Consciousness didn't return to her all at once. It leaked in, like water filling a sinking ship. Her mind felt like a corrupted file—fragments of a warehouse, and the sound of steel screaming as it was torn apart.
Then, there was the heat.
She opened her eyes, her vision blurring before finally settling on the ceiling of Lucien's bedroom. But she wasn't alone. She could feel the weight of a gaze so heavy it felt like a hand pressing down on her chest.
She turned her head. Lucien was there.
He wasn't sitting in his usual armchair. He was leaning over the bed, his arms braced on either side of her shoulders, trapping her in the small space of the mattress. The sunlight filtered through the curtains, catching the edge of his handsome face.
He smiled, flashing his white teeth. And then she saw them. His canines were slightly longer, the points sharp enough to draw blood with a mere graze.
