Aalyan
Waking up in Ghian’s arms had become a pleasure he relished every time, clinging to his mate even when he knew the alpha had responsibilities with the pack. Ghian always gave in, letting Aalyan have him for a few more minutes until he could grudgingly accept the need for verticality and clothes. Then they’d get up and break their fasts together.
That morning, Aalyan curled up close as usual, his body much wiser than his mind would ever be. It wasn’t until he allowed Ghian out of his arms, groaning at the cold left behind, that he started to wake up enough to remember. First came the sense memory of being inside Ghian, the way he’d been received and enveloped in his heat, how his mate had bared his throat in surrender and moaned his name with abandon. Then came the rest.
Strangely
