Page 59 of Draven

"I've done all I could for your friend," she said to Draven.

Draven rose to his feet. "Thank you, Lucinda," he said sincerely.

"It was for Tobias," she replied, before turning to me. "Tobias, you should take a few days off work. I can manage on my own.”

I nodded, feeling touched by her consideration. "Thanks. I'll do that," I replied, offering her a grateful smile.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

DRAVEN/ TOBIAS

DRAVEN

Lying on Tobias' living room sofa, Doyle looked worse than I anticipated. His skin was pale, sweat beading on his forehead, and his breathing was labored.

It was clear he was in a bad state.

"How do I look?" Doyle croaked out, opening his eyes to meet mine.

"Awful," I responded bluntly, unable to sugarcoat the truth.

Doyle let out a dry chuckle. "You don't pull any punches, huh?" he muttered, then winced as a bout of coughing racked his body.

Alarmed by the sight of blood, I reached for the nearby box of tissues and offered it to him. Doyle waved it away with a weak gesture.

"I'll recover, just not as soon as I'd like," he grumbled. "Black witches can really do a number even on our kind."

"Yeah," I agreed, despite Tobias' bandaging and care, the cuts left by Belladonna's spell still throbbed.

There was also a faint, dull but constant ache from the mark on my chest.

"When Zane invited you to join our clan, I didn't think much of you," Doyle admitted, his voice hoarse.

He let out a soft laugh, which ended in another fit of coughing.

He wiped the blood from his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt in irritation before continuing, "I didn't think you could get us both out of that situation, but you did. I underestimated you."

That was high praise coming from Doyle.

"I got out of there by the skin of my teeth," I told him honestly, then added, "And thanks to this."

I pulled out the moonstone pendant Darcy had given me. Doyle leaned forward, studying the pendant intently before letting it go.

"One of your white witch friends gave you that?" he asked.

"They're more of Tobias' friends than mine," I admitted. "Belladonna tried to reactivate the binding curse she had on me, but it failed."

"The moonstone diluted her magic, preventing it from reaching you," Doyle said with a nod.

I was about to ask him how he knew that when I remembered something interesting Belladonna had said at the mausoleum and the revelation that Doyle was married to a witch magic user.

"What happened," I asked softly, "to the witch you were married to?"

"Wizard," Doyle corrected.

His gaze looked distant, as if he were seeing something I couldn't, maybe a past he had buried.

There was pain in his eyes, which I hadn't expected to see. Doyle was a master at hiding his emotions.