“He died?” I whispered.
“Yes. Several years ago.”
A sharp pang shot through my stomach. Poor Cheriour. His family abandoned him. A lot of his friends had died. He really didn’t have anyone, did he? “How do you do it?” I asked.
“What?”
“I mean, look at me. I’ve been here a month and I’m an emotional wreck. How do you keep trucking along so calmly with all the shit that goes on here?”
“Life continues, even when tragedy occurs. You know this.” He angled his head toward me. “Your life has not been without tragedy. I heard you. That night in the forest.” His eyes met mine.
My hands paused. “You heard the Freddie Hawkins story?”
Cheriour nodded.
Shame flooded me. Sure, I’d spewed that info voluntarily. But I hadn’t actually meant for Cheriour to hear it. “That was a long time ago.”
“Perhaps. But it’s a wound that still hurts you. And I’m sorry you had to suffer it.” His lips contorted as he considered his next words. “We don’t get to choose our tragedies. Only how we respond to them. I endure the atrocities of this world because I must. When I become overwhelmed, I draw. It gives me a few moments of peace. Much like fiddling with my hair has calmed you. Although,” he grimaced, touching a hand to his side, “have you finished?”
“What? Oh, yeah. Sorry!” I withdrew my fingers from his hair and scooted beside him. “How bad is the pain?” I asked. “Put it on a scale of one to ten again. But give me anhonestanswer this time.”
“Six.” He winced as he leaned back, unfurling his other leg.
And Cheriour’s six was probably an average person’s fifteen. No wonder he was still chalk-faced. “Well, your hair looks fabulous, at least.” I rearranged the curls over his left shoulder. “Considering I didn’t even have a comb, I did a damn good job. Y’know, you should let me braid this.” I twirled a strand around my finger, trying to hide how hard my hands shook. Because Cheriour’s normally restless eyes were, once again, focused only on me.
Not that Idislikedthe attention. Shit, I’d once done everything short of performing carnival tricks to get him to focus on me. But I’d never considered howintensehis stare was. How it would make my skin prickle and my insides squirm. Cheriour’s eyes didn’t just roam over flesh. He didn’t ogle me because of my booty and boobs (although I surehopedhe liked my assets). His gaze went deeper. Like he was trying to read my mind, feel my emotions…get to the very core of who I was.
It was thrilling. And terrifying.
So I rambled. Trying to distract him and myself. “The braids would keep your hair off the back of your neck. Plus, you’d have the added bonus of looking like a Viking.”
Cheriour’s eyes moved, traveling along my arm, stopping for a moment on the sleeve of my blue/pink tunic. “You’re still wearing this?” he asked.
“Uh, yeah. Did you think I’d go back to itchy wool shirts after having this bad boy on? Hell no.” My stomach flipped and flopped, as his gaze roamed over my face, halting on my mouth.
There was a dramatic pause. Like the kind in a sappy romance movie: he stared at me, I at him. The air got all emotionally charged. He had a slack-jawed expression on his face. I trembled.
I leaned in. He swallowed, tongue moistening his lips, and tilted his head…
A full-on electriczingshot up my spine.
He drew back.
Bloody bastard.
“I’ve not told anyone about your immunity to fire,” he said.
“Aw hell. You killed the mood to bringthatup?”
Cheriour grinned. Afullone this time. A smug-as-fuck, shit-eating grin.
“You jerk,” I whacked him lightly on the shoulder, my stomach tingling when he laughed. “You’re teasing me, aren’t you?”
“A bit.” God, he had such a nice smile. The way his eyes crinkled, and those little cheek dimples peeking above the edge of his beard…swoon.And he had some seriously decent teeth, considering he lived in a world without toothpaste. Like, his teeth were both whiter and straighter than mine—how was that fair?
“I won’t say anything,” he continued. “Not until you’re comfortable discussing it. This applies to…other things as well.”
He didn’t elaborate on that last bit. But he didn’t need to. The Freddie Hawkins story had probably left him with a gazillion questions.
