Chapter 25 Draven #3
“Then you’re an idiot,” I reply evenly. “Feel free to leave.”
My voice stays dry and controlled. He’s not going to get what he wants from me.
When the choice is him or Maeve, he’ll never get the win.
“I’ve got better things to do tonight than listen to you cry about how my—how a woman bested you.”
I hope he doesn’t catch the slip up, and based on the furrowing of his brows, he hasn’t. I wasn’t going to call her my assistant or my employee.
I was going to claim the truth—claim her as my mate—to him. For the first time ever.
Everyone suspects, but I won’t admit it.
Not to him, not to anyone.
Maeve’s rejection of my bear—of me—was one of the few choices she has been permitted to make.
And I won’t dishonour it by forcing her into a truth she hasn’t claimed.
Torin bares his teeth in a humourless smile. “You know I can’t do that. But, seriously, how much do you trust her?”
He gestures vaguely, irritation bleeding into his voice.
“She’s made herself a professional reputation on the compound, and not a flattering one. You want me to hand over sensitive intelligence to someone who thinks she’s untouchable? To someone who can’t hold a job down for longer than a few months? No. I’m not doing it.”
He eyes me like I’m going to attack him. Like he should be scared.
The scariest move is the one I don’t make. I remain still.
“Then keep it to yourself and watch this conspiracy eat you alive,” I reply evenly. “Or let her work. Your choice. I don’t give a fuck.”
“You could do it,” he insists. The desperation pours off him now, thick enough to sour the air.
I exhale slowly. Reminding my ursarix that Torin is our friend.
My bear cares very little.
Mate trumps friend.
“I could puzzle out fragments,” I admit. “But Maeve is the only one I trust to get it right before the Tribunal buries this beyond recovery.”
Torin slams a folder onto my coffee table. I don’t even look at it.
I don’t know what’s inside, but I don’t particularly care. Not right now. Not after the night I’ve had.
I know he’s done it to force a reaction from me, but I’m not going to let Torin’s dramatics stop this.
He and Maeve will need to work together. I don’t have the time—or the patience—to untangle whatever mess he’s landed himself in.
Or stolen. Let’s be realistic.
“You expect me to sit in a room with her,” Torin snarls, “and let her paw through this, while I… what? Pretend she’s useful?”
“You came to me for help, Torin. Help doesn’t always look the way you want it.”
For a long moment, Torin just stands there, jaw tight, blood humming with fury. His pantheral prowls under his skin, restless at the idea of being tethered to her.
To the woman who’d already earned his hatred without lifting a finger.
Finally, he grabs the folder from the coffee table and shoves it under his arm.
“Fine,” he snaps. “I’ll give her a chance. But if she fucks this up—”
“She won’t,” I cut in.
Torin’s eyes flash. “Then she’d better prove it. Because the second she slips, she’s done.”
I rise, a head taller than him, and, in this instance, he can feel it.
“No, Torin. The second you decide she’s slipped—you are,” I snarl, leaning in just enough for the threat to land. “Now, get the fuck out of my flat so I can go handle the other fuckers who decided to take liberties with her tonight.”
Torin’s jaw drops. “What the hell are you talking about?”
He’s spent so long convincing himself he hates her that he hasn’t noticed the truth—that the idea of her being hurt twists something ugly in his gut.
“If you hadn’t stormed in here crying about your shitty little scrawls,” I say coldly, “I’d already have told you. Instead, four men just climbed higher on my priority list than you, old friend.”
I step back, dismissing him.
“If you want to keep that title, Torin—you’d do well to apologise to her.”
Torin’s eyes narrow, but he nods jerkily and leaves. He’s lucky, because I don’t think I could’ve asked again.
Well, I suppose I could have. I just wouldn’t have.
I grab my phone and call the devil. Out of all of them, he’s the only one I trust with this.
Lucifer answers on the second ring. “What’s up, Dravvy?”
Unfortunately, I can only growl in response.
“Come on, big bear—”
I growl louder, and he groans.
“Oh, shit. Maeve called you that once right? Damn it. She stole a good one.”
Interesting that despite never meeting my ursarix in person, he can speak bear. The background noise fades as he moves somewhere quieter.
“What happened?” he asks, all humour gone. “Why are you this angry?”
“Maeve’s at home,” I say, trying to hold in my rage. “There were two fucks at the club. Called her a bitch.”
They said she was twisted.
Claimed that they were going to offer her a “good time.”
And worse.
My jaw locks, and I know if I share everything, he’ll not wait for me. He’ll take matters into his own hands.
“Who?” he demands.
“I don’t know yet,” I reply. “But I will.”
“I’ve got it, Draven,” Lucifer says. He’s already there—already murderous. “I’ll handle it.”
“No,” I snap. “We do this together.”
He hisses but agrees. “I’ll ruin them.”
“We will,” I correct. “But first—they’re owed a beating.” I pause. “I need you.”
“For what?”
“To stop me from going too far.”
Lucifer laughs, dark and pleased. My ursarix hums in approval.
Oh, yes. No matter what happens with Maeve, my bear has claimed Lucifer for our sloth.
Psycho.
“Oh, trust me, Draven, there’s nothing short of leaving them alive that would be too far.”
“I don’t want them dead,” I say. “Maeve wants them miserable.”
He pauses, considering my words.
“Then miserable it is.”
Lucifer sighs wistfully.
“Give me ten. I’ll pick you up from the club—”
“I’m at the flats,” I interrupt. “Meet me at my place. I’ll get changed.”
“Perfect. Does your contract come with an I-can-harm-anyone-I-want clause?”
“No.”
He grumbles under his breath about Atticus ruining our fun.
“What?”
“Neither does mine. He refused to put it in,” Lucifer says. “So, let’s not get caught with our little quest, all right? He gets touchy.”
“I’ll handle the lion if needed,” I say. “Because if I don’t deal with this, my ursarix will the moment I let go.”
They need handling. Tonight.
“Then, that’s what we’ll do. See you soon. Then, the hunt is on.”
The line goes dead.
I don’t move for a moment. Don’t breathe. And then, I lick my lips.
My ursarix rises beneath my skin, heavy and certain.
Somewhere out there, four men are still walking around under the mistaken belief that tonight is over.
It isn’t.
And it won’t be for them.
I turn towards my bedroom, already stripping off my jacket.
Maeve wants them miserable.
And I will never fail to deliver to her what she needs.