My Most Precious Human

Knowing right from wrong



Knowing right from wrong

Draven's eyes were burning with fury. He was panting dangerously close to my face, sending me an

urge to step back, but I didn't. I looked into his eyes, struggling to keep my composure the best way I

could. I didn't do anything wrong, and I wasn't his. The only thing I owed him was a simple explanation

of my presence there, merely because he was an Alpha and I was living within his pack.

"I needed to discuss something with Commander Kim. It was urgent," I explained calmly.

"You looked like it was a very pleasant meeting." Draven grabbed my wrists and pulled me closer. "It

must have been a very satisfying discussion."

His unsubtle accusation drove me on the edge of irritation. A million smart-ass lines popped into my

brain. All I had to do was choose the way to talk back. Nonetheless, I decided to be better than that. I

hurriedly swung my wrists and released myself from his grip.

"Patrick is my friend. He helped me with something, and I felt better and relieved after we talked. Is it

unallowed?" I asked daringly.

"You call him Patrick?!" Draven scoffed, "Well, I shouldn't be surprised. You acted very "friendly" around

your "friend" at the welcome party as well…"

"What is that supposed to mean?!" I snapped.

"I ignored how you threw yourself at him and made a fool of me, but going into his tent at night is

something entirely different!" he roared.

I stared at him in disbelief. The blood was flowing wildly in my veins with my heart pumping it at a mad

rate. I didn't know whether to scream, slap him, or burst out into hysteric laughter.

"You are insane, Draven." I shot him a vicious glare and walked past him, heading back to the mansion.

He rushed in front of me and blocked my way. "You didn't explain yourself yet," he said, gritting his

teeth.

I couldn't tell how I managed to shove my anger into the furthest corner of my mind, or how I exhaled

instead of punching him, but my brain had turned to the highest level of maturity, deterring me from

exploding.

"What is your problem?" I frowned, crossing my arms over my chest. "I went to Patrick's tent to talk to

him. I wanted to know what happened in the vampires' territory, and he didn't want to discuss those

issues in front of everyone. That was the only reason I met him inside his tent. Satisfied?"

"Did you ask him about your precious King? Were you so worried about him that you had to go to that

bloodsucker's tent begging him for information?" he sneered.

My jaw dropped. Draven was pushing me beyond my limits. I was seconds away from ignoring the

huge "Don't piss off the Alpha" warning sign inside my head. I was boiling in fury. My tongue became

sharp and ready to spit venom.

"Do you hate all the vampires or Sariel in particular?” I glowered at him. “For your information, Patrick

is a half-vampire, and I don't know if he ever tasted blood once in his entire life! Moreover, you should

have thought about your hatred before you signed the truce, and you got yourself the Royal Army's

help!" I burst out.

"I would hate everyone who laid their hands on you!" he thundered. "You are my mate! You are mine!"

His harsh tone made my chest ache. He made it sound as if I became his possession. Again… I

became nothing more than a thing, some pricy trophy. I truly despised the taste of it. I laughed bitterly,

mocking my idealistic imagination.

"And that gives you the right to tell me that I can't get close to my friend while you can meet Jetta in

your room in the middle of the night?"

He froze, proving that his relationship with the golden-eyed she-wolf was suspicious, to say the least. I

exhaled while an ironic smile formed on my lips.

"And now you are silent? No explanation?" I scoffed.

He growled, stepping close enough for me to feel his body radiate feverish heat.

"In case you forgot, I'm the Alpha. I lead this pack. If any wolf has a problem, it is my job to hear him or

her out, even in the middle of the night. I don't think I need to explain myself to you about the way I

handle my pack," he hissed.

That hurt. Only a few hours ago, I thought that he cherished me as a potential partner. The way he held

my hand at the meeting made me feel that he needed me. Now I felt used. I was close to tears.

"Screw you, Draven!" I snarled, pushing him away. "Do you think that I will be your mate just because

you keep talking about my destiny?!"

"You ARE my mate."

"I don't feel that I am," I said, lowering my voice.

My words put out the fire in his eyes and an instant injected fright into his expression. He flinched,

making me puzzled, and filling me with restlessness.

"Please, don't say that…" he muttered. "I don't know what I would do if you rejected me…"

He hesitantly reached out his hands and then embraced me gently. I didn't push him away. A strange

mix of confusion and guilt surfaced in my heart. I suddenly recalled Ezra's eyes when he talked about

the mate he lost. Once I looked into Draven's eyes, I saw the same genuine pain, as if he had already

lost me. My heart squeezed, aching for him. I didn't want to be the cause of his pain. How could I

condemn anyone, making him heartbroken for eternity? If I could switch my heart to love Draven,

perhaps Sariel was still able to find love. It could have taken him years, but he could fall for someone

once more, someone better than me. As far as I knew, werewolves were never given second chances

to find their mates. The problem was… my heart had Sariel's name deeply engraved, and I couldn't just

ignore it. I couldn't sacrifice myself just to save someone from heartache either…

I leaned back to see his whole face. "Draven…" I took a deep breath. "I don't feel the mate-bond, and This text is © NôvelDrama/.Org.

you know that I don't."

"Lilith, I-"

"Shhh." I put my hand to his mouth. "If you want me to accept you as my mate, you have to make me

feel something for you." My hand went down from his mouth to the place of his heart. "You have to

show me that you care about me."

His eyes brightened. I could hear his heart speeding up. He heaved a sigh and pulled me closer,

grabbing the back of my head and burying it in his broad chest. He then wrapped his arms around me,

making sure I wouldn't escape from him.

"I'm crazy for you, Lilith," he breathed anxiously. "I do and say crazy shit because I don't know how to

make you mine… Forgive me… Don't reject me." His almost pleading voice ripped my heart open.

"Then… do and say less crazy shit," I chuckled softly, slightly rubbing my cheek against his chest, "and

I think I could give us a chance then."

"I promise I'll try," he purred sensually and kissed the crown of my head.


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