Playing The Victims [BL]

Chapter One Hundred & Twenty | Fourth World

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The slave flinched, trying to make herself look small. She clung onto her profusely throbbing wrist, her eyes stinging with the tears which threatened to fall. She gnawed at her bottom lip, desperately trying to suppress her fruitless sobs. Her shoulders visibly shook, and she didn't dare lift her head. She had made a mistake, one which was unforgivable in the eyes of her master. Even though it was something minor, given his current mood, she wondered if she'd survive the rest of the day.

The spillage of boiling water was because of her feeble body; but she was unable to lift the tub from off of the fire without risking her own life in the process. She was only able to inch it half way, but before she could do anything else, it toppled down. Water pooled out and across the ground. It drew the man, who had been silently lost in thought, back to his surroundings.

The water had singed her skin, growing increasingly painful as the seconds went by. But it was made no better when the future chief, and someone she had previously thought was a reserved and kind warrior, snapped at her. The venom behind the man's insults echoed in her mind.

Hawk was uncontrollably angry. As soon as the ceremony was brought to an end, he had stormed off without a glance back at the useless people that stood around with wide eyes. His jaw was tightly clenched as his feet took him to the hut belonging to Falcon. But, as predicted, both he and Finch weren't there when he flicked open the furs and stormed inside.

It left the man who thrived on control, feeling useless. And with the constant reminder of the healing wound on his leg, Hawk couldn't get Finch out of his mind. He wanted to wrap his hands around the boy's slender neck, and yet at the same time he wanted to ensure he was kept away from Falcon and back in the position he once stood in before things got complicated.

Finch's swift movements with the knife, his heated glare and definite backbone, made Hawk feel like he was the one who had been played. He hadn't suspected Finch at all, other than knowing he possessed knowledge about things many within Viper didn't.

Then there was Zephyr, the only being which Hawk believed he'd never have to worry about. He was surrounded on a daily basis by fools who were nothing but obstructions in his path, ones he would happily kill if need be. But Zephyr had saved him on many occasions, and done so without a word or token.

And yet it was Finch, another chief's son, who had received the greatest gift of all. Hawk was truthful when he predicted the offering would be successful, given how remarkable Finch was, but he never thought that a deity who had silently watched over them, would actually open his arms to the boy.

Now he felt like he'd lost someone he couldn't determine his opinion of, but also someone who would have proven to be a strong weapon. One which was now in Falcon's hands. It made his teeth itch, and it wasn't made better when an example of the foolishness that surrounded him, dropped a tub of scorching water that flooded his hut.

He saw red and roared in the face of the slave who trembled. She was useless. She was slow at everything, and loud. And he'd found that out within the short space of time following the ceremony. She was supposed to be the replacement for Finch.

A fact which aggravated Hawk even more.

When he turned and looked at the slave once again, as she trembled and held herself pathetically, Hawk sneered lightly. But in a mere few seconds, he had a moment of clarity. Something which altered his expression rapidly. He stepped towards the woman, who continued to shake as he got closer.

"I took my anger out on you, and I didn't mean to." He revealed with a sigh of someone truly distressed. It surprised the woman, who froze and then slowly but surely, lifted her head. An action which wasn't met with punishment, as it was before, but instead greeted with a smile on behalf of Hawk.