20. Not Just a Werewolf

Ivy

I wake up the next day and expect Ryder to be gone in the morning but no.

He has proven me wrong once again.

Because as I try to stretch and turn to my side, I realize that I can't fucking move.

Ryder's arm is draped over my waist, holding me tightly against him. I try to wiggle out of his grip, but he only pulls me closer. I let out a frustrated sigh but can't help the smile that tugs at my lips.

I take a moment to just lay there, listening to his breathing and feeling his warmth against me.

I gently try to disentangle myself from him again, and this time he stirs. His eyes slowly open, and he looks at me with a lazy smile.

"Hey," he says, his voice low and husky.

"Why are you still here?" I whine.

He chuckles and tightens his hold on me. "Are you complaining?"

"Yes, I'm complaining!" I cry out.

"You should be thankful instead of being an ungrateful brat," Ryder says, brushing his lips over my earlobe.

I shiver at the sensation and let out a soft moan. "Thankful? For what?"

"You