59

When I wake up, my head is aching from sleeping so much, but my muscles are refreshed and energized in a way I've never experienced before.

I feel good. Very good.

But something is missing.

Last night, I fell asleep curled up in Dog's protective arms, my body wrapped in the warmth of his breath. Now I'm alone and naked.

Dog is gone, but his scent still hangs heavy in the air.

I roll over and look around the room.

The hot sun is streaming low through the cracks in the closed windows, making golden streaks on the walls. I can see the room more clearly now, but there's not much to appreciate - the moss-covered floors and peeling, stained walls. The ceiling is sagging precariously where the beams have rotted. Glittering specks of dust swirl lazily in the sunlight.

My Alpha is standing at the window looking out, his intense eyes streaked with sunlight. Your body is still except for the slow rise and fall of your breathing.

"Dog?" I whisper.

He doesn't look at me, but simply brings a finger