The Wolves and the White Bird

18. The Unravelling

Draven gripped Cora's shoulder, his hand tightening as his anger radiated off him in waves. He pressed her back against the rough bark of a tree, their chests pressed together. The force of his actions left her breathless, both physically and emotionally.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Draven's voice sounded deep and threatening, his words laced with fury as he stared into her eyes, searching for answers.

Cora's mind raced with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, leaving her feeling utterly perplexed and uncertain. She found herself grappling with the weight of the situation, desperately searching for the right words to convey her inner turmoil. How could she possibly be held accountable for something that was clearly not her fault? The brutal assault inflicted upon her by Johar had left her traumatised, and yet, Draven seemed to place the blame squarely on her shoulders. It was bewildering and deeply unsettling. Cora couldn't fathom how Draven, who had sanctioned those actions, could now shift the responsibility onto her. The sheer audacity of it all left her nearly speechless.

"You get subjected to torture and you don't even think of telling me? Or anyone for that matter? Are you insane? Do you like being hurt? Is that it? You like pain inflicted on yourself?"

Cora's frustration and confusion reached a boiling point, her voice rising with a mixture of defiance and despair. "Don't blame me!" she shouted, her words laced with an intensity fueled by her own inner turmoil. "You're the one who agreed to it!"

Draven's eyes narrowed, his voice hardened with a resolute determination. "I would never consent to allowing someone to harm my mate," he declared, his tone filled with a fierce protectiveness.

Cora's face scrunched up in confusion. Mate? She had heard about werewolves and mates before but there was no way she was going to be tied to Draven from some mystical connection that she didn't even believe in.

"You're my mate Cora." As Draven reached for her cheek, running his hand along the side of her jaw, instinct took over. She slapped his hand away.

"Oh, I'm your mate now huh? You've barely said a word to me in days and now you want to be all affectionate? Just stop it, Draven. I don't want to hear about this shit."

Heat rose in Cora's cheeks as Draven protested. "I'm not the one who has been distant. You've been avoiding me for days, ever since I kissed you."

"And then rejected me," finished Cora. "I'm over this. I don't even want to be here and I definitely don't want to be with you."

Cora watched in unease as Draven's frustration boiled over. His fist collided with the tree behind her, cracking its bark in a spray of splinters. She flinched, recoiling from the shards that stung her cheek.

Draven's rage dissipated in an instant, replaced by a whirlwind of shock and guilt that swept over him. He released her, taking a step back with widening eyes of disbelief as he realised the magnitude of his actions.

Cora reached up, wiping a trickle of fresh blood away from her face. The word "mate" now lingering far in the back of her mind.

As the weight of his actions settled upon him, Draven's features contorted with remorse. The realisation of what he had done, the harm he had caused, cut through him like a knife. He reached out to her, his hand trembling with regret.

"Cora," he whispered, his voice laced with profound sorrow. "I'm...

Cora scoffed, pushing away his hand before it had the chance to get anywhere near her. "Sorry? Is that what you were going to say? After you just said you would never let anyone hurt me. Or did that not apply to you?" Her gaze remained fixed on him, her eyes filled with a mixture of pain and scepticism. "You know what, I'm so tired of all this shit. I'm going back to bed."