“How’s your head?” Arran teased at some ungodly hour after the activities of the night before. I released a feral hiss, altering my teeth and vocal cords, only to groan in agony when it aggravated my hangover. Arran was suddenly too close, his nose skimming up my ear to embed itself in my hair. “Hmm, you smell.. Hungover.” He breathed, and I shoved at him, missing completely and managing to topple myself from the bed.
“Oh Gods..” I moaned, clinging to the floor as my head pounded. “You are a curse on women and Shifters everywhere.” I complained, my voice barely above a whisper.
“That’s not what you thought last night.” Arran replied smugly. I opened my eyes a slit. At least the world had stopped spinning and my head was not pounding so loudly. I looked at Arran on the bed with one ankle
