Ryah sucked in a sharp breath before he could get himself under control when Kane offered his wrist. Even just the mere thought of Drake touching that complete asshole, much less drinking from him--it didn't sit well with the hunter. In fact, he fucking<i>hated</i>it. He hated it almost as much as the fact that he knew that Kane knew. There was no way he'd been able to stifle his reaction in time and the demon was probably loving this.<br/><br/>The next thing he knew, the hunter had turned his back to Kane, refusing to meet his eyes. He snagged Drake by the wrist, his dark blue eyes catching Drake's. He had no words, no reason, nothing to even say. His mind was a complete and utter blank and all he felt was a stifling sense of wrongness. Ryah didn't understand why he cared at all. It was Drake's life, it was his choice, and the hunter had no idea what he was even doing but. He just didn't like it. He didn't know what he was asking, but every fiber of his being was saying<i>no, don't do this</i>.<br/><br/>He waited, hardly daring to breathe as he wondered what Drake would do. He could feel the tension ramping up in the room, his own body going taut. Deep down, he couldn't help but think that maybe it was better this way. What was he even offering? He was a hunter, he wasn't supposed to be offering himself up on a silver platter. But...not Kane. Just...no.