It reminded her, ironically, of her earlier days with the wolf tribe. Back then, too, the nights had been filled with cries—but at least those wolves had a limit. This place? This was limitless.
By the time the moon sank lower, Kaya had given up on sleeping.
Being a light sleeper was already a curse—but when she wasn't utterly exhausted or drugged by poison, sleep never came easy.
And this noise made it impossible.
Finally, with an irritated huff, she turned to the man clinging to her like a vine.
Veer was sprawled halfway across her, one leg hooked over her stomach like a possessive cat.
"Move," she muttered.
He didn't even twitch.
Kaya narrowed her eyes, then gave him a solid kick.
Thud!
Veer rolled off the bed and hit the floor with a heavy sound, his hair falling over his face.
Still asleep.
Kaya just stared at him, deadpan. Then she rolled her eyes and muttered,
"Unbelievable. He could probably sleep through an earthquake."
