DRAVEN'S POV.
I stood outside her door long after the silence settled. Her words still burned in my skull, 'Then what am I to you?' soft but sharp enough to cut through the stone walls of my chest. I could still hear the tremor in her voice, the way she looked at me like she was trying to understand something I didn't have an answer for.
What was she to me? A mistake, maybe. A burden, definitely. But beneath all that, something else I didn't want to name.
The firelight from her room spilled under the crack of the door, flickering gold against the marble floor. Her heartbeat was faint but steady; I could hear it if I focused, slow, fragile, human. And yet, for some damn reason, it steadied something wild inside me. That was dangerous. More dangerous than the curse itself.
"Draven."
