A smile tugs at my lips before I can stop it. Seeing her in his clothes—it does something to me. Marks her as ours.
“Hey,” she whispers, coming closer.
“Hey, Sunshine. Couldn’t sleep?”
She shakes her head, wincing slightly as she sits next to me. “Headache. It’s a dull throb right behind my eyes.”
I lean forward, grabbing the bottle of aspirin from the coffee table and a bottle of water from the mini-fridge nearby. I shake two pills into my palm and hand them to her.
“Here. Drink.”
She downs them obediently, washing the tablets back with half the bottle. “Thanks.”
I brush a stray lock of hair behind her ear, letting my fingers linger against her warm skin. “Why are you up? It’s late.”
She sighs, leaning her head on my shoulder. “I couldn’t turn my brain off. Too much noise in there.” She taps her temple.
I shift, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer. Her scent hits me—jasmine and rain, with that underlying rich musk of Amber.
It’s my favorite smell in the world.
“What kind of noise?” I ask.
She hesitates. “About Luke. About today. About... everything.”
I squeeze her hip. “You want to talk about it?”
“No,” she says quickly. Then she pulls back to look at me, her eyes searching my face. “Are you mad at me?”
I’m confused. “No. Why would I be mad at you? You did nothing wrong.”
“I mean... I was worried that you would be. That I scared you off.”
“Amber.” I cup her cheek, forcing her to hold my gaze. “Look at me.”
She does, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.
“I love you,” I tell her. The words feel big, filling up the quiet room.
Her eyes well up, spilling over. She lets out a shaky breath. “I love you, too,” she says softly.
I lean in and kiss her. It’s not a hungry kiss, or a demanding one. It’s a seal. A promise. Her lips are soft, moving slowly with mine.
I trail my mouth down her jaw to her neck, breathing her in.
She smells incredible. But under the jasmine, under the sweet scent of her skin... something is different.
It’s faint, buried under layers of soap and exhaustion, but my Alpha nose catches it. It’s a metallic tang, like the air before a storm.
I pull back slightly, frowning.
“What?” she asks, her fingers twisting in my lap.
“Your scent,” I say slowly. “It’s... shifting.”
She flushes, a bright pink that travels down her neck. “Oh.”
“How bad is the headache?” I ask, changing tactics but keeping my hand on her nape.
