Waking up wrapped in four different scents should have been disorienting.
Instead my hindbrain purred like it had finally found exactly where it belonged, which was both gratifying and terrifying in equal measure because I'd spent two years teaching myself not to belong anywhere and now here I was, tangled in Kael's sheets with Riven's arm draped over my waist and Thorne's hand still wrapped around my ankle like he'd been holding on all night.
Draven sat in the chair by the window, book open on his lap but eyes on me, and from the way the corner of his mouth lifted when our gazes met he'd been waiting for me to wake up.
"Morning." My voice came out rough. Sleep and heat and too many emotions I hadn't processed yet.
"Afternoon, actually." He closed the book. "You slept through breakfast and lunch."
