I shiver slightly as my body slowly comes to consciousness, my eyes scanning the room to see the sunshine falling in through the open window curtains. This morning, the bed felt colder than usual, and my hands search for the warmth Tate always brings. Worried, I turn around to face Tate's side of the bed, only to notice him gone and—judging by how cold his side of the bed is—he's been gone a while.
Frowning, I slowly sit up, my body sore once again from spending the night with my mate. Wrapping the blanket around my naked body, I search for any clue that my mate might have left indicating his whereabouts when I spy the note folded neatly on his pillow.
With a soft smile, I pick up the note and carefully unfold the paper to see Tate's neat handwriting on display. The note tells me t
