Apology and Reconciliation

Draven.

Dealing with Meredith was like fighting an endless war with a shifting battlefield. One minute she was defiant, the next, vulnerable.

She could infuriate me with a single glare—and yet, even now, the image of her smiling at that damned burrito earlier still lingered in my mind.

If it were up to me, I wouldn't ever be involved with women. They were too complicated. Too unpredictable. Too… everything.

But the Moon Goddess had bound me to her. Not just to her body, but to her chaos. Her fire. Her damn stubbornness.

I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, hands clasped tightly. My claws itched at the tips of my fingers. I wanted to rip the tension out of the air.

Instead, I closed my eyes and started plotting.

I couldn't just barge into her room like nothing had happened. She'd close the door in my face or worse—tear into me with words that would make me want to break something. I had to be precise. Strategic.