"Wait."
I immediately sat up.
Draven looked up from the book.
His expression already carried the look of a man regretting agreeing to this story.
I pointed at him.
"Has it been long ago?"
A beat passed.
Then Draven scoffed.
The sound was almost offended.
"Scary cub."
His gaze shifted toward me.
"It's been years ago."
Years.
Not decades.
Not centuries.
Years.
Something about that made the story feel much more real.
Much closer.
Draven leaned back against the headboard.
"Let's say it happened before most of your ancestors were born."
I blinked.
Then frowned.
"That's impossible."
"Details."
His hand waved lazily.
"Regardless, they won't be coming for you tonight."
I laughed.
The heaviness lingering in my chest eased slightly.
"Even if they do."
I smiled.
"I have a big, bad husband to protect me."
The room fell quiet.
Draven's eyes settled on mine.
Then slowly—
dangerously—
one corner of his mouth lifted.
