The first breath of morning carried no relief. Emerald stretched languidly against the sheets, expecting the dull ache of the night before to have faded into something manageable.
Instead, her body felt like it was on fire, restless and craving more. The heat inside her clawed at her, like a slow, unquenchable blaze. Every inch of her skin prickled, as though even the soft fabric beneath her were too much.
She groaned and sat up, pressing a hand to her forehead. "This is ridiculous…" Her voice came out hoarse, betraying the exhaustion that had been chasing her since the night before.
"Morning, little wolf," a deep voice drawled. "Feeling better?"
Her head whipped toward the corner of the room, and her heart gave an unsteady lurch. Ares leaned casually against the wall, arms folded across his chest, looking entirely too comfortable.
His expression was infuriatingly smug, as though he had been standing there for some time, simply watching her toss and turn for his own amusement.
