Chapter 23
I thought I’d be too frustrated to sleep, but I must have drifted off anyway. Because when I dragged myself out of dreamland hours later, I could feel someone hovering above my head. Someone not Sebastien but existing within my mate’s most personal space nonetheless.
The urge to protect our lair woke me faster than a shot of espresso mixed with sugar-high-inducing chocolate milk.
Despite my jolt into wakefulness, though, I was cautious as I eased one hand down along my body beneath the covers, searching for the knife strapped around one jeans-clad thigh. Meanwhile, my nostrils quivered, seeking evidence of who my invader might be. Was this a SHRITA agent boldly disobeying presidential orders, or was it a werewolf I’d angered during the several months I’d spent in this neck of
