Chapter 15 Draven
DRAVEN
“You’re quiet,” Torin says. He’s not concerned about me, but there is a hint of confusion in his words.
Nosy cunt.
The ursarix is unsettled. He has been ever since yesterday morning when Maeve was violated in her own home.
The distance from her hasn’t helped. Neither have the reports from everyone else detailing how much she’s struggling.
She hasn’t eaten since Sunday evening. She’s barely drunk anything that isn’t tea, and the idiot men around her clearly don’t realise that tea is a diuretic, not a miracle cure. It dehydrates her more than it helps.
My mate is running on panic and stubbornness. No fuel. No rest.
And to a bear shifter, that’s not fucking okay.
My beautiful angel has nobody looking out for her properly. Nobody caring for her needs the way she deserves.
I wish I was good enough to step into that role. To take the weight of the world from her shoulders and just… provide.
It’s all I want to do for the rest of my life.
Making sure she eats. Making sure she drinks. Making sure anyone who upsets her gets wiped off the face of the Earth. Making sure she can relax for more than five fucking minutes without waiting for the next disaster to hit.
If she’d hand over her panic, if she’d tell me every concern, every fear… I’d handle it.
That’s what I was made to do.
My ursarix whines, and I roll my eyes. Fine.
It’s what we were made to do.
Unfortunately, I’m just not good enough for her. Not enough to be trusted with her heart. With her mind.
With her.
The car rolls to a stop outside Maeve’s home, and I’m very fucking grateful that Adrian has insisted Torin stick to Maeve’s side until she leaves.
Whenever I come to the compound, I’m usually with Torin anyway, so it’s not going to be a surprise to have me here now.
I get to spend all of the time with my mate, and nobody will look twice.
“She’s got a very large home,” Torin says, staring at the house like it’s impressive.
Sure, from an objective point of view, it is. But from Maeve’s mate, it’s actually hideous.
It doesn’t feel very her.
I know she’s rich—hell, she makes millionaires look poor—but this house lacks any of her authenticity.
It’s fucking huge. Far too extravagant, all glossy perfection, but, even on the outside, it feels cold.
Wrong.
Like it was built for a version of her that Adrian wishes she was, not the version that currently exists.
Torin takes his time parking and shutting the car off, and it’s pissing my ursarix off how slow he’s being. Doesn’t he understand how desperate we are for our mate?
How much we need to be near her? I don’t care how pathetic it makes me. I just need to have her in my sight.
Maeve won’t ever care for me. She won’t ever be able to love me. That’s fine. I’ve accepted this.
Or I’m trying to.
I’m going to live a lifetime on the outside, never being more than her boss. I’ll cope. I’d rather that than spending forever without her.
“Let’s get this over with,” he mutters.
I growl low in my throat, the sound more ursarix than man, and he turns with a brow raised.
“Are you going to share the issue, Drav, or are you going to keep up with the grunts and the growls?”
My ursarix pushes forward and growls again in answer, and Torin laughs as if I’m telling a joke.
The only joke here is him.
I shove down the urge to hurt him and get out of the car instead. I want to see my mate.
I need to see her.
“Growls it is,” he says, amused. “Your mate is fine, Draven. The rest of the drama squad have her.”
“You know,” I say, rounding the bonnet, “for a man who’s so insistent on being alone, you’re very desperate to be around my mate.”
Now he’s the one who growls.
We walk to the house, and Torin doesn’t bother knocking before letting himself inside.
Rude cunt.
This is not his house. It is hers. My mate’s.
Her home. Her safe place in an unsafe environment.
How fucking dare he breach it like it’s his right.
She barely tolerates him. I don’t think they’ve got a mate bond, but even if they did, neither of them would share that information with me.
Not yet, anyway.
Maeve wouldn’t recognise it for what it was, and Torin would keep it tucked under his smug bastard smile until the danger around her was resolved.
And knowing the political bastard for the cunning snake that he is, he’d probably leverage their connection for favour with Adrian in a heartbeat.
So, let’s hope they’re not mated because I don’t think he’d survive the rejection she’d force onto him for that betrayal.
Torin moves through the house like he belongs here, far too at ease in my mate’s space, and leads us through the rooms to a living room.
The closer we get to my angel, the more fucking unbearable my bear is being. He’s so pathetically obsessed with her that if she knew the depth of it, we wouldn’t survive that either.
“Finally,” Lucifer crows, grinning up at me.
He’s sitting on the floor near the coffee table. Odd, even for him.
Then again, the imp is certifiably fucking insane.
The twins sit on either side of the sofa directly opposite the entrance. The tension between the two of them is so thick I’m surprised they can breathe easily.
Maeve’s tucked into the armchair alone, and she gives me a small, tense smile as we enter.
Torin immediately claims the other sofa, not waiting for an invite to sit or an acknowledgement.
My beautiful angel sneers at him, and it makes me so fucking proud that she doesn’t fear him.
That doesn’t stop my ursarix, though. The beast bristles at the disrespect the cat is showing my mate.
Normally, that kind of behaviour is enough to lose someone their tongue, but I don’t comment on it.
Yet.
According to Lucifer and Hades, Torin an attitude problem and is extremely disrespectful towards my mate.
He denied it when I confronted him, but he’s already burning through his chances.
If he can’t behave, then he’ll go a round with my ursarix.
The beast has far too much pent-up anger to lose.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Maeve says tentatively.
I give her a smile, the action still foreign enough to pull at muscles I never use.
“How are you feeling? Did you eat anything when at the viper’s nest?” I ask, trying not to sound too pitiable.
I can’t settle the bear, though, without knowing that her needs are met.
Torin mimes retching before pulling his laptop out of his briefcase. Maeve doesn’t notice, but I mark another tally on my mental chart.
He’s got a reckoning coming.
She shrugs, looking down at her hands briefly before meeting my eyes again. “I’m okay. Did you eat anything?”
I smirk. “Do you really think I’d give them a chance to poison me?”
I ate fucking plenty. I’m not turning down free food. But the retort makes my pretty angel giggle, and that’s worth it to me.
Torin gives me a dirty look but keeps his mouth shut.
Lucky choice.
I’d hate to be responsible for him needing his jaw wired shut permanently.
Not.
“And that’s the right attitude, Daddy,” Lucifer taunts, waggling his brows at me.
The nickname doesn’t bother me as much as it used to.
Liar, my ursarix grumbles.
“I’m assuming the council spy is here to stay?” Maeve asks, jerking her head towards Torin.
As if any of us are confused as to who she meant.
“Yes,” I say.
She scrunches her nose, delicate and annoyed, but she doesn’t argue. Far too precious.
“And can the pussy cat be trusted?” Lucifer asks, glaring at Torin like he’d love an excuse.
“He can,” I say firmly. “Torin’s a vault. Aren’t you, T?”
The cat nods once, wisely not looking at me. If he did, he’d see the promise of death in my eyes.
As long as we’re not talking about things he can leverage, we’re good. If our conversation devolves into politics… well, I’ll keep watch.
“Your petty drama means nothing to me. I have a job to do, and that is all.”
Bullshit artist.
“Perfect,” Julian says, clapping his hands together.
He’s such a fucking child.
“Bloody hell, did we really need to invite Captain Fucking Sunshine into the house?” Hades grumbles, and Maeve giggles again.
I fucking love hearing her laugh. She’s had far too much suffering.
There’s been nothing to be happy about lately, so if the quips and insults do it for her, we’ll give her plenty.
Well, Luc, Hades, and I will. The other two probably don’t have a good enough grasp of Maeve’s humour just yet and have a better chance of fucking it up.
“What did you want to talk about, then, Jules?” Lucifer asks, leaning back against the wall and stretching his legs out like he owns the room.
“I think we all need to get on the same page. We’ve got so much information, and it’s hard to know who knows what,” Julian says, eyeing all of us. “If we’re going to work together—”
“Who said we wanted to work together?” Maeve asks, raising a brow. “If I’m being perfectly honest, the only one of you I can trust right now is Draven.”
My ursarix’s smugness surges through our bond like a punch of heat, but I lock my expression down. Can’t let the others see how much our pretty mate affects me.
She trusts me.
I don’t understand what I’ve done to deserve such a precious gift.
But I’ll guard it with my life.
“Wait, what?” Lucifer asks, and, for once, there’s no teasing in his voice. “I thought—”
“Does Hel ring any bells?” Maeve’s tone is full of snark, and we all know she’s doing that to cover up her hurt.
“Oh, grow up, maelstrom. She’s a mated woman and his aunt. You can’t hold his affection against him,” Torin says without looking up from his laptop.
I clench my fists, flinching as my nails shift into claws. Pain flashes as I break skin, the blood pooling in my palm.
Maeve’s eyes dart to me, worried and confused, but I deliberately avoid her gaze.
I can’t let her know how furious I am. I won’t add to her anxiety.
I can use the pain to help calm myself down. It stops me from reaching over and snapping his laptop in half.
Stops me from using half of it to cave his fat fucking nose into his thick fucking skull.