[Third Person].
Draven did not rise when Dennis entered.
He remained seated, one ankle resting over his knee, posture relaxed, but his eyes sharpened the moment the heavy bag was placed on the floor between them.
He didn’t even need to ask questions or make guesses about the contents of the bag as the clinking, jingling sounds of the coins reached his ears, followed by the familiar iron scent.
At the same time, Wanda stepped forward as though nothing were amiss, her expression carefully composed, her lips curving into a polite, almost nostalgic smile.
"Draven," she greeted warmly. "It’s been a while."
Dennis took a step back, his arms crossing over his chest, clearly enjoying himself.
Draven inclined his head slightly. There was no smile or warmth radiating from him. "Wanda. Why have you come?"
She clasped her hands together and found a seat for herself. "I heard about your mate’s event," she said smoothly. "I thought it would be appropriate to come and show a little support as your friend."
Draven’s gaze flicked to her face, then to the bag, and finally back to her face. His meaning was clear as day.
"I don’t believe you," he said calmly.
Wanda’s expression faltered for only half a breath. "Excuse me?"
"You don’t just come unannounced, even arriving with servants carrying a bag that heavy," Draven continued with an even and controlled voice. "So, tell me why you are here."
Dennis snorted under his breath.
Wanda turned slightly toward the bag as if noticing it for the first time. "Oh—that?" She waved a dismissive hand. "It’s nothing. Just some money."
Draven’s jaw tightened as he watched her carefree actions.
"I know how important money is to the common folk," Wanda went on, tone gentle, reasonable. "I assumed your mate would appreciate some additional support to whatever she had planned. After all, events like these can be costly."
"No," Draven said flatly.
The word landed hard, forcing Wanda to blink.
"There is no need," Draven continued. "When you leave, you will take your money with you."
Wanda groaned disappointedly, but inside, her smile shattered. ’Nothing and no one will stop me today from achieving my aim,’ she thought coldly.
But outwardly, her shoulders slumped. "I see," she murmured, her voice suddenly subdued. "You are still angry with me."
Dennis rolled his eyes, already used to Wanda’s emotional schemes. But he was confident his brother wouldn’t fall for it.
On the other hand, Wanda caught Dennis’s eye roll and ignored him. Instead, she looked directly at Draven. "I know I disappointed you. I know I hurt you with my past actions." Her voice softened further. "I’m sorry."
Draven felt Rhovan stir. "Lies," his wolf warned quietly. "I don’t smell any repentance in her."
But unknown to Wanda that her heart and plans had been burst, she pressed on. "That’s why I stayed away these past weeks. I needed time to reflect deeply." Then, she placed a hand over her chest. "I regret many things. I have changed."
Draven studied her the way one studied a blade—checking for cracks, weakness, and hidden edges.
’I highly doubt that,’ he said internally, still keeping a calm façade.
"I’m not asking you to trust me immediately," Wanda added. "You can take your time to observe me. You will see—I would never betray you again."
That was when Dennis stepped forward. "You know," he said pleasantly, "you could win an award for this performance."
Wanda stiffened. After the efforts she put into her confession, that big mouth had to ruin the atmosphere.
"Best actress. Lifetime achievement," Dennis continued. "You are really committed to the role."
Her jaw clenched. "Must you always be insufferable?"
Dennis grinned. "Only to people with twisted hearts."


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