Donavan
He had fed Aria carefully, avoiding spilling any of the soup on her or the bed. It was more than a shock to him that he would even be doing this. He had never fed anyone before, not even his father before he died. Not that he wouldn’t do it if his father had asked, it was just the fact he never thought to do so. Yet, here he was feeding his female her dinner in bed. If his mother could see him now, she would fall out giggling and go on a rampage about how he would make a good husband. She was so weak from the poison in her body that she couldn’t possibly hold the spoon steady in her hand on her own, so feeding her was the best way to ensure that she would eat. Unfortunately, he had spilled some on her at the first attempt on her chin.
“Donavan,” she cried, wiping the broth jui
