Chapter 13- Five of Wands (reversed)

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It is still dark outside when I wake up.

My hand reaches out on reflex to my bedside table, feeling around until it finds the familiar cool rectangle, which is my phone. I lift it towards me. Blurry eyes peer at a screen that is just a little too bright, forcing the pulsing in my head to intensify.

4 am.

I groan, releasing the phone onto my bed.

Luna stirs, stretching before sitting up. She views me curiously from her spot on the floor.

My mouth is parched. Like I am a fire-breathing dragon, parched. A glance at the bedside table disappoints me, for there is no glass of water there.

Rolling over, I move to the edge before getting up.

It takes two steps to learn I am still somewhat physically intoxicated. Mentally my mind feels tired but clear. However, my legs wobble, and I nearly stumble into the wall, my hand catching me.

Thankfully my dry eyes have been peeled open enough to note the door to my room is closed. Strange. I never shut my door. Always have I given Luna free reign of the house at night. She sleeps in my room, but still. If she gets thirsty, I want her to be able to go to the kitchen and drink up, no matter the time.

I open the door and make my way into the hall, joined by Luna's pitter-patter.

By the light of the moon seeping in through the windows, I can make my way around the kitchen, grabbing a glass and moving towards the fridge.

"Hey." A voice cuts through the silence.

My heart stops in my chest, body twisting towards the sound of the intruder, glass slipping from my hand.

The cup shattered on impact with the floor.

"Damn it!" I yell in alarm.

Lights flicker on, and I am momentarily blinded by them.

Alaric stands at the edge of the kitchen, fingers still hovering over the light switch.

My hand presses into my chest as if it can stop the heart attack going on beneath it.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I ask, voice accusatory.

Alaric chortles, "go figure you don't remember."

As my heart begins to slow into a more regular rhythm, I am better able to take in the wolf before me. My gaze dips to his bare chest before I force my attention back to his face. "Where the hell is your shirt?"

His lip curves up, amused. "You're wearing it."

I look at myself and the soft dark gray T-shirt that is very much not my own covering my body. Holy shit. Pieces of what happened begin coming back to me.

I drank with some of the wolves. We jumped into a pool in our underwear. Alaric brought me home after giving me his shirt to cover up with. I'll stay the night, he had said after making sure I made it to my bed.

My face warms.

"You have a dustpan?" A rough voice brings me back to reality, giving me something else to focus on.

"Under the sink." I turn back to the honey-brown eyes watching me from the edge of the room.

"Don't move." His words are a strict command, sending a shiver down my spine. Alaric's attention leaves me as he enters the kitchen, going to grab the dustpan. Each step he takes is silent, bringing him closer to me. And even though there is still distance between us, I can't help but sense his presence, the pressure of it following him, surrounding him, and pressing up against me.

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