The morning sun slipped into the tiny curtain cracks, and Prince Theron yawned on the bed. His hands slowly went to his eyes as he rubbed the sleep away, then felt the space beside him—but it was empty. His eyes yanked open, and every dizziness vanished. He tried sitting up, and his back ached. There wasn't a trace of what had happened, aside from those left on his body.
For a moment, he just leaned on the bedboard, letting the memories wash over him. A satisfied smile spread across his lips as he slowly stood up and walked to the bathroom.
Seeing the prepared bath, pain-easing ointments, and herbs, he smirked and dipped his body into the bathtub. Theron's hands caressed the bitemarks. Others may hate it, but he liked it. Deep down, he looked forward to having more—but then, he snapped out of it. Reality was far more dangerous.
