Hazel Moreau
I woke up disoriented, my body aching in places I hadn’t even realized could ache. Every inch of me felt heavy and satisfied in a way that was unfamiliar, my thoughts swirling like they were caught in fog.
And then it hit me. The scent.
It was everywhere, rich and unmistakable, filling my nose and my lungs with a mixture of my own scent and someone else’s. Warm. Masculine. Powerful.
An alpha.
My heart stumbled.
I shifted and realized a broad arm was slung across my waist. My breath caught. Carefully, I eased myself away, lifting his arm just enough so I could slip out from under it without waking him.
But as soon as I moved, he stirred.
His dark hair was tousled, his eyes half-lidded as he looked up at me, and my eyes widened in shock as I recognized those dark eyes.
