AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I keep my eyes closed, not wanting the bright day to make things worse. With a low groan, I turn from my back to my stomach and bury my face into the pillow.
It’s only when I inhale that I realize something’s wrong. The scent that fills my nostrils isn’t mine, and the pillow is too hard for my liking. Some fancy-ass memory foam pillow instead of an expensive feathery crap that I always favored.
I slowly open my eyes, then widen them to comical proportions. The pillow cover has pink flower patterns all over it, making it so damn girly. Well, at least I didn’t end up in some old dude’s bedroom, which would probably be one of my top ten nightmares to live through.
Wake up, I order my wolf, but he only makes a yawning sound and returns to his slumber.
My ears prick up when the sound of plates comes from what I guess is the direction of the kitchen. Some machine turns on, abruptly raising the noise level up and making me wince. I grab my head, willing the pounding to stop. No such luck.
I’m not sure how much time has passed before I gather my strength and push myself to the edge of the bed. When I set my feet on the carpeted floor, I notice that my pants are gone. My Calvin Klein boxers seem untouched, and I can’t decide just yet whether that’s a good thing or not.
While I’ve been drunk so many times before that it could be counted as a nightly occurrence, I’ve never experienced a blackout. Not like the one I have now.
“Fucking Lincoln,” I mutter under my breath and gently rub the back of my neck.
My host is still in the kitchen doing who knows what. I take the opportunity to look around the room to gather as much information as I can.
The bed is queen-sized with a basic white frame. On it are a pillow and a blanket, both covered with a pink comforter full of flower patterns. The wooden wardrobe covers the whole wall. There’s a small dresser next to the bed that seems to serve as a nightstand as well. No pictures or any other personal details that I could see.
My guess is that whoever lives here is using the room only for sleeping. While the bedroom has no sign of being a spot for an occasional hookup, the rest of the apartment might be different. At least, I think I’m in an apartment.
Before I can push myself off the bed, the door to the bedroom opens. The scent of fried sausages and eggs hits me before I get a glimpse of a wooden tray. My stomach grumbles loudly, announcing its emptiness to my host.
A beautiful blonde girl walks in, her face lit up with a wide smile that’s undoubtedly a reaction to my hunger. She’s petite and short enough that even sitting on the bed, we’re nearly the same height.
“Good morning,” she says with a lovely voice, her rather large but very green eyes locking onto mine. Something warm washes over me when the connection is made, and I can’t bring myself to look away. There’s something mesmerizing about her.
“I made you breakfast,” she says when I don’t reply and holds out the tray.
My stomach makes another loud sound and I have no choice but to acknowledge it. Taking the tray from her, I give her a tentative smile. “Thank you.”
“How do you feel?” she asks after I settle on the bed with the tray in my lap and my back pressed against its frame.
“Hungover,” I reply, unsure how to describe my rather worrisome condition to a human. “It looks like I have some holes in my memory.”
“I might not be the best person to fill them, but I can give it a try,” she offers and tilts her head to the side, giving me an expectant look.
I bring a piece of sausage to my mouth, enjoying its delicious taste for all of two seconds before my stomach turns and twists. My face must’ve turned green with nausea because the girl’s eyes widen, and she puts a hand on my shoulder.
“Breathe through it,” she orders with a voice that’s calm but full of authority. “Slow and steady.”
She mimics the breathing, taking a deep breath in and then slowly exhaling it. Focusing on her green eyes, I follow her lead, riding out the wave of nausea.
“Better?” she asks when I lean my head back against the frame and groan.
“Not really,” I reply then try to push the tray away, but she puts her hand on mine, stopping me.
“You need to eat something,” she tells me. “You’ll feel better when you get some food in your stomach.”
“I think it’s the exact opposite, but you seem like you know what you’re talking about,” I reply, and though I’m referring to her being a human, her nod in agreement catches me by surprise.
“It’s one of the first things I learned in med school,” she says, which explains her reaction. “How did you know I’m a doctor?”
“Lucky guess?” I offer, not wanting to tell her that I had no idea. Before she questions me further, I decide to change the topic. “What’s your name?”
“You don’t remember,” she says, making it sound more like a statement than a question. She tilts her head to the side, her brows furrowing ever so slightly as she gives me an assessing look. “I’m Doctor Helia Payne, and you’re Grayden.”
“That’s right,” I confirm, trying to hide my surprise at the fact that I’ve shared it with a human. “Where am I? How did I get here?”
