Elena
Warm blankets surrounded me in the dark room where I slept. Everything smelled like whiskey and spearmint—a strange combination of scents, and yet one that was so familiar and comforting I couldn’t help but burrow down deeper into the pillows and inhale deeply.
Killian.
The name flitted through my consciousness, and with it came a sense of peace I hadn’t felt in weeks, no, years. This was my mate’s scent, my mate’s bed, my mate’s room. How many nights had I hoped, in the early days of our marriage, that he would invite me to sleep here every night? That he’d hold me after we made love instead of sending me away?
Too many. But now I was here, sleeping in his bed, surrounded by the smell of his skin…
Suddenly, as the realization hit me, my eyes snapped open.
His
