Made in Moonlight

Sixteen

When I wake up, my head is pounding, and my stomach turns. My arm feels heavy, and I squint my eyes open through my migraine to find Blake lying next to me, my arm pinned under his pillow.

I blink at him for a moment, trying to remember what happened last night, but it's foggy.

I remember sneaking out with Leyla, going to the pack party, and then...

Oh. There was a man. My face turns hot as I remember his body against me. It had felt strange...wrong, but with alcohol flowing through my veins, it was easy to ignore and focus on the pounding of music.

And then, Blake was there.

I look down at his sleeping face and take a moment to appreciate his long lashes and smooth cheekbones. I could spend forever just lying here, watching him.

Except, my head is killing me.

Luckily, my personal cure-all is lying right here next to me.

I shift, sliding closer until my leg presses against his. Almost instantly, my headache fades and the nausea subsides.

He grumbles a little and I freeze. Please don't wake up. I hold my breath, watching as his eyelids flutter, but don't open.

Instead, he moves an inch closer, his arm moving to wrap around my waist. I release a breath of relief, my headache practically vanishing, replaced with pure bliss. Even after lying next to each other all night, his touch still has this effect on me.

"Clover," he murmurs.

My pulse stutters.

I want to hear it again, my name on his raspy, morning voice.

I stay as still as possible, waiting for him to settle back into the mattress. His fingers grip the small of my back, grazing a sliver of skin where my shirt has ridden up.

Just when I think he's about to drift off again, his eyes blink open.

The air is sucked out of my lungs as his icy eyes meet mine. I blink at him, waiting to see if he'll move away like I have the plague, or roll right out of bed to get away from me. Except, he doesn't.

His grip on my back tightens, and he tugs me closer as he fights through a yawn.

"You smell like someone else," he says, his voice thick with sleep.

I frown, unsure how to respond to that. "Sorry?"

He says nothing, just rubs his hand over my back, holding me tight against his chest. Here, Blake's scent is strong, and I realize what he's trying to do—get rid of that stranger's smell on me.

I'm not sure if I should blush or push him away.

"How do you feel?" he asks once he's done rubbing my back.

It takes a second for me to process his words because what? Who is this man and where is my mate?

"Fine," I sputter out. I pause, frowning. "Well, not fine. My head hurts and I think I might puke."

"Hangover," he says sighing. "I don't know what Leyla was thinking, giving you that much to drink."

"She didn't know," I say, defending her.

Blake says nothing, just shuts his eyes and holds me for a few minutes longer. I let him, savoring the feeling of his body so close to mine. I don't want to ruin...whatever this is.

I don't know what changed in him overnight, but I'm not going to question it. I want to stay here, in his arms, for as long as he'll let me.

It's definitely a bonus that this bed is so comfortable. Looking around the room in daylight, it's even bigger than I thought. I can't believe he's been living here by himself.