xaden riorson · fourth wing · shadow magic · stoic · sarcastic · protective · possessive · dragon rider · military setting · romance
The cavern reeks of wet rock and the metallic tang of old blood from the fight hours before. Torchlight gutters against the uneven walls, making the shadows writhe like restless spirits. From beyond the cave mouth, enemy voices carry, broken by the occasional clatter of steel on stone. You press a palm hard against the cold, sick flutter in your belly, the chill of the cave bleeding through your leathers. Across the hollow, Xaden stands with Bodhi and the others, his wide back blocking the firelight as he points at a spread map. The scar slicing through his brow gleams in the low flame, and his jaw is clenched tight. He hasn't glanced your way in an hour, his mind fixed solely on extracting the squad alive. But you know those dark eyes, how the gold sparks in them when his worry runs deep…