“You need coffee, or that syrup shit you drink.” He rushed off muttering, leaving me flat on my back, staring at the ugliest ceiling I’ve ever seen —cracked and some shade of orange that hurt my eyes.
Ugly.
Who would live here?
“I do, asshole.” That damn voice.
I looked up and met her glare—and shit, if looks could kill, I’d be digging my own grave by now.
I didn’t realise I was speaking out loud.
“She looks extra cute when she’s about to murder you,” Ronan called from somewhere, clearly enjoying himself.
“I will look absolutely adorable in a minute,” She replied, still not taking her judgmental eyes off me.
I think I’m seconds away from getting my ass kicked by a tiny homicidal pixie in a hoodie.
The bloodsucker was leaning against the wall near her, spinning a knife around like he had nothing better to do, his attention on me.
Ronan walked past her with a mug. “Ronan, this is a problem.” She tells him as he takes my hand and pulls me up into a sitting position, thrusting the mug at me.
“Drink your syrup.”
I ignored the jab and did just that; the burn on my tongue barely felt, the sweetness hitting the right spot, as it always helped sober me.
“I know the guy is massive and drunk; I didn’t hear him follow me.” He told her, but his eyes kept flickering to the bloodsucker as if he was expecting a knife in the back.
I wouldn't be surprised.
She noticed. “He won’t hurt you.”
The vampire smirked, lazy and lethal. “Now, don’t start fibbin', little witch. I’m still deciding if those pretty blue eyes would look better in a jar on my shelf.”
Ronan choked on air. “He’s joking, right?”
“Nope,” she said flatly. “Unfortunately, that’s just Malrik being… Malrik. Stop eye fucking him like he’s dessert.”
Malrik.
Stupid name.
Sleep tugged at me, the warmth of the coffee and the soft howl of the snow and wind outside lulling me fast. It wouldn't be long now till I was out cold—and if Malrik stayed, I probably wouldn’t wake again.
Ronan clicked in front of my face, “Hey, no sleeping, not until you tell me why you were following me. You're supposed to be with the twins.”
My eyes were damn near shutting on their own, heavy as hell and useless now. Their voices still murmured around me, but itall sounded warped—like I was underwater or stuck inside my own skull.
The warmth in the room wasn’t helping either. Between the heat, the hum of the wind and snow outside, and that damn syrupy drink still sitting in my gut, I was outmatched. Sleep was creeping in fast, and I wasn’t going to win this fight.
The last thing I caught before everything faded was a flash of beautiful silver eyes. Observing me.
I let out a low breath and sank into whatever soft thing I had been dropped on. Comfy enough, I’ve slept on worse. I’d worry about Malrik and whatever twisted ideas he had after I got five damn minutes of sleep.
Tomorrow, when I’m not drunk, I will deal with this and rip that guy’s damn head off.
Chapter 11
RAVENA
