Chapter 118 Do something about it
Ira's POV
If Bukasvad had asked me to leave with him a few months ago maybe I wouldn't have thought twice about it.
But I've only just started to feel happy again. I know this won't last but I'm not about to end it prematurely.
And if I follow him to the east then I'll have to abandon all hope of saving Anna and Oren. And I'll have to leave Ruel.
“Does he know who you truly are?” Bukasvad's voice echoes in my mind and I drop my head against the cold wall, pressing my feet into the bed as I hug my knees.
Neither following Bukasvad's nor staying here feels like Freedom. How am I sure that if I follow Buk, I won't simply be jumping into another cage?
Yet how am I sure that Ruel won't actually kill me if he ever discovers who I am?
Am I wicked for choosing a man over hundreds of people? Why do I have to feel guilty for a problem I know I can never solve?!
My fingers slide into my hair and tug hard enough to sting. The pain grounds me for a second, but it does nothing to stop the churning in my stomach.
I lean down, reach under the bunk frame, and pull out the old book, the first thing I stole here. Unlike the first time I'd opened it, I now know most of what is written inside are lies.
Carefully constructed lies.
Because the sempyrs were never the monsters history painted them to be.
Anger coils in my veins as I read texts that list out dates of massacres, the names of every fallen leader…
Although, the werewolves are praised for their bravery… their act of unwavering strength in killing the innocent.
Why didn't no one stand up for the strays. I mean these people must have had werewolf neighbors and friends… some werewolves were even family to these strays so how come none of them fought to defend the strays?
How does an entire clan watch someone drag others to their death and do nothing? Or was alpha king Andre also killing werewolves?
I have so many questions but no one to answer.
My face contorts in a frown as several things don't add up. What I saw was how Andre killed some clan leaders but how were they able to overpower their followers?
How did they successfully kill so many sempyrs and witches? How did he easily overpower such strong clans? To the extent where history is changed and the strays are portrayed as beggars without a home.
The missing pieces make me want to go back, to find out what truly happened. And I remember the warlock clan wasn't present. So does that mean their leader is still alive?
The door swings open without a knock. Swiftly I shove the book under the bed, my heart racing as I stand to my feet.
“What?” Ruel asks in a light tone as he steps into the room. “What are you hiding?”
I force my expression to stay safe. “Why are you here?” The question comes out meaner than I intend and I internally grimace at myself.
Ruel only smiles wider, like he finds my attitude endearing. He crosses the small room in gentle strides, his hands carefully wrapping around my waist.
In one smooth motion he lifts me off the bed. Instinctively my legs wrap around his hips, my body hugging his enticing muscles.
Ruel backs up until he can sit on the edge of the bed with me straddling his lap. And even when I'm settled on him, his arms lock around my lower back, feeling warm and solid.
How am I supposed to leave this tonight? No one has ever held me this close.
He presses a slow kiss to my cheek.
No one has ever kissed me but him.
“You’ve been quiet lately,” he murmurs against my skin. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
I slide my fingers through his hair, tugging lightly. The soft strands feel warm under my fingers and I focus on that, trying to stay in the moment and not allow my thoughts waver.
“You’ve been awfully touchy lately yourself.” I say, sniffing his cheek. Why? I don't know… I just felt like it. And he doesn't push me away so I do it again.
He chuckles, the sound warming me up instantly.
“It keeps me sane… being close to you, being able to touch and feel you keeps me from crashing out at everything.” He mutters then rests his forehead against my collarbone.
My heartbeat changes. This behavior is new, for both of us. It makes me realize just how much has changed since we confessed our feelings.
But how long will it last?
For a moment he stays that way, breathing me in. When he lifts his head again his eyes are softer, and searching. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you today. And then I asked someone to…” he stalls, exhaling.
“You had someone watch me?” I mutter in disbelief. At first it's amusing until I realize what that means. “Ruel,” I lean away, feeling uncomfortable.
“I don't want to fight with you.” He says and I swallow waiting for the inevitable question. “What did you discuss with Bukasvad?” Ruel asks, holding my gaze.
My stomach clenches.
Ruel's voice stays steady. “I’m not accusing you of anything. I want to trust you, Ira… I do trust you. But I’m allowed to feel this, right? This twist in my gut when I hear you spent some minutes alone with him in a dark room?”
He sounds so careful like he's worried I'll flip.
I cup his cheek, suddenly feeling guilty cause I know I'll never tell him the truth. With my thumb I brush a faint stubble along his jaw. “You have nothing to worry about,” I tell him. "He was only briefing me on something.”
Ruel doesn't look like he believes a word in saying but he doesn't argue.
I lean in and kiss him and surprisingly his mouth moves against mine… gently at first, then hungrier.
I arc into him as his hand travels up my spine while the other squeezes my butt. When we break apart he rests his forehead against mine again.
“I just…” He exhales. “You’re mine, Ira. And I know how this sounds, but I can’t help the way my blood boils when I think someone else might be looking at you the way I do."
“You are so cute,” I say with a warm smile.
“I'm being serious.” he mutters.
But I'm done listening. My movement is slow yet controlled when I roll my hips.
“Ira,” he warns in a lower octave, his fingers digging into my sides hard enough to bruise.
“What?” I whisper, lips brushing his ear. “You don’t like it?” I do it again, watching the way his pupils blow wide.
He growls low in his throat then pulls me closer. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”
I rock forward a third time, letting him feel every inch of pressure. “Then do something about it.”