Alpha's Regret:Too Late to Love Me
The air was infused with lavender and chamomile—scents specifically chosen to calm werewolf senses without overwhelming them.
"I've arranged the full package," Lyra announced. "Massage, facial, hot stone therapy—the works."
"Lyra, this is too much," I protested weakly, even as two masseuses entered with warm smiles.
"Nonsense. Now strip and get on that table before I make you."
I laughed and complied, settling onto the heated massage table. The masseuse began working on my shoulders, her hands skilled at finding the exact pressure points that released tension I hadn't even realized I was carrying.
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