[Meredith].
Draven didn't let go of my hand as we walked down the hallway. He didn't speak, but I could feel the sharp but controlled tension radiating from him.
Dennis stayed behind, probably needing time to steady himself.
The elevator doors slid open. Draven gestured for me to enter first, and I stepped inside. He followed, tapping the button for our floor.
The instant the doors closed, the silence became suffocating.
Draven didn't look at me at first. He stood beside me—still, rigid, his golden eyes fixed on the elevator doors. Yet I sensed his attention flickering towards me in small, sharp glances.
He could sense something was off, but I kept my gaze ahead, too tense to meet his eyes. My throat tightened as my thoughts solidly wrapped around what he was.
I crossed my arms subtly, not to protect myself from him, but because I suddenly felt cold.
And of course, Draven noticed. He turned fully toward me, his brows knitting slowly. "Meredith."
