Page 57 of Draven

“Doyle, how badly are you injured?” I asked.

His lack of response alarmed me, and a glance into the backseat revealed that he had slipped back into unconsciousness.

Cursing under my breath, I wrestled with conflicting thoughts.

My initial plan had been to push through the night without stopping, aiming to reach Sky Stead as quickly as possible.

But with Doyle's condition worsening, that plan now seemed reckless. Red Vine was closer and had decent medical facilities.

Making a split-second decision, I reached for my phone and dialed Tobias. He answered promptly, and I switched the call to speaker, needing to keep my focus on the road.

"Tobias," I said. "Doyle's injured. We need help, and we need it fast."

TOBIAS

As we sat in the trailer, waiting anxiously for Draven's return with his injured pack mate, I couldn't help but feel grateful to Lucinda.

Her willingness to help in a situation like this, despite the dangers involved, meant a lot to me.

"Thank you for doing this," I said.

Hearing Draven's voice on the phone had been a relief beyond words, especially considering everything I just recently learned about the Payne witches.

When I told Draven I could ask Lucinda for help, as she knew healing magic, he'd been a little reluctant to accept her aid. But I somehow managed to convince him to trust her.

I didn't think my trust was misplaced, because Darcy made it clear she didn't want anything to do with Draven or whatever mess he was in.

Lucinda was here on her own accord.

"Can I ask why you decided to help me?" I inquired, trying to gauge her motives. "Do you want anything in return? I mean, I'd gladly give it, if it's within my means to give."

"I don't require anything in return, Tobias," she said. “You’re a friend, and I couldn't stand idly by knowing your mate needed assistance."

I flushed. "We're not exactly mates yet. I mean, I always suspected Draven was, but we haven't..." I trailed off, realizing I was babbling.

The past few hours spent waiting for news of Draven had been awful. I never wanted to go through something like that ever again, and yet, I'd never been that scared for someone either.

The prospect of losing him devastated me.

The rumble of a truck engine outside interrupted our conversation, sparing me from further embarrassment and the need to continue this conversation with Lucinda.

Rising from my seat, I hurried to the door, anxious. As I flung the door open, relief flooded in as I saw Draven's truck parked outside.

Without hesitation, I rushed out to meet him and see how Doyle was faring.

I was devastated by the sight of the injured Doyle. Draven fared no better; he was covered in blood, but at least he wasn't missing an arm.

"Let's get him inside," Lucinda said.

Draven and I carried Doyle into his trailer.

"I need space to work," Lucinda said after we lowered Doyle onto a sofa.

Without warning, Doyle opened his eyes, lunged for Lucinda's shirt, and tugged her close, baring his teeth.

I tensed, about to help, but Draven stopped me by placing a hand on my shoulder. To my surprise, Doyle sniffed Lucinda, then released her shirt.

"White witch," Doyle murmured, retracting his fangs.

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