Draven's Point Of View
"What did you just say?" Lucian barked, his voice dropping an octave as his grip on Azriel's arm tightened instantly, his knuckles going white with the sudden force. Something feral had crept into his expression, the kind of look that made lesser men take a step back.
Azriel smirked, his cheek still squished flat against the warm, dark metal of the SUV. He didn't even flinch at the pain, too delighted by his own words to care. If anything, the discomfort seemed to fuel him, adding a manic edge to his grin. "You heard me, dynamic clear as day! Seraphina loves me more! I'm her very own little baby!"
Lucian hauled him harder against the hood, putting his weight behind it until the frame creaked under the pressure. The metal groaned in protest, but he didn't ease off. A vein pulsed faintly at his temple, betraying just how close he was to losing what little patience he had left. "Shut your mouth before I snap your shoulder."
