaze not unlike the one she had imagined on him back at the dinner party. "After all, you are my warden as well as trainer aren’t you?”

She got the gist of what he was saying. He expected her to groom him in some way. Keep him looking and feeling his best. She smiled at his sudden arrogance. “That may be true, but I should remind you many trainers don't so much as lay a hand on their fighters. And fighters don't ask it of their trainers to do so."

His eyes narrowed, but she could see the spark of amusement in his gaze. “Then I guess that makes both of us an exception. Seeing as you’ve touched me many times. And now I am asking.”

Her mind turned over that remark. He waited for her reply, and she shifted on her feet, wondering if he was truly serious. "You're sure?"

"I wouldn't have mentioned it otherwise," he said.

"I mean it won't upset you?"

He paused to look her over, then dipped his head in a shrug. “I’m used to your presence, and it doesn't upset me nearly as much compared to the others."

"I should be so lucky," she said. She hesitated, then took a careful step into his room. Well, it wasn't like it would mean anything, right? Maybe in his culture, they had public baths. Or naked beaches. Maybe no one cared about that sort of thing like her culture did. He didn't see her as anything but a pesky human anyway, so surely she had nothing to fear.

She tried to keep this mentality in mind when they walked over to the pool on the opposite side of his room. But as she stood looking down at it, her confidence waned. If he loathed humans, there was no way he wanted to be naked with one. She could imagine the look of disgust on his face already.

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