The scent reaches me a moment later, wrapping around me like a second skin. Amber wood. Warm and dark and everywhere.
Moon.
His arm tightens around my waist, pulling me closer, eliminating the small space between us. Then I feel it—his lips against my ear, warm breath ghosting over my skin.
"Where are you going?"
His voice is low, teasing, a velvet murmur in the dim hallway.
I don't argue. I don't have the strength. The day has drained me hollow, left me with nothing but exhaustion and the need for silence.
I take a deep breath. Let it out slow.
"Moon." My voice is flat, tired.
"Leave me alone."
He doesn't let go. Instead, he pulls me closer still, my back pressing against his chest, his warmth seeping through my clothes. His chin rests on my shoulder.
"How rude," he murmurs, and I can hear the smirk in his voice.
"You're only worried about that Omega. You've completely forgotten about your cousin."
A pause, dripping with theatrical hurt.
"I'm wounded."
