LYRA POV
I was sore.
No—scratch that.
I was LMAO sore. Like, what-the-hell-just-happened sore. Like I-was-hit-by-a-truck-then-run-over-again sore.
Except it wasn’t a truck. It was my mate. My stupidly hot, stupidly strong, maddeningly perfect beta mate with super healing abilities and apparently infinite stamina.
I, on the other hand, was just a witch. A magical being, sure. A vessel of ancient power, yes. But at the end of the day, still very much a squishy, soft-bodied human underneath it all. And my squishy soft body had been… well, thoroughly claimed. Enthusiastically. Repeatedly. Relentlessly.
Let’s just say I wasn’t walking anywhere anytime soon.
I was currently sitting, half-slumped in the middle of the room like a broken ragdoll, wrapped in one of Hunter’s shirts and trying
