Sleeping around on<i>Drake</i>? If Ryah had been drinking anything, he would have spat it out immediately. As it was, all he could do was give Kane an incredulous, disbelieving look. "Are you joking me?" he blurted out before he could stop himself. "Sleeping around on--The fuck--That's not--" If he were of a clearer mind, he probably would have been less offended. As it was, all Ryah could feel was a ribbon of angry bitterness threading through him.<i>He </i>hadn't been the one doing the avoiding. He hadn't been the one who had dismissed the 'thing' between them before they even had a chance to talk about it. He hadn't been the one who was gone from the house practically 24-7, as if he couldn't stand to be anywhere near the hunter. The brunet didn't even realize he was voicing his resentment outloud. Kane and his little boytoy were the<i>last </i>people he would have wanted to admit anything to.<br/><br/>He made to shove past Kane and head out the door. Ryah had no idea where he wanted to go but he knew home wasn't it. And he certainly wasn't in the mood for clubbing or trying to find someone anymore. Eden and his twisted game had seen to that. "You're all the same," he spat out. "All you guys do is play games, fuck around with people's heads and minds. So if you'd be so kind as to leave me the hell alone, I'd appreciate that." The hunter didn't know why but he was feeling tired. Emotionally drained from everything that had happened. From his worry over his sister, to the vampire coven that seemed intent on raising hell, to the untenable situation with Drake, and now this fucked up whatever-this-was with these two. It was enough to drive a man to an early grave.