Justice Has Been Served

The first sensation was warmth. Not the sun-drenched kind, but a clinging, insistent heat that seemed to emanate from the center of her being and radiate outwards. Garnet stirred, muscles protesting against the unfamiliar position she found herself in.

Disorientation gnawed at the edges of her mind, a cottony fog obscuring the memory of how she'd ended up sprawled across a vast, silk-sheeted bed, nestled against the hard contours of a chest rising and falling with steady breaths.

Then came the scent. Spice and musk, a heady mix that sent a jolt through her, prickling the hairs on her arms and tightening the knot in her gut. It was unmistakably Thor’s scent, magnified, amplified to an almost nauseating intensity.

Panic, cold and sharp, cut through the fog. Garnet's eyes flew open, slamming against the dusky light filtering through heavy drapes. Her gaze landed on the strong line of Thor’s jaw, the dark stubble that dusted his cheekbones. His arm was draped over her waist, heavy and pos