Chapter 165

• Jaxon
• The scent of stale whiskey and dried blood clung to my room like a curse. I lay sprawled on the wide leather couch near the window, staring blankly at the ceiling. Dust motes drifted through shafts of weak morning light slicing between the blackout curtains I hadn’t opened in days.
• My beard had grown thick and untamed, dark bristles covering my jaw and throat, curling slightly at the ends. My brows had overgrown too, shadowing my bloodshot eyes. When I shifted, the scruff rasped against my collarbone, sending a small shiver through my exhausted body. My hair fell in messy waves to my shoulders, heavy with grease. I hadn’t bothered to tie it back.