Morgan groaned and gripped his head in an attempt to make the room stop spinning. When he opened his eyes, he saw the moonlight trickling in through the window beside him. Everything else was a haze—a painful, throbbing haze. From the lingering smell of clove incense, he knew he was in his own room. But how? Last thing he remembered, he had been kissing another man outside of Beacon Inn. He opened his eyes when he remembered the stranger’s teeth. The gorgeous, white-haired man he’d seen in his bathroom mirror had been there, too. A shudder ran through Morgan. He realized he was only wearing his boxers and sat up quickly, only to collapse once more onto the bed, the room spinning anew.
“I don’t know what he gave you, but the effects should wear off soon.”
Morgan froze. “Who are you? What
