HAZEL
I woke with heat pressed along my side and the quiet rise and fall of breathing that did not belong to me. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust, for the ceiling to stop swimming, for the silk sheets tangled around my legs to register as mine. When I turned my head, Baruch was there, sprawled beside me like he belonged.
Sleep softened him. His face had lost that guarded sharpness he carried when he was awake. Morning light traced the line of his jaw and caught in the dark hair falling into his eyes. I reached out without thinking and slid my fingers through it. It surprised me how soft it was. He did not stir.
The clock did.
The red numbers snapped into focus and my stomach tightened. I swore under my breath. The Omegas would be here any minute. I sat up fast and shoved his shoulder.
"Get up."
He groaned, half awake, eyes barely open.
"Get up," I said again, sharper now. "Pack your shit and get out. They're about to arrive."
