Chapter 120: Speak for me again, I dare you
"Sam, let me do that." Draken’s voice spoke up, just as Sam was about to hand feed Cass since he couldn’t use his own hands. Cass froze, Sam froze, and Draken practically threw himself up and over the back of the loveseat in a great display of physical strength. He had a smile on his face, but his eyes were determined and Cass felt himself tense.
Now that he’d had a bit of time and space between them, he was embarrassed, and weary of the man. Draken, for once, seemed to be aware of his feelings without having to look internally at the forced bond. Draken’s smile was warm when he looked at the tense Cass, and the tense Sam.
"That isn’t necessary. Sam is perfectly capable." Cass countered and Draken put his hands on his hips, snorting as he flipped his long hair to the side.
"When did I say he wasn’t? Did you forget about yesterday, Cassian? I need to learn how to take care of you, and that involves hands-on experience. I’m not good with book learning." His grin as he tilted his head to the side made Cass’ heart stop.
God fucking damn it. There was a reason he had avoided them as much as he could. Cass was susceptible to a fucking pretty face. And Draken? The man was damn fucking pretty. It was another reason that Cass didn’t get mad at Lord Blackburn for having a crush on him. Cass completely understood, even if the man had done some unforgivable things.
Handsome was handsome, and the man was turning up the charm. Cass was in trouble.
He hoped that Lady Fiona showed up soon. Then he could kick him out under the pretense of ’needing some privacy’. Maybe he wouldn’t come back.
"Don’t you have something better to do with your time?" Cass said, the words sounding harsh and Draken narrowed his gaze.
"Not really. I’m not tied to a particular human family, and I don’t really have anyone I need to train. I usually hunt, oh, Sam, there’s a beast down below that you should probably deal with." Cass slid his gaze to Sam, who stared at Draken. Draken had a little smirk on his face, as if he’d won, and Cass couldn’t argue and say that he hadn’t. Byron was already doing something for him, and so was Sir Forsythe. It had to be Sam.
Damn it.
Sam sighed softly, straightening his back before he turned to Cass.