HAZEL
For the rest of the day, we stayed tangled in the sheets, bodies still humming from earlier, lazy and unhurried. Afternoon light crept through the slats of the blinds in thin golden bars, painting stripes across his bare chest and my thigh draped over his hip. We barely moved except to shift closer, his fingers tracing idle patterns along my spine, my lips brushing the scar on his shoulder whenever I turned my head. Time slipped away in murmurs and laughter, in the slow drag of fingertips and the occasional stolen kiss that started sweet and ended breathless.
I learned more about him in those quiet hours than I had in all the weeks before. He told me about the night he left his old pack, how the Iron Fang Alpha had started chaining rogues to “keep order,” how he had slipped his bon
