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Morning sunlight slipped quietly through the curtains, casting soft golden lines across the tangle of sheets.
Weslee stirred beneath them, her limbs heavy and pleasantly sore—a lingering echo of last night’s unexpected intimacy.
She reached blindly for her pajamas, which had been tossed carelessly onto the floor hours ago, not yet aware of the warm body still lying beside her.
The moment she shifted, strong arms circled her waist, pulling her gently but firmly back against the mattress.
“Stay in bed,” came Alpha Shawn’s husky voice, low and rough from sleep, brushing against the shell of her ear.
She blinked awake, confused. Shawn? Still here?
That wasn’t like him—not even a little.
“I’m hungry,” Weslee murmured, carefully lifting his hand from her waist.
