Playing The Victims [BL]

Chapter One Hundred & Forty-Three | Fourth World

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Most were more willing to believe the words coming from an optimist, than a pessimist like Finch. Especially when they were all showing vivid signs of exhaustion. But in the end, their words meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. As it was Fyre's word that was the law. And as someone who had spent the past umpteen hours enduring the sound of Hawk's taunts, he would be a fool to discount Finch's worries.

His older and more experienced green eyes soaked in every twitch of an expression Hawk made. An unsettled feeling continued to fester over the length of time he spent around his nephew. He felt like a wolf with its heckles up, watching and waiting. And witnessing how calm Hawk continued to be, Fyre made an easy decision.

"We need to stay alert." He regarded every person standing around. Deliberately overlooking the crestfallen expressions on some faces. The old burn on the side of his face ached. "But we should also use this time to recover our injured and tend to their wounds." His gaze landed on Finch as he finished speaking, to which he was responded with a nod.

Receiving their orders, everyone got to work. They travelled as a unit to reach the area they considered the heart of the makeshift clan. Seeing it littered with dead bodies and in an all around sorry state, those who possessed treasured memories of such a location found it hard to linger. But following Fyre's actions of closing one of the deceased's eyes and fixing his position to make it look like they were sleeping, those who were once reluctant could only swallow their previous misgivings and persevere.

When the man Fyre had nominated as the runner returned, slowly followed by those haggard-looking few and the injured who had to be practically dragged along, Finch had never been so happy to see them. He would do anything if it meant he could stop treating the dead and instead aid the living. But his obscure excitement was short lived when the flocks of people started to take notice of Hawk, who still appeared quite content as he never strayed too far from the young healer's side.

Expressions contorted, even the really injured perked up to get a piece of their enemy's leader. Which was swiftly dashed by Fyre, who both reassured them that Hawk would no longer threaten them and warned them to remain vigilant. It made the individuals who had to have Finch look over their wounds, feel deeply unsettled as they sat under the watchful gaze of a pair of silver eyes that threatened to slit their throats if they said more than they had to.

"—that's fine, I can apply it myself." Yet another patient reassured Finch as he intended to wrap a wound in a particular combination of leaves.

"Don't be silly, your injury is at an obscure angle, there's no way you could wrap it well."

Still the man shook his head, smiling gratefully at Finch. "Thank you for all you have done for me." He ignored the healer's words completely and pushed himself to his feet, scurrying away from where they had been seated in a protected area immediately out of sight of where everyone else was working.

Fyre wanted his nephew out of sight, as he continued to aggravate those who had fought with everything they had to defend their home, but knowing that he was stuck like an insect to Finch's side, he couldn't be sent too far away. Nor was anyone willing to expose the underground tunnels to the enemy, even if it was just one man with an arrow embedded in his side.

Finch tried not to make it painfully obvious that Hawk was bothering him, but he couldn't resist turning his head to face him. His gaze automatically sharpened as he took in the sight of the handsome man laid on his side promiscuously. He had made himself a bundle of furs from the ones he was previously wearing, and tucked them under his body to help ease the pressure off his injury.