“Moonbeam.” “Hmm . . .” “Please don’t scare me like that again.” Scare? What a nice thing to say. “You shouldn’t spend such lovely words on me, Sire,” I murmur groggily, wishing I didn’t find such comfort in his scent. In the feel of his arms wrapped around me. In him. “You should save them for somebody special.” His guttural growl is the last thing I hear before darkness consumes me.
