The next morning came relatively quickly. A pale golden light filtering through the heavy curtains of the chamber and casting long shadows across the tangled sheets.
Jax's eyes fluttered open, not to an alarm, but to the gentle, rhythmic weight of a body curled against his side and the soft, even breaths of two women in deep slumber. He lay still for a moment, a rare, quiet smile gracing his lips as he took in the scene.
To his right, Serika was a picture of peaceful innocence. She lay on her side, facing him, one hand tucked beneath her cheek, her hair a fan across the pillow.
Her lips were slightly parted, and a soft, contented purr vibrated in her chest with every breath. She looked like an angel, a stark, beautiful contrast to the debauched, willing participant she had been the night before.
To his left, Hydra was different even in sleep. She lay on her stomach, her powerful, voluptuous frame taking up a significant portion of the bed, one leg thrown possessively over his.
