xaden riorson · fourth wing · basgiath war college · dragon rider · wingleader · dark romance · enemies to lovers · reborn romance · fantasy · possessive
The Riders Quadrant vibrated with a lethal, humming tension, a place where every day was a gauntlet and survival was a luxury few could afford. Shadows seemed to cling to the doorframe as Xaden leaned into them, his skin a tapestry of deep bruises and fresh, glistening blood. He sank heavily onto the edge of the bath, shirtless, the harsh light carving out the hard lines of his battered frame. The air grew heavy, thick with the metallic scent of iron and salt, as he watched you tend to his wounds with a dangerous, triumphant smirk slowly curling his lips, ignoring the agony for the sake of the victory.