Page 66 of Draven

Yet, there was an aura of authority around him that made me suppress a shudder. This was one guy I didn't want to mess with.

"I'm here and I'm fine, Zane," came a grumpy voice.

Doyle emerged from the trailer, the left sleeve of the sweater I loaned him that belonged to Tom fluttering in the wind.

Zane frowned, studying him intently. "You look better than I imagined," he remarked.

"Lucinda, Tobias' friend and a white witch, sorted me out," Doyle said.

Zane narrowed his eyes. "You know how I feel about witches,” he said, tone icy.

"Lucinda practices white magic, not black," I pointed out, hoping to defuse the tension.

Zane let out a breath, and I took a hesitant step back. My wolf warned me it wasn't wise to provoke him.

"Don't take it too hard, Tobias. Zane despises all witches," Doyle informed me, his tone matter-of-fact.

"I was wondering what the commotion was all about. Here I was, hoping to enjoy my mate's pancakes," Draven said, joining us outside.

He immediately walked up to me, sliding a possessive arm over my shoulders.

I squeaked when he tugged me close, but I didn't mind his good morning kiss.

"Huh. I must've been more out of it than I thought last night, because I didn't hear anything," Doyle remarked. "Congrats, by the way."

"Um, yeah. Thank you," I said, flushing under their combined attention.

All three dragon shifters were now looking at me with interest.

"W-why don't I set up the folding chairs and table outside? There's enough breakfast to go around, and you guys... can have your talk out here," I suggested, eager to be elsewhere for the moment.

Draven raised his eyebrows but pulled his arm back when I hurried back inside the trailer.

"I'll help you with the chairs and table," he called after me.

To my relief, he soon followed me into the kitchen.

"Hey," Draven said, searching my eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm..." I hesitated, gathering my thoughts. "I thought we would have a quiet morning, have breakfast, take it slow, you know? I didn't expect Zane to turn up."

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

DRAVEN

Tobias appearedon the verge of a panic attack, and I couldn't blame him.

Zane's unexpected visit had thrown a wrench into our plans for a peaceful morning.

I could see the anxiety etched on his face, the tension in his shoulders.

Without a second thought, I knew Tobias could use a hug. I stepped closer to him, wrapping my arms around him in a comforting embrace.

I could feel the tension slowly melting away as he leaned into me, seeking solace in the warmth of our embrace.

I held him close, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head, silently reassuring him that everything would be alright.

“So chairs and table?” I asked him.