SEVENTY-SIX

A knocking on the door brought our attention to it. Vadirr and Duron pushed their way in, with Duron first observing the dent in Draven’s wall. He looked at Draven questioningly before his eyes darted to me and widened in surprise.

“Why is Heather still alive?” Vadirr asked first, his brows creasing together. I turned to Draven and quirked a brow too, folding my arms beneath my bosom.

Draven didn’t respond. He moved to sit behind his desk and leaned back in the chair, “I’ll take care of her,” he simply said “Come,” He spread his left arm in my direction.

“What?” I stared at him, my cheeks turning slightly pink. I was mad at this man, my beast hated the fact that he still carried some of Heather’s scent, but when he looked at me like that, it was hard not to notice how handsome he was.

“Come, dear mate, sit with me,” he pated his laps lazily and the redness on my cheeks deepened. “Don’t let me come get you myself dear mate,” he said sternly. I obeyed reluctantly, but only because I