Chapter Seven

Drea rolled hard in her bed, the grumbling in her stomach refusing to subside. Usually, she wasn't one to wake up in the middle of the night to develop some night craving but for some reason, this night was different. She had tried sleeping over and over. She tried slamming her face with the pillow but no matter how hard she tried, nothing worked. She needed to eat and she needed some food now. She rose from the bed, staring blankly at her wall. She could ask Cole, who was always stationed by her door to get her some food but for some reason, she didn't want to.

She yanked the sheets off her bed and hurried across her floor and towards the doorway. She pulled her door open and walked out. Before she could take a few steps, the door right across the hallway opened and Come popped his shiny head out.

"Ms. Corrigan?" He called, the worry in his voice translating almost immediately to his face.

"It's fine. I'm just going to get some food." Drea responded.

"Then I'll come with you." Cole responded. He pushed his door open even further and walked out, only in a black bathrobe.

"Cole, it's the middle of the night. Do you really think I'm going to risk trying to escape again?"

"You've done it before. Nothing's stopping you from doing it again a second time."

"That's wrong." Drea responded. "A lot is stopping me."

"I'm coming with you." Cole said anyway, folding his arms over his chest.

"I'm only going down the stairs to get some food. I promise. It's fine."

Cole narrowed his eyes at her. "You have ten minutes. I don't see you back up here, I won't wait for Logan to kill you. I'll do it myself."

"Jesus." Drea whispered, watching Cole retreat back into his room. "The way everyone throws the word murder around here is just insane."

She herself is only in her white dress, floating down the hallway like a princess—or a ghost. She walked to the staircase and made her way down the stairs. The cold around the palace pierced her skin and for a moment, she thought of going back to get one of the coats in her closet but decided against it. Cole wouldn't let her out again. Instead, she wrapped her hands around her body and made her way to the kitchen—or at least what she assumed to be the kitchen because she could see an island filled with kitchen essentials.

She couldn't find anything so she made her way to the dining room. Some food and some fruits lay on the table, all leftovers from whatever dinner had occured before. She hurried to the table and grabbed a few slices of fried kean meat. She threw them into her mouth, savoring the sweet goodness of the meat.

A feminine voice froze her in place as she reached for one of the fruits in the bowl.

"Well, who do we have here?" The voice called, bolting her feet to the ground. Drea swallowed and turned around ever so slowly. She came face to face with an older woman in a white gown, a bit similar to hers but silkier and shinier.

"I'm sorry, i just needed some food and—" Drea started, gesturing to this dining table. "This was right there."

The woman standing before Drea narrowed her eyes. "You're the girl, aren't you? You're the Westside girl."

Drea nodded.

"So he hasn't killed you yet." The woman continued, looking Drea from head to toe. "Now that is incredibly surprising."

A frown appeared on Drea's face. "I'm sorry, I don't know who you are."

The woman stared her down again, the most disdainful expression resting on her face. "And why should that be my problem?"

Drea nodded. "I'm sorry."

"You Westside wolves always think you're all that. When in reality, this is all you should ever be entitled to." The woman continued, stretching her hand towards the table Drea had been eating from. "Leftovers."

Drea swallowed again, trying not to let her words get to her.

"I don't know why my son let you live, but I hope whatever it is, is as painful as anything. I hope you people fully pay for what you did."

A mild frown appeared on Drea's face again. "What we did?"

"Do not interrupt me again when I speak." The woman's voice was clear, deep and commanding. Drea didn't know much about this woman but two things were obvious. She was Logan's mother and she had some kind of unwarranted hatred for Drea.

"Lady Brianna?" Cole's voice called from the doorway of the dining hall. "Is she bothering you?"

Lady Brianna turned to Cole and then back to Drea again, the cunning smile still resting on her face. "she will be if I continue to look at her more than I have to."

Drea watched Lady Brianna turn away from her and head out of the dining hall. Cole moved out of the way for her and reentered the doorway when she left. Drea grabbed a few more lean meats and some fruits before heading out as well.

"What the hell was that?" Drea asked, waking beside Cole as they both make their way towards the stairs.

"That was Lady Brianna Frost. Logan's mother." Cole explained, his voice monotonous.

"Yeah, I gathered that all right." Drea responded, her voice dropping to the barest it could be. "And I thought Logan was the cold one."