The Heartless Alpha’s Beloved Luna (Avery and Gideon) novel Chapter 432

Avery’s POV

The sun had come up already. The birds were singing outside the window, and the scent of freshly mowed grass was in the air. Nighttime had come to its end, and morning had arrived.

So did the shame. It came right after I realized that I was still on the couch with my dress rumpled around me and Gideon’s arm was draped over me, his chest slowly rising and falling against my back.

Slowly, I cracked my eyes open and looked around. Gideon was still sleeping behind me, spooning me with his back against the plush sofa cushions. My dress looked like a wild animal had gotten to it and my muscles felt loose and heavy in all the most intimate of places.

The events of last night came back in a rush. Clearheaded now, I recalled all too well how I had climbed on top of Gideon like I needed to kiss him to breathe. How I had had sex with him, despite every logical voice in my mind telling me not to do it. How I’d fallen asleep in his arms, drunk and exhausted and thinking, foolishly, that I might wake up and find it had all just been a dream.

Well, it wasn’t. He was still here, and I was still in his arms, and the room still smelled like sweat and sex.

The regret I had predicted arrived right on schedule, although it was quieter than I expected. Less of a crash and more of a slow creep, working its way through my chest like a curling vine.

“I love you, Avery. I always have.”

Gideon had said those words last night, and I supposed they had hit their mark, because instinct took over and I’d thrown myself at him like a madwoman. I couldn’t entirely blame my wolf, either; she may have given me the initial nudge, but the rest was all me.

At least Gideon had an excuse. He was affected by an aphrodisiac that clouded his judgment. Which was probably also why he said the things he had; not because he truly meant them, but because he was drunk and high and horny and the moon was full and he wanted my body more than anything.

I needed to get out, I decided. Preferably before Gideon woke up.

Taking care not to wake him, I slowly lifted his arm. He stirred but didn’t open his eyes. I moved with painstaking effort, sliding off the sofa and onto my feet, wincing at the state of the room as I straightened up. The bowl was still on the floor where it had cracked. The damp towel was draped over the edge of the table.

My shoes were nowhere to be found, and I remembered that I had left them in the ballroom. They were probably gone forever now, snatched up by a guest who assumed they’d been abandoned.

I was just reaching for the doorhandle, trying to turn it without making a sound, when Gideon’s voice startled me.

“You’re doing it again.”

I whirled around and pressed my hand to my chest.

Gideon was awake, sitting up slightly on one elbow, watching me with heavy eyes and his hair pushed sideways from sleep. He blinked and sat up the rest of the way.

“I was trying not to wake you,” I said.

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