#Chapter130
Lana’s POV
Waking up, Drake had his arm draped over my waist. I get up swinging my legs over the side of the bed, Drake falling forward with a groan as I moved. Getting up, I rummage through the drawers. I grab a pair of tights out and one of Tate’s shirts. I slip them on and pull my hair in a bun, hoping Tate was in a better mood today. Walking downstairs, I find he wasn’t even here.
Drake sleepily walking down the stairs before sitting at the table and placing his head on it, tiredly as he yawned.
/"What time is it?/" He asks as I flick the kettle on. I look to the clock on the wall.
/"A little after 10/" I tell him a little shocked myself with how late in the morning it was.
/"Tate gone?/" He asks, looking around and I shrug, preparing the two cups and putting the milk in while I wait for the kettle to boil. I grab a loaf of bread out when I am hit with Tate’s rage through the bond.