* * * Max’s POV * * *
My head is spinning with what has to be the worst hangover I’ve ever experienced, or at least the worst I’ve experienced since my 21st birthday party. Not even Nate had been able to heal that shit, and we had been laid in bed for two days wishing for death. Because it had to be easier than what we had felt. I feel a smile creep onto my face at the thought of that night, and the silence around the pack the two days after, while we all recovered. Yeah, this hangover is on par with that. I don’t even try to open my eyes. I allow myself to go back to sleep. The pack will understand if I’m not seen today. I just hope the others are suffering as much as I am.
Nate is snoring in my head, totally oblivious to the fact I’m half awake and partially aware. He will wake up when he’s ready. At least with him asleep, I have a chance of sleeping. He’s like a damn Duracell bunny half the time, constantly bouncing around in my head, wanting to be on the move.
Sleep and the dark
