toes point and I yawn with a full-body stretch. A fog clouds my memories, and I feel tired, beyond tired. Exhaustion pulls at me, straining my limbs and sapping my strength.
Why do I feel as if I fought an epic battle and lost?
My hand goes to my chest. It hurts to breathe. No, that’s not right. It’s just a struggle like each pull happens only with conscious effort. Confusion crowds the edges of my thoughts and I struggle to piece together the last few hours.
How did I get from the cave to Griff’s bed? I stretch my hand out, naturally feeling for him, or at least for the lingering warmth his body leaves behind.
The sheets beside me are cold and tucked tight. There’s no evidence he was in bed at all.
That’s odd.
I feel groggy, like waking from a long slumber, only I want to curl into a ball and drag the covers over my head. Sleep sounds perfect, but something tells me to get up.
Once again, I stretch. My toes curl. My fingers reach far overhead. Damn, that feels good. Grit coats my eyes and I rub away the sleep. Scanning my surroundings, I confirm this is definitely Griff’s bed. His presence floods the room with virile masculinity, everywhere but in the bed itself.
So, where is he? And what time is it?
My gaze sweeps the room, then lands on the clock next to the bed. It’s well past midnight. I brush the hair from my face and draw back the covers. Placing my bare feet on the floor, I wriggle my toes in the thick carpet.
When I get up, the sound of male voices reaches my ears—several male voices, and they’re arguing. I cock my head, but I can’t make out the words.
Looking down, I realize I’m nearly naked. With others in the house, I need something more than my bra and panties if I’m going to see what the commotion is about.
The voices grow louder, then drop for a beat, but they’re soon back at it, arguing with indistinct words. Curious by nature, I throw on one of Griff’s shirts and head for the bedroom door. I pause at the door, eavesdropping, not sure if I should stay in here or head out there.
I peek through a crack in the door and feel my breath hitch. Griff stands with his back to me facing a room of intimidating men. He takes my breath away as my gaze meanders up and around the physical perfection of his body. Thick, corded muscles strain the fabric of his shirt, every inch of him honed through intensive physical conditioning.
Warmth fills my chest as I marvel at the man who opened his home to me and welcomed me into his life. Unlike me, he has no reservation about putting himself out there, of opening himself to the possibility of something more than raw, physical attraction. He’s generous and overprotective, perhaps too much, but there’s a vulnerability about him as well.
His hand settles on the back of a chair. His fingers flex as his entire body tenses.
“I said no.” His entire body vibrates with anger. “We’re not discussing this further.”
“Griff.” A man I don’t know pinches the bridge of his nose. “You know it makes sense.”
“Did any of you see her when I carried her inside? She had a breakdown…”
A what?
“Moira is stronger than you think.” With the sound of rolling thunder, I know that voice. Why is Forest here?
I nudge the door open with my toe, praying the hinges don’t squeak. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who those men are. It’s Griff’s team, and they’re arguing about me.
Why?
I smack the side of my head; maybe if I can dislodge the cobwebs clouding my thoughts, things would make more sense. I remember the cave and spending the day with Zoe. We talked about Griff and Axel. My cheeks heat at how graphic our conversation turned. Why do I remember that with crystal clarity but not how I got here?
“There’s no fucking way you’re using Moira as bait. No. Fucking. Way. End of conversation. She’s not a Guardian. She’s not trained…”
“Griff.” Axel moves into view and looks right at me. He gives a jerk of his chin and Griff spins around.
“Moira—you’re up.” He rushes over, yanks the door open, and swallows me in one of his bear hugs.
I pull in a calming breath. His masculine scent floods my senses, causing an overwhelming sense of calm to sweep over me.
This feels right.
Griff’s hand