AVELORA
A heavy hand shook my shoulder. I bolted upright. For a second, the darkness disoriented me, and the image of those glowing eyes flashed in my mind like a brand.
I gasped, reaching for a blanket only to realize I was cramped in the armchair beside Khyrix’s bed.
“Get up.”
His voice was low, controlled, and void of the agony from before. I squinted through the dim light. Khyrix was standing at the foot of the bed, fully dressed in black athletic gear that clung to his frame in all the wrong ways, or the right ones, depending on how much I wanted to lie to myself.
He looked perfectly fine. Not a single trace of the man who had been screaming at midnight remained, except for the thick white bandages peeking out from under his sleeves.
"Can you please put on the lights?" I croake
