Elaria His expression changes immediately as he withdraws. “No.” I blink. “Oh, come on, Alaric.” Why do I have the terrible luck of always meeting the most stubborn and difficult of men? “No?” “You’re in no condition to drive yourself, Elaria.” His voice is softer now, and it does things to my insides. That somehow annoys me more. “I am perfectly capable of driving.” “You’re pregnant. And wounded too.” I stare at him. “Yes, I noticed. But you’re not in any better condition. Come on, Alaric, let me try driving. We can swap if I start to feel incapable or if the pain becomes unbearable.” “You can’t deny that your pain almost caused that accident just now,” I add, not to poke him but to convince him. He looks away. “Fuck.” I watch him run his good hand through his hair. The movement is frustrated and tired. “We should have brought Evander.” I raise my eyebrows. “Evander?” “Yes.” “What exactly would Evander have done?” “Driven.” I stare at him, then gesture toward the ro
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