Page 18 of Draven

Vandalizing my car—it was a cruel and cowardly act. I clenched my fists, my knuckles turning white with the force of my anger.

My inner wolf growled inside me, equally pissed.

Draven must have sensed my turmoil because he placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder, grounding me with his touch.

I looked up at him, meeting his gaze, and was taken aback by the intensity burning in his golden eyes.

It was a rage so palpable, so raw, that it sent shivers down my spine.

His aura, usually calm and composed, now pulsed out with unbridled fury, crackling with energy that seemed barely contained.

I remembered his confession about his struggles with control. That was the reason he joined a pack.

Taking a step back, I tried to remain calm, reminding myself that adding fuel to the fire would only escalate the situation further.

With a deep breath, I forced myself to calm down. I couldn't let Justin and his friends get to me.

I would deal with this, but first, I had to calm Draven down. I reached for his hands.

"Draven," I said softly. "It’s okay--"

"This is not okay," Draven interjected. "Those humans deserve to burn."

The vehemence in his voice made me pause, made me a little wary of him.

All of a sudden, I wondered if I was too foolish, too naive earlier. What did I really know about shifters with control issues?

Was I way over my head with Draven?

"Don't give up on him, on our mate," my wolf whispered.

I jolted at those words. Mate. Such a frightening word. Draven gripped my shoulders, and I realized I was trembling.

Draven tightened his grip on my shoulders and I felt the tremors coursing through my body slowly begin to subside.

His touch, though firm, carried an unmistakable gentleness and my doubts about him faded a little.

"I'm sorry," Draven said, his voice softer now, tinged with a hint of guilt.

His golden eyes were filled with obvious regret and remorse.

Slowly, his grip loosened, his hands falling away from my shoulders as he took a step back, giving me space.

I watched as Draven visibly composed himself, his shoulders relaxing, the tension in his jaw easing.

It was as though he was pulling himself back from the brink, reining in the violent instincts that had threatened to overwhelm him.

Taking a deep breath, Draven closed his eyes briefly before meeting my gaze once more.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he said. "I let my anger get the best of me."

"It's okay," I reassured him, reaching out to gently touch his arm. "We all have moments when our emotions get the better of us."

Draven nodded, and he blew out a breath.

"I'll try to do better,” he said.

I smiled back, relieved to see him regain his composure.