He was about to try sitting up when from behind him, the dream voice said, “Hello, sweetheart. I’m glad you’re awake.”
Rafe whipped around and gasped as savage pain lanced through his head. Gripping the edge of the mattress while battling the spike of nausea, he tried to focus. A smiling, very young, blond-haired man was seated at the head of the bed.
““Don’t be alarmed.” The smile widened. “I’m your alpha.”
“Like hell you are.” The words shot out of his mouth before he could think what might be the best way to talk his way out of this mess.
The young man’s brow furrowed. “Now, don’t be afraid. I know you’re feeling confused and ill right now, but it will pass.” He stood and walked to the table where a carafe and a glass sat on a silver tray. The man poured some murky liquid and brought it to Rafe. “This will help with the pain. Drink up.”