Chapter 96 Cold touch
Ira's POV
It has been exactly one week since the new recruits arrived at the base, and now, more than ever before, the entire place feels like it has been pulled tighter.
Training breaks have been cut thinner, the pressure on the warriors only gets more intense.
Because of the increased activity, we the servants have no choice but to match that pace. Now our buckets of water getting empty doesn't mean we're about to have a break. Now it only means…
“Go refill, dammit!” A fatigued guard yells at Sia. She bows and jogs off and I catch Ben staring after her.
Whatever it is between them is definitely better than whatever I've got going on with Ruel.
‘Cause not once has that man looked my way all day. Yet I feel encouraged to come here everyday because I get to watch him.
Ruel stands in the center of the yard today, his bare chest and back are fully exposed to the cold.
He swings the heavy wooden staff in his hand in wide, powerful arcs. Like a spellbound victim, I watch his broad shoulders roll with each turn.
He twists, his abs tightening into hard, sharp lines as a single bead of sweat slides slowly down the center of his chest…
I bite down on my lip, watching it disappear below the low edge of his dark pants.
He's so hot. The sad thing is he knows it. Fucking dick.
My face is pulled in a frown but my mind… dear goddess my mind.
I imagine crossing the dirt right now, pressing both palms flat against that slick, tanned skin, dragging my fingers slowly down those hard ridges, tasting the salt of his sweat with the flat of my tongue.
The thought alone makes my nipples tighten painfully against the rough weave of my shirt and sharpens the ache between my legs until I have to shift my weight from one foot to the other just to stay upright.
I want him so badly it actually hurts… and pisses me off that he doesn't seem to give a shit about me.
I know it was just sex, and I don't want anything more… but I'd at least thought I wasn't the only one dreaming of doing it again.
“You look like you could use some water.” A warm deep voice draws my attention.
I bow slightly before reaching into the bucket and giving him a bottle of water.
Bukasvad stands there with the same calm, gentle smile he has shown the first time we met. He bends slightly, takes the water from me and opens it.
Tiny drops slide down his jaw. My gaze falls to his chest and I internally grimace at the deep scar on his left rib.
I guess that's a blade scar or something. The pain he must have gone through…
I'm almost tempted to ask but I don't. Instead I take the empty bottle from him and keep it.
“You should take one too.” He says with a look that tells me he means it.
“We're not allowed to.” I say calmly.
Cath appears beside us a moment later, wiping sweat from her forehead with the back of her wrist. She grins when she sees Bukasvad.
“You are so fit. How do you do it?” she pushes, causing my eyes to almost pop out.
He lifts one shoulder in a small, easy shrug, his eyes never leave my face while he answers her. “I have learned to save my energy for the things that truly matter.”
Cath laughs brightly and nudges me but a warrior walks up to her bucket and she rushes to attend to her.
Bukasvad tilts his head slightly, his voice lowers when he speaks again. “Are you all right, Ira?” He asks, surprising me.
“Yeah?” I say quietly, unsure why he's asking.
“He studies me silently for a while making me slightly uncomfortable. But then he speaks again. “Why did you choose to work here at the base? It is not an easy life.”
I let out a small, dry laugh before I can stop myself. “I didn’t choose it.”
He blinks, clearly curious. “Then how…”
“I didn’t have a choice.” I shrug. “Not everyone gets to decide where they end up. Some of us get snatched off the streets because we are small, because we are alone, because we have no one to protect us. That’s how it works for people like me.”
Bukasvad’s expression doesn’t change much, but something shifts quietly behind his eyes. “I did not know.” he says slowly, thoughtfully.
“Of course you didn’t.” I smile at him. “You grew up in the pack house. You've probably only known comfort. You know safety, you know what it feels like to have walls and food and people who care whether you live or die….” the words get stuck in my throat because even as I speak, his eyes darken with hurt.
I'm not sure if it's pity. But he looks at me for a long moment. Then, unexpectedly, he nods again and lets out a soft, almost self-deprecating laugh. “Not everything is how it seems, Ira. Our lives are more similar than you think, more similar than most people would ever believe.”
Before I can ask what he means, he lifts his hand. My eyes flutter involuntarily as the back of his fingers brush gently across my forehead, wiping away a bead of sweat I had not even realized was there.
The touch is light and tender, yet cold… very cold.
I step back quickly, my eyes flying across the yard to Ruel.
He has stopped swinging the staff completely. It hangs loose in his grip now, his chest rising and falling with heavy, angry breaths.
His furious gaze locked on us.
Suddenly sergeant Scarface appears next to Bukasvad and claps a heavy hand down on his shoulder. “Buk, be careful with that one. She belongs to the commander.”
Bukasvad turns his head slowly. He glances at Ruel briefly then takes one careful step back, creating space between us.
But before he walks away completely, he reaches out once more. His cold fingers are gentle as he brushes a few loose strands of hair behind my ear, the touch lingering just a heartbeat too long.
Then he turns and leaves.
Across the yard, Ruel suddenly surges forward. He attacks his sparring partner with renewed ferocity, the staff in his hand moving faster and harder, until the other warrior stumbles and falls hard into the dirt.
Ruel stands over him, breathing heavily, chest heaving.
Elric appears almost instantly. He grabs Ruel by the upper arm and pulls him back, speaking low and fast into his ear, forcing him to step away from the fallen man.
Ruel does not resist, but his eyes never leave me.
And for some strange reason, watching him like this… so openly jealous… sends a small, unexpected spark of amusement curling through my chest.
I'm not invisible after all.