The next day, Roxy woke to find herself entirely, inescapably caged against a wall of lean, heavily muscled perfection.
Kaelen had not moved an inch since they had fallen asleep. His massive arms were wrapped securely around her waist, his face buried deep into the crook of her neck, and his breathing was a slow, contented rhythm that vibrated against her collarbone.
Roxy smiled, her heart swelling with an overwhelming, saturated warmth. She shifted slightly, intending to stretch her aching legs, but the absolute second she moved, Kaelen's arms tightened like iron bands.
"Do not move," Kaelen grumbled, his voice thick and raspy with sleep. He pressed a warm, lingering kiss directly to her pulse point, refusing to open his eyes. "The Matriarch is officially confined to her quarters."
"Kae," Roxy laughed softly, running her fingers through his messy, silver hair. "We have a Manor to run. We have children."
