VIII

I slept peacefully. Possibly the most peaceful sleep I could remember. My room was infused with the most intoxicating scent I had ever smelled, and it was attempting to lull me back to sleep. I buried my face deeper into the pillow, thinking of how I would commend Shelby on her scent choices if we were on speaking terms.

It was familiar, and warm, but I couldn’t put my finger on what it truly was. The potent musk of man, for sure, but that would make sense - most rogues were men. Of course she would choose something masculine. But something itched at the back of my mind, begging me to place the scent.

As the fog of sleep slowly burned away from my mind, the itch became a scratch, accompanied by the pound of a headache.

A hangover headache.

I groaned to myself, the night coming back to me. He had been here. He had been here for a while, and if my memory was correct, I begged him to stay with me.

Tentatively, I reached across the bed, relief hitting when it was confirmed that I