POV: Alaric
Her soft snores, which I had admired and adored while she innocently slept away, abruptly stopped.
I waited for her to open those pretty, enchanting eyes, but they were still tightly shut. She was awake. She just didn't want to face me.
A smirk tugged at my lips. I knew her too well.
I rose from the couch, making my way to the bed, and the moment I got close, her body tensed beneath the sheets. Even in feigned sleep, she was reacting to me. That alone made something dark and primal stir within me. It was barely four in the morning—I expected her not to have the strength to wake up until morning. But here she was.
I reached out, softly brushing off the messy locks of hair that framed her beautiful face, "Hey, baby..." I called in a croaked voice. "You don't have to pretend to be asleep. Open your eyes for me." My tone was softer than that of a toddler asking for ice cream from their mother for the third time in one day. Cautious.
