In the depths of the long-abandoned secret passage within the haunted house, the air was thick, like congealed tar.
Selena gradually regained her senses as the absurdity of the encounter—fueled by the antidote's side effects—began to recede. She leaned weakly against a dusty wooden crate, her chest heaving, every inch of her exposed skin keenly aware of the seeping chill in the tunnel. The throbbing heat of being thoroughly possessed was slowly ebbing, replaced by a cold armor of composure that re-clad her soul.
Lucian’s damp, heated kisses were still falling in soft patches against the nape of her neck. His large warrior's hands, so skilled in combat, were clumsy as they attempted to provide "aftercare." He tried to brush away the strands of hair soaked in cold sweat that clung to her s
