The bed dips beneath me, soft and unfamiliar. I sit on the edge, my back straight, my hands resting at my sides, staring at nothing.
Exhausted. Helpless. Trapped in the warm, amber-scented quiet of my own inner suite.
Moon's head rests on my lap.
Sleeping. Like a child curled in his mother's arms. His blue lashes fan against his cheeks, his lips slightly parted, his breathing slow and even.
Peaceful. Innocent.
Innocent.
The word feels wrong attached to him.
What did he mean?
'I like your scent.'
I turn the moment over in my mind, examining it from every angle. When he said those words, there was no tease in his eyes.
No cruelty. No anger.
Just... something I can't name.
Something raw. Something real.
I look down at him slowly, my gaze tracing the sharp line of his jaw softened by sleep, the way his brow is smooth, untroubled. The room is thick with his amber wood pheromones—they surround me, wrap around me, sink into my skin.
Soothing. Calming. Comforting.
