SERAPHINA'S POV
I woke with my mouth dry and my limbs heavy, like I'd been asleep for a thousand years, and barely managed to claw my way back into the world.
The faint scent of saffron and eucalyptus filled the air—soothing, grounding.
Not my apartment.
I blinked against the soft morning light streaming in through parted drapes and slowly sat up, clutching the edge of the couch. I recognized that scent, associated with my new friend and formidable trainer.
I was on Maya's couch.
Relief hit first. No unfamiliar sheets. No morning-after regrets. I was fully clothed, my shoes were neatly placed by the door, and a blanket had been tucked over me.
No smeared lipstick, no taste of another's mouth on mine. Nothing to indicate I'd done anything reckless.
"Oh, thank fuck," I whispered.
I rarely let myself indulge in alcohol as much as I did last night. After what happened with Kieran ten years ago, I rarely let myself get inebriated, wary of making yet another devastating mistake.
