Page 90 of Heir

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Omaera

We arrived back at the apartment, and I scuttled off to my bedroom so Zandren and Maxar could give Drak the capsule. Then they waited the appropriate thirty minutes before Zandren knocked on my door. “I think it’s safe to come out now.”

I nodded and glanced at my phone. Gemma would be home soon.

Stepping into the living room, I glanced at Drak, who was still restrained and sitting on the barstool, wrapped up in flaming rope by the sliding glass door.

I still hadn’t had any coffee today and was seriously feeling the caffeine deprivation.

“Here,” Zandren said, wandering into the kitchen. “I just made you a fresh batch, since I know we keep pulling you away from your coffee.” He poured a healthy amount into a green and tan hand-thrown mug that said, “I’m not a bitch, I just don’t like you.” Smirking after reading it, he went to the fridge. “Oat milk, right?”

I nodded, all tingly with joy from the simple, yet wonderful, fact that someone was in my kitchen making me coffee. And that he knew I took oat milk. I’d only had coffee in front of him once. How did he remember?

He poured the perfect amount of creamy oat milk into the coffee, then handed me the mug with the handle out. I gripped it with both hands and leaned against the counter, letting the steam and incredible chocolatey scent of the dark roast fill my nostrils. “Thank you,” I said softly. “I really needed this.”

His smile was all kinds of youthful and sexy, reminding me more of a teddy bear than a ferocious grizzly. “I know.”

My gaze pivoted to Drak, whose nostrils no longer flared like an agitated bull’s. “How are you feeling over there, Fangs?”

His gaze was level, irritated, and arrogant. So, normal for him. “Better,” he said cooly. “Thank you for going to Fiddleman.”

“You’re welcome.”

Uncertainty creased his face for a moment. “I apologize for my . . . less than civilized behavior earlier. For dropping to my knees and—”

“Apology accepted. Don’t mention that again, please.”

The flush of color to his cheeks was subtle, but noticeable, and he averted his gaze. “Noted.”

I hope she’s not afraid of me now. I hope she can forgive me. Drak’s voice and words drove hard and fast into my mind, and I nearly dropped my mug as my head snapped up and I stared at him.

“What?” he asked, with a knitted brow.

“Did you just . . . did you say something?”

“I said ‘noted.’”

“But nothing else?”

“No.”

I wish she could see how badly we need to mate. How mating would help all of this.

“There it is again. You’re talking.”

He shook his head. “No. I’m not.”

I was hearing his fears. Much like I’d heard them when he found Zandren and me in the woods.

“I’m hungry,” Zandren said.

“You’re always hungry,” Maxar countered.

“Yeah. So?”

The front door opened and Gemma walked in, looking as beautiful as ever, despite the events of last night and Raewyn nearly killing her. Guilt still gnawed at my gut with serrated teeth over what nearly happened. And it happened because she was with me. She was my best friend, my roommate, my sister. As much as I didn’t want to leave her, maybe it was for the best? At least until I got a handle on my powers and could better protect her.

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