**CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE.**
Topper didn't notice me until I cleared my throat. “Hey,” I said, passing him a sheepish smile. I could tell the whole thing with Drake and Brianna was weighing him down, and I was suddenly feeling bad even when I knew I shouldn't have since he was technically the cheater, not me.
I sighed. “Look, I'm not going to apologize about the breakup or for what I said the other day,” I began softly. “It's true it's not in my place to tell, but I was just so mad at Drake for his statement that I just didn't even realize what I was saying next.”
His expression softened. “It's fine,” he said, and fortunately for me his tone didn't have an edge to it. I was somewhat expecting him to straight up ignore me or snap at me. “It's fine. Drake can be an ass sometimes.”
“Tell me about it,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. “I can't imagine what it’s like having to put up with him all the time.”
Topper chuckled lowly and that warmed me. At least he wasn't - in Betty's words - *brooding* anymore. “You're not the one who had to spend sixteen years of your life putting up with his madness. You should have met him as a child, he was way too petty.”
I laughed. “Wouldn't expect any less. How did you two even get this close? Sorry if I'm intruding, but I can't help being curious.”
“It's fine,” Topper passed me a genuine smile. “Let’s just say Drake and I have a history together. Yeah…history.”
“Fair enough,” I said, offering him a small nod of understanding. We sat in silence for a moment, both of us listening to Betty and link's argue. Killian was still by the balcony, his voice muffled by the glass as he spoke to Drake.
Draken returned not quite long from the bathroom, looking more composed. He had even taken the opportunity to wash the sweat off his face. He walked over to me, extending a hand. “You alright?” he asked, his voice low, but there was a certain intensity behind his gaze.
I took his hand and the first thing I noticed was how hot his hand was. I let him pull me to my feet. “Yeah.”
He glanced at Topper, then back at me, his jaw tightening slightly. “Two of you spoke?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yes. I had to clear some things with him.”
“Okay,” he said as he led me back to where we were seated, his grip on my hand even stronger. “My rut can hit anytime soon, Eline. My wolf doesn't like the sight of you sitting next to another guy.”
Oh, Draken was jealous. I scoffed. “Jealous now, are you?”
“Yes. Grey is willing to kill anyone that comes close to you right now,” he said so casually, but I could hear the underlying threat in his tone.
Draken ran a hand through his hair, clearly fighting to maintain control over his emotions—and his rut.
Before I could respond, Killian returned from the balcony, his expression grim. “Drake said he won't be coming. However, he did say he would be sending over Olly and Austin…” I remembered Austin and Olly. They were the guards I'd seen the first time I saw Drake over at Topper's apartment. “to help bring the body over to him, so he'd deal with the situation all by himself, but he’s not happy.”
“When is Drake ever happy?” Topper muttered from the floor, earning a dry chuckle from Betty and Links. “But what's making him mad this time?”
There was a slight hesitation before Killian spoke again. “He didn't really tell me…y'all should already know how much of a drama queen he can be.”
“Sighs,” Betty said in an exaggerated tone as she stood up and stretched. “Kelvin, Links, and I have somewhere to go to, so we'll be leaving you all now since drake alee promised to take care of the body. Also, Draken, try controlling that scent of yours it seems like you could go feral any moment from now.”
“I'm trying,” Draken replied, his tone was strained and I could tell his rut was really bothering him.
With that, Betty, Links, and Kelvin headed for the door, leaving us in a quieter, emptier room. Killian lingered for a moment longer before mumbling something about needing to check in with his father and disappearing as well.
“Do you need help to get to you parents estate, Draken?” Topper asked as he stood up from the floor
Draken shook his head. “No. I'll be spending my rut here.”
Topper frowned, passing me a precautionary look that showed he was worried. “Are you sure?” He asked, drifting his gaze back to his best friend as he moved forward towards us. He placed his hand against Draken's forehead to feel his body temperature. “Your body heat is really high. How many months have you been suppressing this rut?”
“About Six months now,”
“Six months?” Topper's voice rose in disbelief. “You've got to be kidding me.”
“I'm not.”
“Draken!” Topper raised his voice again. Though I could tell he was just being concerned about his best friend. “You do know having a rut six months after suppressing it would be terrible, especially if you plan on spending it with Eline.”
I felt my cheeks heat up as I tucked my hair to the back of my ear. I was feeling a bit awkward by the conversation, but I listened anyways.
“Your condition right now is comparable to a dam that's finally be let out after being suppressed, you might not be able to control it,” Topper continued. “I'd advise you spend your rut alone this time. Spending —”
“It was my choice to spend it with him, not his. I made the choice myself,” I said, interrupting as I cleared the air.
Topper sighed as he crouched in front of us. His gaze flickered between Draken and I before he sighed again. “Eline, I get you care and all that, but I'm only saying this because I care about you. There's a 99.8% chance that you might lose your life —”
The doorbell rang, making Topper's words hang in the air.
Draken and I stood up from the chair while Topper went to go check who was by the door.
By the time he came back, he was with Austin and Olly, Drake's guards, who did a quick job of carrying the dead body away.
Once they were gone, Topper turned back to me, his expression serious. "I’m not going to sugarcoat this, Eline. You’re a werecat, a prey species. To Draken’s wolf, especially during his rut, they would see themselves as a predator who's obsessed with the scent of a prey. They would see you as nothing more but a meal which scent they can't get enough of. You could die if you go through with this.”
“I have eight lives to myself anyway,” I said, not backing down. “I'll help him with his rut.”