<h4>Chapter 218: Melting into His Kiss</h4>


    <strong><i>Meredith.</i></strong>


    "Draven!" I turned to him, exasperated. "What are you waiting for?"


    He turned, calmly, deliberately. "I want to catch one, Meredith. Not scare them off," he said, reminding me of his goal.


    I was stunned. My mouth opened, but I had no immediate words.


    "Someone could get hurt," I said atst. "Someone innocent could die."


    Draven’s eyes didn’t waver. "Then that person is destined to return to their ancestors."


    I stared at him, heart thudding. That was harsh. But then again... he wasn’t like me.


    I wanted to argue. I wanted to say he was being reckless and cold—but deep down, I also knew that Draven never made a decision lightly.


    And if he was willing to risk casualties, it meant this n held greater importance than I could fully grasp.


    So, I let it go for now.


    "You know more about this than I do," I murmured. "So, I won’t interfere."


    He tilted his head, and I saw a hint of approval flicker behind his usually stoic features.


    "When you be a warrior," he said, "then we will begin to think alike. Until then... I wee your opposing views."


    I managed a small smile, though my stomach was still knotted tight with nerves. "See you at the dinner table," I said, turning toward the door.


    But just as I reached for the handle, I felt his hand wrap around my waist and pull me back gently.


    His arms encircled me from behind, firm but warm.


    My breath hitched. I couldn’t even take another step forward.


    Draven said nothing. He just rested his forehead lightly against the back of my head, his silence speaking volumes.


    His breath brushed softly against the side of my neck.


    There was something different in the way he held me—not possessive like the Alpha, not demanding like amander—but steady, quiet, unspoken—a rare moment of peace within the storm that had be our daily lives.


    His warmth seeped into my spine, his heartbeat a slow, calm rhythm that somehow matched mine. I closed my eyes for a moment, allowing myself to lean just slightly into him. Just slightly.


    "You’ve been differenttely," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper.


    I felt his chest rise and fall behind me. "You mean calmer," he muttered against my hair.


    "No," I smiled faintly, tilting my head just enough to nce at him over my shoulder. "I meant softer."


    Draven huffed under his breath. "Don’t let anyone hear you say that."


    "Toote," I teased. "The walls have ears."


    A small chuckle escaped him—quiet, but real. Then one of his hands moved from my waist and slowly brushed the edge of my arm, fingers trailing the curve of my elbow.


    I turned fully to face him, and we were standing so close now that I could see the subtle shadows beneath his silver eyes.


    His gaze dropped to my lips, then returned to meet mine with that same unreadable expression he always wore—except this time, it wasn’tpletely unreadable.


    There was something softer there. Something warmer. Like fire that had lost its rage but retained its heat.


    He raised one hand and gently tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.


    My chest tightened, not in pain, not in panic, but in something else.


    "I’ve missed this," I admitted before I could stop myself.


    Draven’s hand lingered near my cheek. "Missed what?"


    "This. Us. When we are not at each other’s throats."


    His thumb grazed the side of my jaw. "It’s easier not to fight when you’re not always provoking me."


    I rolled my eyes and swatted his arm yfully. "You started it."


    "I apologized, didn’t I?" he replied, lowering his voice, as if teasing had suddenly turned into something more meaningful.


    I looked into his eyes for a moment longer. "Yes. You did."


    That answer lingered in the air between us, thick with all the unsaid things neither of us knew how to express just yet.


    I didn’t need him to say sorry again. And I didn’t need to hear confessions or derations.


    But I did need this.


    Him.


    Like this.


    I took a breath, bracing myself—and then, slowly, I reached up and cupped his face in both hands.


    Draven’s eyes widened just slightly, as if he wasn’t expecting the tenderness.


    Maybe he thought I’d push him away. Perhaps I thought I would, too. But I didn’t.


    "You’re not as cold as you pretend to be," I murmured.


    His brows drew together, and I could see the tension fight its way back into his shoulders—so I rose on my toes and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.


    Not his lips, just the corner.


    It was safer that way.


    When I pulled back, his expression was unreadable again—but now, I could sense the storm beneath it—his longing.


    And yet... he didn’t say a word.


    Instead, he leaned in—slowly, deliberately—and rested his forehead against mine.


    I thought we were done with the moment, that this would be the end of it—a silent truce, a gentle understanding.


    But then his fingers slid beneath my chin.


    Before I could blink or brace, Draven tilted my face upward and captured my lips.


    It wasn’t demanding, not at first. Not the usual heat I was used to from him. It was soft, careful—as though he was rediscovering something he thought he’d lost.


    I froze, but only for a moment.


    Then my eyes fluttered shut and I melted into the kiss, my hands instinctively rising to grip the fabric of his shirt.


    His mouth was warm, steady. His lips moved against mine like a vow being made without words—slow, deep, deliberate.


    But something shifted.


    I felt it. And so did he.


    His hands tightened at my waist, drawing me closer. My breath caught in my throat, and then our mouths met again — this time less hesitant, more urgent.


    The second kiss stole the softness from the first and reced it with something hungrier, more possessive, like he needed this. Like I needed this.


    His palm pressed against the small of my back, my body flush against his.


    Our lips moved in sync, the kiss deepening until it made my knees tremble and my heart race.


    I broke away, gasping, and so did he. Our breaths mingled in the small space between us, foreheads pressed together once more, but this time the energy between us crackled like wildfire.


    My lips tingled. My heart thudded wildly in my chest.


    Draven’s fingers trailed slowly down my arms, then settled again at my waist, anchoring me in ce


    "I should go," I whispered breathlessly, unable to meet his eyes for a second. "It’s almost time for dinner... and I need to get ready."


    His mouth twitched — not quite a smirk, but something warmer.


    "I will be waiting," he murmured, his voice low, rough with restrained desire. "Come to me after dinner."


    He leaned back slightly, just enough for our eyes to lock again.


    "I will need your warmth... until it’s time to hunt."


    My pulse skipped.


    I nodded slowly — the weight of his words sinking deep beneath my skin — and then stepped away from him, leaving behind thefort of his arms and the heat of his gaze.


    But not before stealing onest nce.


    And the way he looked at me... Like he would devour me if I didn’t leave immediately.