305 Something Lighter


    305 Something Lighter


    <i>Draven</i>. 1


    “You won’t,” Rhovan replied.


    “I don’t believe that.”


    I drew in a breath, my voice rough as I admitted, “I <i>can’t </i><i>let </i>that <i>happen </i>until I <i>am </i>certain I won’t harm her.<i>” </i>


    Rhovan was silent for a long moment. Then his tone softened, steady and confident. “You don’t have to <i>be </i>


    afraid. That will not happen again. Not now.”


    My brows furrowed, my pulse still racing.


    “Now that your love for <i>her </i><i>has </i><i>been </i><i>established</i><i>,</i><i>” </i>he continued, “<i>now </i><i>that </i><i>your </i><i>bond </i><i>has </i>grown, and the storm


    <i>has </i>passed, it is <i>only </i><i>right </i><i>you </i><i>mark </i><i>her</i><i>. </i><i>And </i><i>let </i><i>her </i><i>mark </i><i>you</i><i>.</i><i>” </i>


    My chest tightened as Meredith stirred against me once more, her breath hot on my skin, the taste of her


    words still lingering from earlier: <i>You </i><i>smell </i><i>nice</i>… <i>maybe </i><i>you </i><i>taste </i><i>nice </i>too.


    I shut my eyes briefly, fighting the pull.


    Finally, I exhaled a long, slow breath. “Not <i>like </i><i>this</i><i>. </i><i>She’s </i><i>drunk</i>, <i>and </i><i>not </i><i>in </i><i>her </i><i>right </i><i>senses</i>, Rhovan. I will think


    <i>about </i>it <i>another </i><i>time</i>.”


    Rhovan didn’t argue, though I felt his approval in the silence.


    Meredith’s breath settled slightly against my neck, though she still murmured incoherently, lips brushing my


    skin.


    I tightened my hold and steadied her. Then, deciding that this ce wasn’t where she needed to be, I shifted


    carefully, sliding one arm under her knees.


    In one smooth motion, I lifted her against my chest. She stirred faintly, her head nestling into the hollow of


    my shoulder, but she didn’t wake fully.


    So, I stepped out of my study and let my strides carry me down the hall, and then towards the stairs, steady


    and unhurried.


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    Anyone who saw us would know better than to ask questions.


    Finally arriving at my chambers, I pushed the door open with my shoulder and stepped inside. The familiar


    heat of the room wrapped around us immediately.


    I lowered her onto the bed with care, her silver hair fanning across the pillows. For a moment, I simply stood


    there, looking down at her.


    This was a woman who had so much strength in her, yet this morning, she was undone by the weight of her


    past.


    Letting out a sigh, I pulled the covers over her, tucking them gently around her shoulders. Her hand shifted


    instinctively, searching. I caught it, held it for a moment, then set it softly back against the sheets.


    She didn’t stir anymore.


    Leaning down, I pressed a slow kiss to her forehead, breathing in her scent. “Sleep,” I whispered, my voice


    barely a rasp. “You are safe here.”


    <b><i>~</i></b><b><i>**</i></b><b><i>Meredith</i></b>**~


    When I blinked awake, the first thing I saw was the ceiling.


    A soft groan escaped my lips as I gently pushed myself up. My head throbbed, not unbearable but enough to


    remind me that something had gone wrong earlier.


    Then it dawned on me that this was Draven’s bedroom.


    My heart skipped. ‘How… <i>how </i><i>did </i><i>I </i><i>end </i><i>up </i>


    <i>here</i>?‘


    Fragments of memory surged back, like shards of broken ss snapping into ce.


    My hand clutching a ss. The sweet creaminess on my tongue. The warmth of Draven’s embrace. His


    unwavering gaze. His silence as I poured out my heart, confessions I had kept locked away for years, spilling


    one after another.


    And then… my lips on his neck.


    Heat surged through me, mortification tightening my chest. “Oh gods,” I groaned, covering my face with both


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    305 Something Lighter


    hands. “Why would I do that?”


    I let my palms fall away, muttering under my breath, “Stupid drink. Who makes something so sweet that


    dangerous?”


    Another groan escaped, this one partly of self–pity, partly of resignation.


    That was when I felt Valmora stir.


    “How <i>are </i><i>you</i>?” Valmora’s voice brushed softly through my mind, gentle and cautious, as if she didn’t want to


    startle me.


    I paused, then took a moment to honestly check myself inwardly. My chest, usually heavy after dredging up


    old wounds, sensed strangely light. My shoulders didn’t ache with tension. My thoughts weren’t swirling like


    a storm.


    “I feel… lighter,” I whispered, almost surprised to hear my own voice admit it.


    Valmora sighed with relief within me. “<i>Good</i><i>. </i><i>That’s </i><i>all </i><i>that </i><i>matters</i>.”


    I closed my eyes briefly. She was right. For the first time in years, I had ripped open every painful scar, let


    them bleed, and instead of festering, something in me sensed healed.


    My mind drifted to Mabel, to her furious face, to her words that had cut me like des. But instead of the


    usual ache or anger, I sensed only silence.


    There was no trace of bitterness or resentment. Just… release.


    I exhaled slowly. Maybe Draven hadn’t realized it, but listening to me–really listening–had done something I


    never thought possible.


    After a few moments of inward reflection, the door clicked open, and my head jerked towards it.


    Draven stepped in, his strides calm and steady, carrying a small tray with a ss of water and a vial I didn’t


    recognize.


    His gaze found mine immediately, sharp as ever, but this time softer at the edges.


    “You are awake,” he said, his voice low but firm, as though stating a fact he was relieved about.


    I quickly sat up straighter, though my head protested with a dull throb. He noticed–of course, he noticed-


    305 Something Lighter


    and crossed the room in long strides, setting the tray on the nightstand.


    “This will help with the headache,” he said, as he poured a few drops from the vial into the water before


    handing it to me. His hand lingered just long enough to steady mine as I took it.


    I muttered a quiet ‘thank you‘ before sipping. The bitterness of the tonic shed with the sweetness <b>I </b>still


    remembered from earlier, and I wrinkled my nose.


    Draven’s lips curled slightly, barely noticeable, but I caught it. “I saw that you drank half a bottle of something


    meant to be sipped slowly. Why?”


    Instantly, heat crept up my neck. “It was sweet,” I muttered defensively, lowering the ss. “Too sweet. I


    didn’t even realize-”


    “-that


    you were drinking alcohol?” His brow arched.


    I red at him half–heartedly. “You should havebelled it properly. Who keeps something that tastes like


    dessert but works like poison?”


    That earned me a soft chuckle. He leaned back slightly, folding his arms across his chest in that maddeningly


    “Yes,” I said firmly, though my lips betrayed me by twitching. “Entirely your fault. You shouldn’t keep a drink


    like that in in sight.”


    He tilted his head, watching me with that quiet intensity that always made me feel as if he was reading


    beneath my words.


    Then, deliberately, his tone softened into teasing. “Next time, should I lock the cab? Or assign a guard to


    it?”


    “Very funny.” I almost rolled my eyes, recalling how he had given me a little bit to drink yesterday morning.


    But deep down, I understood why Draven was teasing me now. He didn’t want me to sit here drowning in


    awkwardness over everything I had told him earlier.


    He was giving me something lighter to hold onto instead.


    And for that, I silently thanked him.