Page 32 of Sweetheart: Part One

Fucking great.

Drake and his all too loud fear.

He really needed to get a grip on the bond.

LOVE

A spike of panic from Drake had me wide awake in moments.

It didn’t take much to find him. He was outside the Sweetheart’s room, which was somehow un-fucking-surprising at this point. Whatwassurprising, was seeing Drake pinning Ebony against the wall, a snarl on his face, shirt in his fist.

Ebony looked… tense. It was the kind of look he got when he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t by one of the few people whose opinion he was forced to care about.

“Tell me, what were you going to do?” Drake was demanding, shoving his chest. I’d never seen Drake as angry as he was right now.

He was tall and slender, and didn’t have a frame to match Ebony. Not thatmatchingEbony would usually be my concern with Drake, but from his expression right now, a fight didn’t seem like a leap.

Ebony’s eyes slid to me, and his expression soured, nose wrinkling.

“What the fuck is going on?” I asked. Drake spun on me, and then he glanced behind. Light footsteps told me Rook had arrived, too.

“He was in her room.” Drake spat.

That drew me up.

He waswhat?

“So were you,” Ebony hissed, shoving Drake back a step. “What’s that about?”

“She was having nightmares.”

“And it’s up to you to fix that?” he demanded.

“When you are likely the reason? Yes, it fucking well is.”

It was official. I’dneverseen Drake this mad. He looked wild as he stared at Ebony.

Ebony’s gaze lingered on the tremble in Drake’s fist for a moment, and I saw the brief flash of discomfort I’d only ever seen reserved for Drake. “I was just going to scare her.”

I was still trying to detangle it all. Both the shock, and the little flare of rage in my chest at hearing those words.

“How?” I asked.

Ebony’s lips pulled back in a snarl as he looked at me. “I didn’t have a plan.”

I couldn’t help glancing at Rook, who’d obviously also been ripped out of sleep. He was wearing sweats, but was topless, rich brown skin and abs on display as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed. He shot me a curious look right back.

Ebony rarely didn’t have a plan. And even rarer would he admit that. I wondered if it was Drake throwing him off—he wasn’t used to being on the other end of Drake’s rage. None of us were, but Ebony especially.

That, or… or it was her.

Again.

Throwing my brother off balance like I’d never seen. Now she was throwing off Drake, who didn’t get close to anyone outside the pack, but was spending the night with her already.

“You wereinher fucking room, and you didn’t know what you were going to do?” Drake hissed, finally releasing Ebony. He didn’t look any less coiled to pounce, though.

Only, my attention was ripped away by a shift of movement to the left. The door of the Sweetheart room was cracked, and a bright chocolate eye was peering out.

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