Chapter 269: The Mad Wolf and the Gentle Tempter
Evaline:
Draven still wouldn't look at me.
No matter how I shifted, moved, or leaned closer, he kept his gaze fixed stubbornly away, as if the walls of my room were suddenly more fascinating than me. My patience was thinning, my heart thumping with worry and guilt, but his coldness was sharper than any blade.
I glanced over my shoulder at Oscar, who had made himself far too comfortable. He was sitting on my bed like he owned the place, his arms folded and lips curved in that infuriating smirk that said he was enjoying every second of this. His legs were crossed, his back leaning lazily against my pillows as if he had settled down to watch a private show.
One look at him and I knew. No help. No support. No rescue. He was content to let me drown in Draven's sulking storm.
Turning back to Draven, I reached out and caught his arm. I gave it a small swing, almost childlike, tugging gently as I tilted my face up at him with the most guilty, pitiful look I could muster. "Draven…" my voice came out soft, pleading. "Why are you still mad? I already explained everything."
Finally... finally... his intense eyes flickered down to me. His jaw was clenched, but his voice was steady when he said, "I'm not mad anymore."
Relief bloomed in my chest, but it shattered the next instant when his next words cut through the air.
"But I'm jealous, Eva. More jealous than I have ever been in my entire life."
Before I could even form a response, his hand shot up, cupping the back of my head with sudden, fierce possession. And then... he kissed me.
Not just any kiss. A consuming, punishing, hungry kiss that stole the breath from my lungs and left my thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. His lips crashed against mine, deep and forceful, and I was too stunned to do anything but drown in it. My knees weakened instantly, my hands trembling where they were clutching his arms, not sure if I should push him back or hold on tighter.
By the time he finally pulled away, I was gasping. He was still glaring at me, still not over his mood, his chest rising and falling quickly. His expression was fierce, but his eyes - oh, his eyes - were looking like those of a furious, wounded, jealous wolf.
I blinked, gathering myself, until the shock ebbed enough for me to breathe again. My heart was still racing, but I raised my arms slowly, looping them around his neck and pulling him down toward me again. My voice was quiet but firm.
"Rowan is my brother, Draven," I whispered against his lips. "But you… you are my mate."
And before he could argue, before he could throw any more doubts or accusations, I kissed him.
This time, I took the lead.
I pressed my lips against his with determination, pouring all my guilt, my reassurance, my stubborn love into that kiss. His sharp inhale vibrated against my mouth, and his grip on me faltered just long enough for me to deepen it. My hands slid up into his hair, tangling through the soft strands as I tilted my head to fit perfectly against him. The taste of him, the warmth, the intensity... it all hit me at once.
He groaned low in his throat, and the sound sent shivers down my spine. His arms tightened around me like steel bands, dragging me closer until there was absolutely no space left between us. The kiss grew hotter, deeper, more desperate, our bond tugging at both of us, filling the room with that almost electric need.
Every brush of our lips, every clash, every stolen breath left me dizzy. I wanted more. I wanted all of him. My heart felt like it was on fire.
But just when the kiss was about to tip into something we couldn't pull back from, Draven tore himself away. His lips were swollen, his breath uneven, his eyes dark and wild.
"Not that easy, Eva," he growled, his voice thick with lingering hunger but edged with frustration. "You don't get to make up for your mistakes this quickly."
I blinked, stunned. "What do you mean?"
His smirk was dangerous, almost wicked. "You need punishment."
My eyes widened. "Punishment?"
"Yes." His gaze burned into mine. "Meet me and Oscar at my house after work on Saturday. And... be ready." He leaned down, his lips brushing mine once more. "Because you are not getting away that easily."
My mind was still reeling when he kissed me again, a quick, fierce press of his mouth against mine that made my knees buckle once more. Then, without another word, he pulled back.
"Get some sleep, Love," he said quietly, though his voice still carried that dangerous edge.
And with that, he walked toward the balcony.
I stood frozen, staring at him as he stepped out into the night air, the cold wind rushing in through the crack of the door. Instinct had me moving, about to follow him into the freezing night... but before I could, a hand caught mine.
Oscar.
He tugged me back gently but firmly, stopping me. Then, without a word, he wrapped his coat around me from behind, shielding me from the icy air that had seeped into the room.
The warmth of his body, the scent of him, the unexpected tenderness made my chest ache in a completely different way.
I turned in his arms, facing him. His smirk was gone, replaced with a softness I hadn't seen the entire night today.
"Don't worry," he murmured. "It's late. You should rest." His hand brushed a loose strand of hair behind my ear with surprising care. "But you should better be ready to deal with a jealous Draven."
I groaned, leaning my forehead against his chest in frustration. "Don't tease me."
His chuckle vibrated through me, warm and teasing, and when I looked up again, he was already leaning down.
His lips brushed mine in a kiss so different from Draven's that it nearly broke me. Where Draven's had been all fire and demand, Oscar's was water - gentle, steady, coaxing. His kiss was lingering, soft but deep, unhurried, like he wanted me to feel every second of it.
My toes curled at the sweetness of it, my body melting under the tenderness he poured into me. His hand was resting lightly on my waist, not pushing, not demanding, just anchoring me as his lips moved against mine in a slow rhythm that made the world fall away.
When he finally pulled back, my lips were tingling, my heart still racing, but in an entirely different way than before.
He smiled, brushing his thumb lightly across my lower lip. "Get some sleep. Tomorrow, come find me, with Rowan, after your classes."
And just like that, he stepped back, gave me one last lingering look, and left.
I stood there in the middle of my room, Draven's fire still burning on my lips, Oscar's sweetness still clinging to me, my heart caught between the two storms.
And I couldn't help but wonder - how in the world was I going to survive them both?