**CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT.**
Fortunately for me, Draken's rut stopped with his second wave. However, at this point I was left immobile.
It was morning already, the sun peeping out through the windows. I was widely awake on the bed, lying there like a sloth. Draken sat beside me, his brow furrowed in deep concentration as he gently tended to the wound on my neck. He looked like a surgeon preparing for a life threatening operation, which, given the situation, seemed a bit much.
“Stop staring at my neck like that tiny injury is going to kill me,” I muttered, trying to inject some humor into the moment.
Draken’s gaze flickered to mine, guilt still swimming in his eyes. “I mean, look at what I did to you,” he mumbled, his voice thick with regret.
He’d been like this since his rut finally wore off, stuck in some endless loop of self-blame. He even had my bath for me this morning, and now he was *bandaiding* me all over my body.
“I’m just glad I didn’t go through a third wave. I don’t even want to think about what I would’ve done…” He trailed off, his hands still hovering awkwardly around the bandage.
“You really shouldn’t be so hard on yourself,” I said, attempting to sit up a little. It was a mistake. My body screamed in protest, so I quickly sank back into the pillows. “I offered to help, remember?”
Draken looked at me, his face a mix of concern and self-loathing, before turning away to toss the bandages back into the first-aid box. Standing up, he stretched, muscles rippling under his bare chest, while his black joggers hung low on his hips. He looked fresh and unscathed, like he’d just returned from a light workout, unlike me who looked like I'd just survived a war. Speaking literally, I did survive a war with Draken's rut.
“You look so fresh,” I muttered underneath my breath as I stared at him.
“I wish I could take your pain away,” he said softly, ignoring my statement as his eyes drifted down to my breasts. “I’m really sorry about…that,” he added, wincing as he gestured to the band-aids he had gently placed on my nipples.
“Draken, if you say sorry one more time, I swear I’ll crawl out of this bed, hobble out of your apartment, and break up with you right this second,” I threatened.
It was an empty threat. My legs felt like jelly, and let’s not even talk about the state of my…well, everything else that was still sore. I’d be lucky if I could stand without wobbling. But the dramatic effect seemed to work because Draken’s guilty expression finally softened.
He picked up a shirt of his from his wardrobe and helped me wear it before climbing into bed next to me, his body warm as he cuddled up, resting his head on my chest. “What do you want for breakfast this morning?”
“I’ve got class—”
“You’re not going to class,” he interrupted, his tone firm. “There’s no way you’re in any condition to even walk, let alone go to school. People would think you were in an accident or mauled by a wild animal.”
“Okay, you’re right,” I snickered. “Guess I’ll skip today. In that case, pancakes and Nutella.”
“Not pancakes and syrup?” Draken asked, raising an eyebrow.
I gasped dramatically, placing a hand over my heart. “Are you judging my breakfast choices?”
His laugh was soft, and his eyes twinkled with amusement. “I would never. Your culinary tastes are, of course, above reproach, milady.” He pushed himself off the bed with a mock bow. “Pancakes and Nutella it is. Your wish is my command. Although I won't be able to offer you coffee.”
“It's fine. I also wouldn't want any coffee cup meeting their doom this early morning,” I joked.
Draken laughed as he placed a kiss on my lips. His dirty blonde hair had fallen over his face, making him look even more sexier. It sent butterflies spiraling in my stomach. “I haven't taken your box out of the car,” he noted. “I'll go do that now. I just also remembered that Topper shoe is still with me also.”
“He went home barefooted?” Damn, I didn't even realise that.
“It's Topper. He hardly cares about what people thinks about him,” Draken said, standing up from the bed. “I'll go get your box and pancakes.”
I watched him leave the bedroom and when he was fully gone, I drifted my gaze out to the window as I remembered Tyler and the hunters, but as soon as the thought came I brushed it away from my mind.
No, I didn't want to think about them. At least not for today.
All I wanted was a peaceful day with just me and my boyfriend.
Just one peaceful day before anymore madness.
A few minutes later, he returned, holding my box in the other hand, and balancing a tray with what looked like a mountain of pancakes slathered in Nutella in one hand. He even added strawberries on top, probably to make it look *healthier.* He dropped the box next to the door and walked towards me with the tray, setting it down on the bed with a proud grin, as if he’d just won some kind of cooking competition.
“Special pancakes for miss snorter, complete with a jar of Nutella and…a side of guilt, all made my chef Draken,” he said with a sheepish smile as he helped me sit upright.
I rolled my eyes, grabbing the fork which laid on the tray. He had even done well to wrap the fork with a tissue. “Don’t push it, chef Draken. And seriously, stop with the guilt thing, you’re making me lose my appetite.”
“At least I didn't say sorry, so you can't break up with me,” he pouted.
“You know what? I've changed my mind. Draken, if you say sorry or act guilty one more time, I swear I’ll crawl out of this bed, hobble out of your apartment, and break up with you right this second,” I changed the threat.
Draken smiled and flopped down beside me again, watching as I took my first bite of pancakes. “Okay, no more guilt. But seriously, how are the pancakes? Be honest. I'd love to improve.”
I paused dramatically, letting the suspense hang in the air. “Hmm…not bad. Could use more Nutella, though.”
He gasped in mock horror. “More Nutella? Even after I generously added a whole jar to it!”
“Not my fault you’ve underestimated my love for chocolate spread,” I teased, taking another bite and savoring the sweetness. Again, Draken was perfect —The pancakes were fluffy and perfect, but I wasn’t about to tell him that.
We sat in silence for a while, him nibbling on a piece of cinnamon toast he’d brought for himself, and me demolishing the pancakes like I hadn’t eaten in days. Eventually, though, reality started creeping back in, and I couldn’t help but glance at the clock.
“I can’t miss today's classes,” I muttered through a mouthful of food.
Draken gave me a look, clearly unimpressed. “You can barely sit up straight without wincing. I think you should be allowed to miss a day.”
“I don’t want to fall behind, though. I already suck at statistics,” I groaned. The thought of being buried under even more homework made my brain hurt more than my body did right now. I hated statistics, and I didn't understand why I even had to offer the course as a student of philosophy.
Draken reached over and plucked the fork from my hand. “Listen to yourself. You’re not going to statistics class today. You’re going to rest and I'll spoil you with more food. You shouldn't even be arguing with me when you can’t even *move*.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but he immediately shut me up with a piece of pancake. I sighed in defeat. He was right. As much as I hated to miss class, the thought of dragging myself across campus while feeling like this was a joke.
I sighed again, leaning back against the pillows.
“Fine, you win. But only because I’m lazy, not because you’re right,” I muttered as I chewed on to my pancake.
He grinned triumphantly, leaning down to kiss my forehead. “That’s the spirit. Now, how about we spend the day binge-watching Harry potter?”
“You know what, maybe you're right!”