15. Draven/ Tobias

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

DRAVEN/ TOBIAS

DRAVEN

Belladonna’s words sent shivers down my spine. I watched as she began to chant.

The mark on my chest glowed in response, and I gasped in agony as the pain surged through me.

But then, as quickly as it had come, the pain subsided, replaced by the reassuring touch of the protective necklace against my skin.

Though it still hurt, I could think clearly, and I knew I was still myself.

Darcy’s trinket was working. Balancing Doyle's weight, I made my way toward the door.

Behind me, Belladonna screamed in frustration. “Why isn't my binding curse working?"

Ignoring her, I focused on getting Doyle to safety. But suddenly, I felt a searing pain across my back, as though invisible blades were slicing through my flesh.

Another of her spells. Gritting my teeth against the agony, I pressed on.

Belladonna continued her relentless assault, chanting another spell as I reached the threshold of the mausoleum.

With a quick turn, I unleashed a jet of fire in her direction, forcing her to dart away to avoid being engulfed.

"Stay back, Belladonna," I warned. "I won't hesitate to defend myself and Doyle."

She was staring not at the mark on my chest but the protective necklace that was peeking out of my shirt. She sneered.

“So you went to a white witch for protection,” she said.

"This won't end like last time," I said.

My mind raced with conflicting thoughts. Doyle needed my help, and that was my priority.

Yet, the temptation to confront Belladonna, to end this once and for all, lingered in the back of my mind like a persistent shadow.

However, I wouldn’t be able to face Zane if Doyle bled out.

I couldn't risk losing another member of my pack, especially not when I had the chance to save him.

Besides, Belladonna was cunning and resourceful. She probably had more tricks up her sleeve. There was no guarantee I would win this fight.

"Coward," my inner beast whispered, its presence stirring beneath my skin.

The dragon surged against my flesh, eager for a confrontation with Belladonna.

"Not now," I thought, gritting my teeth as I fought to suppress the urge to transform.

But the beast was relentless, scales spreading across my arms and legs in a silent protest.

"No," I whispered in despair, knowing that giving in to the dragon's demands could have dire consequences.

If I shifted now, Doyle might end up as a casualty.

Just when it felt like the dragon would burst forth from within me, Belladonna uttered another spell, pointing a finger in my direction.

In an instant, the dragon's presence receded, leaving behind only empty silence.

I stared at Belladonna in shock, my mind reeling with questions. What had she done to me?

Run, I thought in panic. With Doyle still draped over my shoulder, I broke into a sprint, my muscles straining against the weight as I propelled myself forward.

Every step was a struggle, but I knew I had to put distance between us and Belladonna before she could conjure another sinister spell.

Her mocking laughter echoed behind us as we fled, spurring me on even harder.

"Run, dragon. You won't get far. I'll always find you...you and those you ever care about," she said.

As I headed for the parking lot, my mind reeled.

The realization that Belladonna had somehow severed my connection to my dragon sent a shiver down my spine.

What kind of magic was she wielding? I reached out desperately, searching for the familiar presence of my dragon within me.

Sure, the two of us were locked in a battle for control now, but he’d always been a part of me.

There was a moment of panic, a fear that I would find nothing but emptiness where he once resided.

But to my immense relief, I felt the faint flicker of his presence, still there but muted, as if pushed into the depths of my being.

She hadn't taken that from me at least, but the knowledge that she could wield such power over me, over us, filled me with a sense of vulnerability I hadn't felt in a long time.

“My truck’s over there,” Doyle whispered, his words snapping me back to reality.

Relief flooded through me at the sound of his voice. He was conscious, albeit weakened, but it was a promising sign.

I fumbled through his pockets until I found the keys, then carefully assisted Doyle into the backseat.

What did we need next? A first aid kit, I thought, beginning to search his truck.

"We'll deal with my injuries later. Grab your motorcycle. We can't afford to linger," he wheezed, his breaths labored.

Concern tightened my chest, but I nodded in agreement.

Without hesitation, I retrieved my motorcycle and loaded it into the back of Doyle's truck, securing it as best as I could.

With Doyle settled and my motorcycle secured, I slid into the driver's seat, wasting no time in starting the engine.

As we drove away from the cemetery, the adrenaline coursing through my veins masked the exhaustion threatening to overwhelm me.

Belladonna's threat echoed in my mind, a reminder that she wouldn’t stop hunting me or those I cared about…until I was hers to control again.

I shook my head and pressed down on the accelerator. For now, my priority was to put as much distance between us and her as possible.

As we left the town limits behind, the tension that had gripped me began to ease slightly. But my relief was short-lived when I turned my attention to Doyle.

“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.

"You'll let me help you?" Lucinda asked patiently.

"Yeah, I was married to one of you before," Doyle muttered, closing his eyes.

I looked to Draven in surprise. Draven shrugged, clearly surprised by that information as well.

"Let me take care of you while she heals Doyle," I told Draven.

Draven watched Lucinda place her glowing palms over Doyle's chest for a moment before turning to me and nodding.

I ushered Doyle into my bedroom, feeling a wave of relief that I wouldn't have to explain two injured dragons to Tom.

With Tom finally settled into his own place, I could focus on helping Doyle without any interruptions.

Grabbing a first aid kit, I turned to Draven and asked him to sit down and remove his shirt.

He hesitated. “Doyle's injuries are worse. I’ll be alright,” Draven said.

I gave him a knowing but patient look. My dragon could be unexpectedly stubborn at times, but I knew he’d eventually cave into my demands. He always did.

Draven sighed and reluctantly complied. I gasped when I saw the cuts on Draven's body. It looked like someone had slashed him with a knife multiple times.

My heart clenched at the sight, and I couldn't help but reach out, my fingers trembling as they hovered over one of the wounds.

But before I could touch it, Draven intercepted my hand, his touch sending a jolt of warmth through me.

"They'll heal," Draven said.

But his words did little to reassure me. Tears welled up in my eyes, threatening to spill over, as the fear and worry I had bottled up since he left surged to the surface.

"Why are you crying?" Draven whispered, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that had escaped my eye.

His concern only made the tears flow faster, and I struggled to find the right words to say to him.

"Do you have any idea what you put me through?" I finally managed to choke out, my voice barely above a whisper. "I was terrified, Draven. Terrified that I'd lost you forever."

Draven's expression softened, and he pulled me into a tight embrace, holding me close as if he could shield me from all the pain and uncertainty.

"I'm sorry," Draven murmured, stroking my hair. "I promise, I'll always come back to you. You mean everything to me."

"You mean everything to me too," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, as I nestled closer to him, seeking comfort in his embrace.

Draven winced, and I immediately pulled back, remembering he was still injured.

"Will you sit still and let me tend to you?" I asked, already reaching for the first aid kit.

Draven nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he settled back against the pillows.

I carefully cleaned and bandaged the cuts on his body, my touch gentle. Draven watched me intently, surprise flickering in his eyes as I worked.

"You know basic first aid?" he asked, sounding genuinely amazed.

I couldn't help but chuckle. "Lucinda and I took an extra course two years ago," I explained, a hint of amusement in my voice. "Look, it finally came in handy."

Draven grinned, his gaze softening as he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from my face.

"You never cease to amaze me, Tobias," he said, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "Thank you for taking care of me."

Someone cleared their throat, and I turned to see Lucinda standing there.

"I've done all I could for your friend," she said to Draven.

Draven rose to his feet. "Thank you, Lucinda," he said sincerely.

"It was for Tobias," she replied, before turning to me. "Tobias, you should take a few days off work. I can manage on my own.”

I nodded, feeling touched by her consideration. "Thanks. I'll do that," I replied, offering her a grateful smile.