Aila woke up, slightly disorientated. She bolted upright in the huge bed she had been sleeping in; her eyes scanned her surroundings sleepily until they landed on the shirtless, muscular back of Alpha Damon. He stood, watching outside of the balcony door, a cup of warm liquid in his hand while his other hand raked through his dishevelled hair. He turned his head and looked at her, almost as if he could sense her staring at him; she felt her face heat up as the day before flashed across her mind.