Lily stirred from her sleep, awareness creeping in as morning light filtered through the curtains. Something felt different. The bed was firmer than hers, the sheets smoother. A distinct scent of pine and musk filled her senses.
There was only one person she knew who had that distinct scent.
Her eyes flew open in shock.
Zayn laid next to her, relaxed and sound asleep. He was shirtless, his tanned skin marred with dark scars – and something else. Blood. Dried blood spattered his chest and arms, even flecked across his face. Despite this alarming sight, he slept peacefully, his usual stern expression softened in slumber.
Her heart hammered in her chest.
How did she end up here?
Memories of last night flooded back. After Zayn had left her room following their tense discussion about producing an heir, she’d paced restlessly, unable to calm her racing thoughts. She needed to speak with him, to make him understand that she wasn’t rejecting the idea – she just needed time.
