Chapter 310
Meredith.
The morning air was crisp, cool enough to sting a little against my skin as I adjusted the hem of my training top.
The field stretched wide and quiet, mist curling lazily along the edges of the grass.
Draven stood in front of me, arms folded, his presence as steady as always. Only today… something was different.
His long black hair was tied up in a bun, right in the middle of his head.
I narrowed my eyes, unable to stop staring. Why in the world would he-
“I can see you are staring at my hair,” Draven said smoothly, his gaze locking onto mine. “You don’t like it?”
I scrunched my nose. “What motivated you to put your hair up like a woman?”
A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest, his lips curling at the edges. “This is how today fell out,” he said casually. “I didn’t want my hair getting in the way while I’m training you.”
I gave him an irritated look, tilting my head in disbelief. Of all the ways he could have tied it, why like that?
Draven’s chuckle grew richer, clearly entertained by my reaction. “Does it bother you that much?”
I nodded without hesitation, expecting–hoping–he would take the hint and repack it lower, the way men usually did, neat at the base of
the neck.
But to my dismay, he only raised a brow and leaned slightly closer.
“Good,” he said, voice edged with amusement. “I like that it bothers you.”
My mouth parted. “What?”
“At least it will keep you distracted during training,” he went on, smirking now. “And when you fail… I will have every reason to punish
you.”
My eyes widened, heat rushing to my cheeks, half from irritation, half from the dangerous gleam in his gaze.
I clenched my lips together, resisting the urge to roll my eyes at him.
Trust Draven to turn something as simple as a ridiculous hairstyle into a weapon against me.
If I had known this would be how he styled his hair this morning, I wouldn’t have left his chambers for mine to get ready for training.
I would have had Azul or the others bring my training clothes into his bedroom instead.
I inhaled deeply, trying to steady myself, but every time my eyes flicked back to his head, the sight of that absurd bun made my chest
tighten in equal parts annoyance and disbelief.
Draven must have noticed, because the smug tilt of his mouth hadn’t left.
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<310 Draven’s Hair in a Bun
“Focus, Meredith, he said, stepping back into position, his stance wide and ready. “Unless you are planning to lose before we even start.
I clenched my fists. “I am focused.”
“Prove it.”
The moment he moved, I barely had time to react. His palm cut through the air, aiming for my shoulder, I ducked, but it was too late–his
hand grazed me.
A smirk tugged at his lips as he drew back. “Distracted already.”
I bit down on my lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a retort. I lunged at him this time, striking quickly and sharply, but he
blocked effortlessly, his arm like a steel wall.
He didn’t even shift his feet.
The bun wobbled slightly as he tilted his head, and that stupid detail pulled my attention for a split second.
And that was all he needed.
In a blur, his hand shot forward, catching my wrist, spinning me around. Before I knew it, my back was against his chest, his arm braced
across me, pinning me with ease.
“You are too slow,” he murmured in my ear, his voice low and deliberate. “And too distracted.”
Heat flared in my cheeks again. “It’s because of that ridiculous hair,” I snapped, struggling against him.
Draven chuckled, his breath warm against my temple. “Excuses, excuses.”
He freed me suddenly, and I stumbled forward a step before spinning to face him. ‘Is this how he treats his beloved wife?‘
His expression was calm and controlled, but his eyes sparkled with amusement and hinted at something sharper beneath.
“I told you,” he said, smirking again, “your failure gives me the chance to punish you.”
My pulse quickened at the dangerous edge in his tone. I glared up at him, chest rising and falling from the short burst of movement.
“You are enjoying this way too much.”
Draven’s smirk deepened. “Maybe. But I did warn you, didn’t I?”
Before I could speak, he stepped forward. His hand shot out and caught my chin between his fingers, tilting my face upward. My breath
hitched.
His gaze lingered on me, steady and deliberate, like he was taking his sweet time deciding how best to punish me.
Just then, he bent, brushing his lips across mine, slow but unyielding, just enough to steal my breath before pulling back.
“That,” he said in a low murmur, “is your punishment.”
My eyes widened. ‘What in the moon’s name is this hungry wolf trying to do?” “That’s not a punishment,” I managed defensively.
“Isn’t it?” His smile was dangerous, teasing. “Seems to me you are even more distracted now.”
310 Draven’s Hair in a Bon
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. My face burned hot, and I hated that he was right.
Draven didn’t allow me to recover. He struck again, swift and precise. I barely had enough time to dodge the blow to my
I twisted away, but his foot slid forward, knocking mine aside, and I nearly lost my balance before catching myself.
“Better,” he said, pacing me. “But still sloppy.”
ribs.
Gritting my teeth, I lunged forward. My fists swung–one, two, three–but each strike was blocked, every move countered. He didn’t even
break a sweat.
The bun wobbled again. I cursed myself for noticing.
In a flash, Draven grabbed my arm and swept my legs, and my back hit the ground with a hard thud against the training ground.
Then he loomed over me, calm, controlled, and maddeningly composed.
“Focus, Meredith,” he uttered firmly. “Forget my hair. Forget your irritation. Forget everything but the fight. Or you will keep ending up
on the ground.”
My breath came sharp, my pride stung, but beneath his words, there was no cruelty–just expectation and challenge.
And I realized that beneath the teasing, this was exactly what he wanted. For me to find my edge.
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