I blinked awake, feeling the familiar weight of exhaustion pulling at my limbs as the morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room.
The events of the last few days had drained me completely, leaving me in a state of constant unease and alertness.
And as my eyes were able to finally adjust, I became aware of a figure nearby. It was then that I noticed that it was actually Daemon, stretched out on the couch near my bed, and still sound asleep.
His usually sharp features were softened in slumber, his face devoid of its usual guarded expression. He looked almost peaceful.
A sense of surprise washed over me. Daemon Alexandrov, the notorious alpha king of the Demontail pack, sleeping in my room like some kind of a sleepy guardian angel. It felt surr
