Page 117 of Heroes & Hitmen
The gnawing ache in my shoulder is also a pretty solid indication.
I open my eyes to the silvery-pink half-light of dawn leaking through the window, the city just starting to wake up outside. There’s a warm weight splayed across my chest, a slender arm draped over my ribs, bare skin pressed to mine from collarbone to thigh. The scent of freesia and vanilla– my favorite brand of addiction– wraps around me, grounding me in the moment.
I’m not alone.
Miley is here, exactly where she belongs.
With me, in our bed.
She’s curled up halfway on top of me, the side of her face smushed against my shoulder, long lashes fanning over her cheeks. Her hair is a golden snarl against my bicep, her left leg thrown over both of mine. I just stare at her for a minute, fighting the urge to touch, not wanting to wake her.
Then she sighs, and I feel iteverywhere.
Unable to resist, I slide a hand up her back, gently sweeping a few rogue strands of hair away from her face. She blinks awake, lids fluttering like she’s annoyed to be summoned by reality. Thenshe meets my gaze with those stunning violet-grey eyes and for a second, neither of us moves.
“Hey,” I rasp.
She blinks, a faint smile curling her lips. “You’re up,” she whispers sleepily.
I dip my chin in a nod. “You’re here,” I say, my voice scraping out roughly from my dry throat.
Her smile dissolves on a dime. A little crease forms between her brows, a haunted expression coming over her face. “Where else would I be?”
“I wasn’t sure,” I admit, swallowing thickly. “My memory after the challenge is a little hazy.”
Miley shifts to prop herself up against my chest, the sheet slipping down her back to bare one perfect shoulder and the soft curve of her hip. “You almostdied, Ares,” she says, her voice strained. “One minute you were standing, and the next…” she trails off, gaze lingering on the pulse point in my throat like she’s been watching it all night.
“Did I pass out?” I ask with a wince.
She nods solemnly.
“Well shit,” I sigh, pain flaring in my shoulder as I lift an arm to card my fingers through my hair. “There goes my street cred.”
She huffs a soft little laugh. “You never had street cred, Raines.”
“Did too,” I protest. “I’m supposed to be a big bad Alpha wolf, not some wimp that passes out from a few scratches.”
Miley arches a brow, giving me a hard look. “You wouldn’t have almost bled out if it was just a few scratches.”
I heave another sigh, blinking up at the ceiling. My memories of last night are pretty blurred, but I try to sift through them the best I can, slowly piecing everything together. “How did we get home?”
“Some giant named Drake claimed you two were friends, and I couldn’t turn down the muscle,” she answers. “He carried you to your truck, drove us back here, then checked your injuries and tucked you in.”
“Oh god,” I groan, scrubbing a hand over my face and trying not to wince at the pain sizzling from my shoulder.
“I’m kidding,” she says with a smirk. “About tucking you in, I mean. The rest is true.”
I grin. “Soyoutucked me in?”
She smiles faintly, fingers tracing over the fading bruises on myribs. “Drake told me that just being close would help you heal faster. That it’s a fated mates thing.”
“Told you we were fated,” I tease.
“Too soon, asshole,” she grumbles, flicking my ear.
I chuckle to myself, settling back into the pillows. “So, what now?”
“What do you mean?”
