Chapter 130 Like leaves in the wind
Elric's POV
Every bruise on my ribs aches as I try to breathe normally. The air in the cell is heavy with the smell of damp earth and old blood. Outside the bars, a single torch burns weakly, its flickering light throwing long shadows across Omar’s face.
He kneels in front of me without a word, his hands surprisingly careful as he dabs at the cut above my eyebrow with a piece of cloth previously brought in by a young slave.
His brows pull together in a frown, as a low mutter escapes his lips.
“I have never met anyone as stupid as you,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper yet sharp enough to slice through the silence. “Willing to throw yourself in front of a blade for someone else’s foolishness. What kind of fool does that make you? Do you enjoy bleeding for nothing?”
I jerk my head away from his touch, ignoring the fresh sting that blooms across my temple.
Omar's brows furrow harder but he reaches out again.
This time I shove his wrists aside with more force than I intend, but the anger feels good, like it might drown out the way my skin tingles whenever I catch his scent.
“If you are going to keep blabbing like this, you should have just let the slave tend to my wounds,” I snap. “At least she would not lecture me while she works. I don't need your pity or your opinions, Omar.”
His eyes flash with something dark and dangerous, and before I can pull back further he grabs my jaw in one powerful hand, his fingers firm against my skin but not quite bruising.
He leans in so close that I feel the heat of his breath ghost across my lips.
Suddenly the cell feels smaller, like the walls are closing in until there’s nothing left but the two of us and the loud beat of my pulse in my ears.
“You had better mind what you say to me, prisoner,” he growls, his voice quiet and controlled. “You are not in the position to decide how you are treated. One wrong word and I could have the guards drag you out and finish what they started. You are lucky I am even bothering with these cuts at all.”
Every rational part of me knows now's not the time… yet my gaze drops to his mouth, to the way his lips press together in that tight line of irritation.
The memory crashes over me without warning. His lips on mine, my tongue in his mouth…
My body betrays me instantly and heat floods through my veins like liquid fire, spreading from my chest downward until my skin feels too tight, too hot, as if the mate bond itself is laughing at both of us.
My breath catches, and I know he sees it because his pupils widen for the briefest second right before he shoves me backward with a disgusted sound.
He stands abruptly, towering over me in the cramped space, and runs a hand through his hair as if trying to shake off whatever just passed between us.
When he speaks again his voice is calm, almost too calm. “Do you love him that much?”
The question is unexpected and takes me by surprise. I stare up at him, stunned, my mouth opening and closing once before I can force words out.
“What are you even talking about?” I ask, confusion tangling with the lingering heat in my blood.
Omar rolls his eyes dramatically before fixing me with a glare. That usual blend of contempt and something harsher I can’t quite place.
“You and Ruel,” he says flatly. “Are the two of you a thing? Is that why you keep risking your neck for him like some lovesick idiot?”
My eyes widen before a loud, disbelieving snort escapes me in the quiet cell. “You really are a dumbshit,” I tell him, shaking my head even though the motion makes the cut on my scalp throb.
“Ruel is like a brother to me. Nothing more. We've been through every battle together. I owe him my life, but not in the way you are imagining.”
Omar’s glare only deepens, the muscles in his jaw working as he processes my words.
I cannot help the small smirk that tugs at my split lip. “What is the matter, Omar? Are you jealous?”
He does not answer right away. Instead he turns slightly, staring at the bars as if the iron might give him the answers he wants.
When he finally speaks his voice is quieter than before, almost resigned. “We should… we should break the bond.”
The words hit harder than any punch I’ve ever felt. Then with a frown I push myself to my feet, ignoring the way my knees protest and the fresh ache that flares along my side.
Standing now we are nearly eye to eye, and I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his smaller hands flex at his sides.
“We cannot be a thing,” he continues before I can respond, each syllable clipped. “This… whatever this is between us… it is a mistake. It has always been a mistake.”
I nod slowly, keeping my face carefully blank even as something twists sharp and painful behind my ribs. “Fine,” I say, steady. “I agree then.”
For a moment he looks almost disappointed, his teeth catching his lower lip in a quick, unconscious bite that sends another unwelcome spark through me.
You expected me to fight you on it, didn't you?
The realization settles warm and dangerous in my chest, and I take one deliberate step closer, closing the gap until only a hand’s breadth separates us.
“I will break the bond,” I tell him softly, “but only on one condition. You, Omar, have to prove that you truly hate me.”
Immediately he lifts his fist, his knuckles whitening as he holds it between us like a warning.
I reach up without hesitation and cover it with my own hand, my palm pressing against his warm skin. My skin tingles when I feel the tremor that runs through him.
With a smirk, I continue, “You will have to prove your hatred by not kissing me back.” I say softly.
His mouth opens, words forming on his tongue, but I do not give him the chance. Instead I surge forward and capture his lips with mine, pouring every confusing, furious, desperate emotion into the contact.
The taste of him floods my senses, warm and familiar, like finding my way home again.
Omar groans against my mouth, a low sound that vibrates through my chest, while his free hand slams once against my sternum in what might be protest.
I start to pull back, testing him, giving him the out he claims he wants.
Instead his fingers fist in the front of my torn shirt, yanking me closer so hard I lose my balance for a second. The kiss deepens instantly, turning fierce and hungry.
My senses scatter like leaves in the wind. I reach down without thinking, grabbing the firm curve of his ass and dragging him flush against me.