Page 26 of Tempted By Poison

All the death and missions have become a part of my life, and that's something that’ll never go away. But what else is there to live for when all we do is survive? Why can’t we live and share our precious moments with someone, anyone...because that day can be your last? “Mal is a survivor because of you. You've given her a power that she wields with honor. It won't be the last time this happens, and if anything, she’ll be even stronger. Or she’ll brag about it.” I glance at him, hoping that’ll pull a slight grin from him.

His lips curl to the side, not a full smile, but it's there. “I think you're right about that last part.”

I nod with a smile, agreeing. I enjoy being the one who can make him feel somewhat better. Even if it’s only a little.

Both of us stare at Mal; it’s a comfortable silence.

“I didn’t get to ask if you were okay,” he says under his breath.

“You did. You asked at the Gala.”

His words float back into my mind when we were dancing together.

Poison cures poison.

Continuous flutters flap around in my stomach. I can vividly recall the way his body pressed against mine, how his breath teased my skin. How safe I felt when he was in my presence.

He touches my arm, and I cut my eyes to it. “Let me see.”

Nodding his head toward the minor cuts and gashes on my arm and legs. “Bedford already checked and cleaned them.”

“I still want to make sure,” he says warmly.

I search his face for a second, his intense eyes doing the same to me until I relinquish. “Fine!” I stroll to the couch a couple of feet away from Mal’s bed; there’s no masking his looming presence. I take a seat, lifting my dress to sit comfortably. I should’ve cleaned myself up, but I was so focused on Mal I haven’t had the chance.

Ronan kneels in front of me, and a piece of his dark lock falls past his eyes as he examines the slices on my legs where the glass dug in. His jaw clenches and his nose flares as he touches my knee. Vibrant sensations ignite at the spot, rushing to the apex of my thighs.

“This shouldn't have happened.”

“I’ve had worse.” I continue gazing at him, my fingers itching to tuck that damp piece back in.

“That doesn’t make it any better. I’m supposed to protect you.” It must be the fifth time he’s told me that, and each time he does, I hate it less.

“You can’t control what happens to me,” I say, forcing myself to hold in my breath while his fingers play around the marks on my skin. It doesn’t hurt. It’s nice...like it’s exactly where it should be.

He doesn’t look at me, though, and it’s almost as if he’s trying to avoid my attention.

“You worry about everyone else, but has anyone ever asked if you’re okay?”

His brows pinch slightly, and his hand stops moving along my calf. He holds it there, and I peer down at it. It’s large compared to my leg. I also take a second to notice the minor cuts and old gashes painted across his skin. Then, Victor's deplorable words drift into my mind.

What about the other scars?That evil smirk playing on his face.

I want to ask him what Victor meant. What is Ronan hiding underneath it all? My curiosity is strong, but maybe it's not the right time; there’s never a perfect moment or way to ask someone about their trauma. It comes off as inconsiderate.

I flicker back to him, and he’s still pondering on the simple question I asked. So, I ask again, this time in a whisper. “Are...you okay?”

He doesn’t respond, but his brow furrows deeper. His jaw rocks side-to-side slightly, and he keeps his heavy gaze on my wounds. “No one has ever asked me that before,” he finally says coarsely.

My shoulders sink. In this world, there are no emotions, no reason to question your mental state, or focus on the mundane questions like ‘how are you?’ It may seem like nothing to others, but that question means everything to us. Unfortunately, we live, survive, kill our target, and move on.

We’re not taught to be pacified.

Yet, a strange pull tugs in me, a distant chill surfaces up my spine like watching roaring waves crash onto shore. The pressure builds and builds until I can’t help myself. I scoot forward and wrap my arms gently around his neck. I part my legs and pull his heavy body into me.

Then his arms hook around my waist tight and he tugs me even closer. We find ourselves in a tight embrace, one I would never normally find myself in. Maybe this is happening to me because of everything that transpired tonight. Or perhaps I’m finally...feeling human again.

He stiffens, not reciprocating, but I don’t care.

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