The next morning, Athena woke to an empty bed.
She blinked sleepily, her hand instinctively reaching for Azrael's warmth, only to find cool sheets instead.
With a small frown, she rolled onto her back, hair sticking out in every possible direction, strands falling into her eyes until she looked like she'd survived a small storm in her sleep.
Groaning, she dragged herself up and padded into the walk-in closet. And there he was.
Azrael stood in the middle of the room. He was wearing a white loose shirt that flexed his hard chest. He calmly folded the clothes and placing them into an open suitcase.
Everything was neat. Like he'd been at this for a while.
The moment he noticed her reflection in the mirror, his lips stretched into a wide, amused grin. He paused, tilted his head, then shook it slowly.
"Wow," he said, clearly entertained. "Not my mate looking this hot first thing in the morning."
