This Was A Man

From my research, my fellow dragon riders, I've found that to successfully create a witch-spy that is able to blend well with Dragonians, a dark sorcery is held. The price of this dark sorcery is heavy, and the extent of resources needed for it is vast and largely unknown. But I do know that it requires a blood sacrifice of our fellow brothers in order to make it a success.

- Rider Kankari Attamas, to the First ever Royalty Council.

Vinnandra frozed, her eyes bouncing between the man's gorgeous face and equally gorgeous torso.

He smirked, lifting his delicately curved left eyebrow at her. Realising that she'd just been checking him out unabashedly, she quickly averted her eyes.

Clearing her throat so as not to sound or look anything like the crying girl he met three weeks ago, she began talking with a nonexistent air of authority.

"Master Xander, I kept announcing myself but you wouldn't usher me in. I apologise for the intrusion."

It wasn't until then that Vinn noticed the bloody towel in his hands. She quickly scanned his body for any wound but she found none.

"Already adjusted to life as a slave," Xander said the words like they were an insult, "I thought you would do better, Vinnandra."

What was with this man and saying her full name. It was jarring as most people thought her name too long and they were right.

And while she didn't want to admit it, she liked the way Xander Lenklock spoke her name… he said it with so much meaning.

In his mouth, her name sounded like a piece of carefully crafted haven. Reachable, and yet, out of reach.

Not knowing how to reply to that comment, she instead asked. "Where can I drop the water?"

"No need to be in such a hurry. You'll be personally attending to me tonight." Xander replied in a matter-of-fact tone. He turned away from her and took a seat at a table in the tent causing Vinn to spot the source of the blood on the towel.

Besides the unmistakable and very noticeable lean sculpted muscles of his naked back, a harsh vertical gash dripped with blood all the way to his dark pants which happened to be the only piece of clothing he was wearing.

Getting the message, Vinn scooped some of the water into a smaller bowl, and then walked to the seat Xander was seated on. On the table is an array of medical supplies, from bandages to ointments of different types, and different sizes of scissors she'd never seen before.

She did the best thing she was good—she observed him. And mere looking at how everything was set out, it was obvious to her that this was a man who took great care of his body just as much as he caused harm to it.

Standing in such close proximity to him with only a view of his back caused Vinn's breath to catch in her throat, and her heart to beat a little faster. Besides the fresh wound, they were other aged scars that adorned his back. This was a man who sought violence unafraid, she observed again, and yet, that fact almost didn't show on his face.

He was so young, and yet his body was so battered.

Vinn poured one of the wound cleaning ointment into the water and then dipped the towel in it. She started cleaning the wound, and a strange kind of silence befell on them inside the tent.

She was so acutely aware of Xander—his light breathing, the masculine wooden scent he exuded, the sheen of sweat at the dip of his back, his tousled silver white hair.

She took great care cleaning the wound, careful not to press too hard, and trying equally as hard to regulate the current turbulent wild beating of her heart.

Amidst the chaos happening within her, Xander sat like a calm in a raging storm.

Well, the raging storm of her body.

This was a man who is so in control of everything about and around him— continued her observation.

"You didn't strike me as someone who would fit into such a demeaning role." Xanders voice cut through the thick silence, almost startling her. "I mean, yes, you were a crying mess, but I thought I saw fire in your eyes. Perhaps it was the colour of your hair that deceived me…it does look like fire." He trailed, successfully passing the snide message behind his snide comment.

Strangely enough, the comment about her hair didn't offend her. Instead she almost felt elated at the comparison of her hair to fire. In a place where fire was a good omen, no one had thought to compare the symbol of her horrible identity to the element —instead it was compared against every dirty thing that came to mind.

Thrash, cursed, outcast, evil omen, and hateful.

"I don't understand what you're saying, Master." Vinn simply replied, shaking off her trailing thoughts. She reached for the bandage, but before she could grab it, his palm closed over hers abruptly causing her heart to jump out of her chest.

Literally.

Eyes wide like saucers, she could only stare at his face, which was now turned to take in hers.

"Who do you serve in your capacity as an official slave?" He suddenly asked, his hot palm burning against her palm.

There was the startling clarity that there was no more space between them. Between his intense stares, and Vinn trying to control the wild beat of her heart, she could swear she could taste something in the air.

Desire, mixed with a ninety-nine percent dose of desperation.

But why desperation?

She shook her head internally and instead tried to focus on answering his question. But as expected of herself, she ended up as a stuttering mess.

"I… I ser…serve as… as a pub… public sla…"

"Words!" Xander cut her off cleanly, his silver eyes holding hers captive, "coherent words if you will."

Still enraptured by the desperation that hung in the air, Vinn took a deep breath and started again.

"I serve as a public slave. I work in the Lenklock Archives Library."

"You will work for me from now onwards." He ordered, finally removing his palm from hers.

Vinn released a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. Taking the bandage, she started the excruciating task of tying it around his torso, over his wound.

This meant her chest was literally hugging his back, and she had to lean in to him to get the bandage at his front and then around his back.

Getting to the task, and doing her best to not show how much the proximity affected her, she decided to throw a question of her own.

She'd gone through too much to be tugged by the whims and caprices of men that want nothing but to control her and use her however they saw fit.

Whether it be accusing her of a high crime when she was barely eighteen, or reducing her to the status of a slave… she needed to make her own voice heard through it all at the very least

"And pray tell why do you want me to serve you?"

"Because it would be lovely to have you by my side." His voice held a dark smile, combined with the obvious sarcasm, it was hard to tell what he was thinking.

"I don't think that's an answer master." Vinnandra forged ahead, finally tying the bandage at the end.

This time Xander stood to his full length, the sudden, quick movement throwing her off balance.

Before her ass could kiss the floor, his hand as quick as lightning snaked over waist, tugging her whole body to his. Instinctively, Vinn's hands clutched onto his shoulder for support.

She didn't even want to imagine what that scene would look like to anyone who decided it was a good time to enter his tent.

"Because Vinnandra," he drawled, not affected by their intimate position, "I've a good feeling you would be my best ally."

At that moment, someone walked in. But Vinn couldn't see who it was as after all, her back was facing the entrance, and Xander's hands still held her waist captive.

She had barely mulled Xander's last words to her, and for a second, she forgot the indiscretion to their current position.

One look at Xander's expression for any sign of who might have entered showed him turn from playful and serious, to cold and distant.

"Well, hello brother." The intruder from behind her said, still out of her peripheral view.

Brother? That confused Vinn. Was Xander not the only son of Lord Xavier Lenklock?