Chapter 85 His unwavering gaze
Ruel's POV
I step into the clinic and pause, immediately aware of her before I see her.
Beneath the smell of herbs and disinfectant lies that faint trace of wildflowers, mostly jasmine, and earth that I've come to associate with Ira alone.
My chest tightens without warning, a vise grip that makes my next breath feel labored.
I move forward, my eyes fixed on Ira's confused gaze.
I should go find Rita in her office where she'll definitely be, but my steps carry me toward the counter without conscious thought.
Ira looks away, turning around to fix some pills on a small shelf behind. My eyes don’t waver.
The pull in my chest grows stronger the longer she deliberately avoids me.
“Commander Ruel,” Catherine's voice breaks in just as my hand brushes the counter. I freeze mid-stride, caught off guard, my fingers curling slightly against the worn out wood.
I swallow hard, “Yes?” I manage, feeling heat creep up my neck, a rare betrayal of my ruined composure.
She tilts her head slightly, her eyes sharp and knowing. “What can I do for you?” she asks professionally, but I catch the subtle lift in her brow, a faint arch that tells me she noticed.
Noticed how I was striding straight toward Ira, without even realizing it myself. The realization is harsh, clawing at me. I came so close to bypassing the front entirely, drawn by the need to be closer to her.
I cough once, “Where… where’s Rita?” I ask.
“Her office. She said she’s expecting you,” Catherine replies, her tone even, but I catch the hint of amusement in her eyes.
I nod, my body turning on immediately as I march toward the office door before I can give myself time to overthink it.
We don't need to sniff her, Krist. I grit within my mind.
“But she smells so good.” Krist complains.
My heart pounds madly in my chest, each beat echoing the conflict inside me.
Rita steps out just in time, her hands busy with a paper.
“Commander,” she greets, her voice calm and direct, gesturing me inside with a nod.
I follow her into the small office and close the door behind me, the latch clicking into place.
The outside noise shuts off instantly.
“We need to discuss the risks of this invasion,” she starts, waiting for me to sit before she settles into her chair behind the desk.
“I assumed as much,” I say, placing both elbows on the table. There literally is no other reason she ever wants to talk with me.
She meets my eyes squarely, no nonsense in her gaze. “This war will cost lives,” she says plainly, her words measured. “The strays are unforgiving. And if the rumors are true that sempyrs are more beyond the east border then we will most likely have the largest number of casualties we've ever recorded.”
I nod slowly, listening to everything she's saying.
“We need supplies and skilled healthcare workers, commander.”
“I’ve requested reinforcements,” I reply, keeping my tone steady. “Extra trained hands, additional transport wagons, medical supplies. I sent the missive days ago, and I marked it as urgent.”
She leans forward slightly, her fingers interlacing on the desk. “And if the alpha king delays? Or denies the request outright like he's done the others?”
I hold her gaze. “We adapt. We will find a way out. Some will pull back and assist so you don't work alone. We've done it before, Rita. We'll push through with what we have.”
She exhales softly, a quiet sigh that speaks volumes. “That’s not a plan, Commander. That’s endurance. Please don't let us gamble with our lives again this time. What if I'm attacked… what then?”
I pause, the weight of her words settling heavily on my shoulders. “It’s what the command allows. The orders are set, Rita. I'm not permitted to source for help outside the alpha king.”
She leans back in her chair, her expression settling into that familiar resolve, the lines around her eyes deepening slightly. We sit in silence for a moment, the weight of the conversation hanging between us. Then she speaks again. “Then here’s my request. Give me five people… immediately.”
I raise an eyebrow, “From where? The ranks are stretched thin as it is.”
“Anywhere,” she says without hesitation. “I need stable hands, off-duty guards, kitchen staff, the servants… I want people who can follow instructions without panicking at the sight of blood or the sound of screams. Quick learners who can carry on if anything should happen to me.”
“You want to train them,” I state.
“Yes,” she confirms. “Basic wound dressing, splinting fractures, recognizing shock,”
I consider it, turning the idea over in my mind. It's practical and proactive. “And if the reinforcements arrive after the training?”
“I return the five to their duties,” she says simply. “No harm done. If not, we will march our men to their possible death.”
“How long will it take to make them functional?” I ask.
“Weeks,” she replies. “ At least three weeks.”
I nod decisively. “Choose them today. I'll ensure by tomorrow morning they all report to you. I'll issue the orders myself to avoid any pushback.”
Rita smiles. “Thank you, Commander. You would make a great alpha.”
“Anything else?” I ask, rising from the chair, trying to remind myself she doesn't suspect anything and is just praising me.
“No, that would be all commander.” She says, escorting me outside the door.
Ira is still at the shelves, her back turned to me as she organizes bundles of dried leaves.
Her graceful movements steal my attention. She shifts slightly, and a strand of red hair falls over her face. I watch as she carefully adjusts the tray in her hands, before tucking the stray hair behind her ear.
I want to see her fully, turn her toward me, drink in the details of her face, whether her eyes light up or narrow in thought.
But I force my gaze past her, locking it on the exit.
I saunter toward the door with great effort. The moment I make it outside, I start regretting my decision.
I should have sniffed her.
I inhale deeply, getting a grip on my insane emotions.