In the car, Adrian sat in the rear seat, his arm wrapped protectively around Ash. Ash's head rested against his shoulder, his face flushed, his breaths shallow and uneven. Adrian held him firmly but gently, his jaw set, anger still simmering beneath the surface.
"Don't drive home," Adrian said quietly, his voice low but his commanding. "Take us to the penthouse."
Bravin's hands tightened slightly on the wheel. In the rearview mirror, he caught sight of his young master's face; stern, eyes burning with both furry and worry. Then his gaze shifted to Ash, trembling faintly in Adrian's hold, looking small and fragile under the streetlights flashing past.
Bravin exhaled through his nose, keeping his thoughts to himself, but his grip on the wheel grew steadier. Whatever had happened back there, he knew it had cut deep.
When they reached the penthouse, Adrian stepped out first. Without hesitation, he leaned back into the car and lifted Ash into his arms.
