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Taking the next step
I collapsed to my knees, staring at my father's dead body lying on his throne. Draven was standing next to me. He leaned down and put his hand on my shoulder.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
"I… I don't know…" I muttered, "Are you?"
I felt all sorts of emotions, some of which I was unable to name, and I could understand if Draven felt frustrated because, in the end, he couldn't avenge his father with his own hands. When I lifted my eyes to meet his, I saw anger and relief mixed in his expression.
"Someone must have hated him even more than I did." He stretched his lips into a thin line.
"Randall D'Apolito ruined a lot of lives. He finally pissed off someone powerful enough to kill him." I shrugged, trying to act as if looking at my father's corpse meant nothing to me.
"At least he can't hurt you anymore." Draven gave me a warm smile and reached out his hand to help me stand.
I took his hand, pushing away my uneasiness and
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