redith.
The breeze was warm when we stepped outside, but the sky had changed. The sun was gone, swallowed by thick clouds that dragged across the sky like a warning.
Still, I was too focused on the fluffy tower in Dennis’s hands to care.
"Here," he said, tearing off a bit of the pink cotton candy and holding it out.
I plucked it from his fingers and placed it on my tongue. It was sweet, light, and even lting before I could even chew.
"Oh..." I murmured, "More. I want more."
Dennis laughed and bought another—sa pink cloud, bigger this ti—before purchasing a blue one for himself.
I took another bite of mine, savouring the sugar dissolving on my tongue. But curiosity won over gluttony. I was suddenly interested in trying his own.
"Let try yours," I said, without batting an eye.
Straightaway, he held it out, and I took a small pinch of the blue fluff.
"Mm. Not bad," I mumbled as soon as I tasted it.
A smile appeared on his lips as he watched . "I should have known you’d want both."
"And I should’ve known you’d still give both."
We laughed, but then the first drop hit my shoulder.
Dennis looked up. "We need to leave. Rain’s coming."
He was right. The clouds were sagging now, darker, heavier.
"But first," he said, "I need to grab so things for Draven and Jeffery."
I blinked. "Let guess, you are buying sothing for your brother to bribe him?"
"Yes." He didn’t even try to deny it.
I snorted and followed him back into the ice cream shop.
It didn’t take long. Dennis paid for five plates of assorted flavours and a ridiculous ten boxes of pizza.
"Really?" I asked, raising a brow.
He carried everything himself, arms stacked high.
"I’m guessing so of that is for the servants?" I asked, holding the door open for him.
"They deserve to eat too," he said. "And enjoy Duskmoor from ho.
Outside, the drizzle had turned sharper. The kind of rain that hit the skin like flicks of cold fingers.
"Give the keys," I said quickly, unlocking the car and opening the back passenger door.
"Quick, get in," Dennis told .
I ran around and jumped into the passenger seat, breath caught in my chest. My hair was damp, and my shirt clung tighter to my body than I would’ve liked.
Dennis tossed everything into the back, slamd the door, and got in beside .
The sky had darkened. Wipers swept across the windshield, beating away the rain as Dennis pulled the car out of the parking lot.
Dennis’s hands stayed firm on the wheel.
"So," he said, glancing at the road ahead, "The next driving lesson you should prepare for is driving at night, and in the rain."
"Sounds awful." I sighed, wishing I could skip that part. I didn’t say it out loud, though, because it wouldn’t change anything.
"It is," Dennis replied.
Traffic t us halfway through town. The brake lights ahead ford a sea of red dots.
Dennis sighed. "We’re going to miss dinner."
I groaned. "Draven’s going to be mad at ."
Dennis tilted his head. "Call him. Tell him we are stuck, so he understands our situation."
I reached into my pocket, pulled out my lavender phone, and lit the screen.
I saw three missed call notifications. All from him.
"There are missed calls," I said. "From Draven."
Dennis looked over briefly. "Call him back."
"There’s no reception."
He checked his own phone and sighed. "Nothing here either. My brother’s probably worried sick."
Worried wasn’t the word I’d use. The image that ford in my mind was darker. His face—cold, sharp. That quiet fury that made you wish he’d just yelled instead.
I didn’t want to cross him tonight, especially not with my swimming test coming up. And especially not with combat training still hanging over my head.
"Send a text anyway," Dennis said. "Once reception returns, it should deliver."
I nodded, tapped out a short ssage, and hit send.
’We’re stuck in traffic. Will be late. I will explain later.’
Another ten minutes passed before the red lights ahead began to move.
Dennis shifted into drive and rolled forward slowly.
"Grab a pizza box," he said. "And one plate of ice cream. If we’re missing dinner, we might as well enjoy the delay instead of starving for no just reason."
I reached back and carefully opened a box. The sll hit first—cheese, pepperoni, warm crust.
I pulled out a slice and set it between us, then opened one of the ice cream containers and handed him a spoon.
He scooped into the ice cream, then tore off a slice with one hand.
"This," he said through a mouthful, "this makes everything better."
---
Two hours later, we finally made it ho.
The rain hadn’t stopped, but it had softened into a steady drizzle. The lights of the estate shimred through the wet windshield, golden and blurred.
As we pulled up, I saw him. A single figure, unmoving.
My heart thudded.
Even before Dennis said anything, I knew who it was.
"Seems like my brother is not in a good mood," he said, parking the car.
I didn’t reply.
Draven stood by the front entrance, arms folded, face unreadable in the rain—except it wasn’t unreadable. I could read every inch of that fury from here.
The wipers slowed, then stopped.
Dennis killed the engine. "Go."
"I will help you carry—"
"Go," he repeated. "Now."
I knew he didn’t want to get any more drenched by the rain, but honestly, I would have preferred it to being any closer to an angry Draven.
I hesitated just a mont longer, then pushed open the door and ran through the rain.
The water soaked into my clothes fast. My shirt stuck. My jeans clung to my legs. My heart pounded, not from the cold, but from him.
Draven didn’t move as I stepped under the shed beside him.
He said nothing, but his eyes travelled slowly down my body.
I followed his gaze and saw what he saw—my shirt was now sheer and stuck tightly to my skin. A bit inappropriate. A lot humiliating.
Still, he said nothing.
Then, quietly, he asked, "Why didn’t you pick up when I called?"
I t his gaze, swallowed once. "I didn’t hear it ring. By the ti I saw the missed calls and tried to call back, there was no reception. So... I sent you a ssage."
His eyes narrowed.
I blinked. "You didn’t get it?"
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