The door to the chamber opened without a sound.
Alpha Ashmere stepped inside.
The room carried a familiar warmth that was soft, lived-in, and distinctly hers. The faint scent of jasmine and something deeper lingered in the air, wrapping around him before the door had even fully closed behind him.
He paused just for a moment.
His gaze settled on the bed.
Clementine lay against the cushions. She had one leg folded slightly beneath her, and the other stretched out lazily across the sheets. A thin robe draped over her slender frame, barely tied, exposing the smooth line of her shoulder and collarbone.
Her fingers moved slowly over her skin, smoothing lotion along her arm with absent precision, as though her mind was somewhere far from the motion itself.
She had noticed him, but not yet fully to acknowledge him.
Ashmere's lips curved faintly.
There was something about this, about her, in moments like this that always quieted everything inside him.
