Rebecca’s POV
Finally, we discovered a space that was almost safe.
Almost.
It was a tiny storeroom hidden away deep in the mansion, enclosed by solid stone walls save for one wooden door protecting us from the pandemonium beyond.
For now, at least, this would be enough.
I slumped down against the far wall, feeling the tiredness weigh heavily on me. The mark burned faintly on my shoulder, but it didn’t sting; rather, it felt pleasantly warm under my shirt.
This was at least one good thing.
Sadly, however, my mind couldn’t stop itself from racing.
Each time I dwelled on the events from before, blood surged up to my cheeks.
Matthew’s hands.
Ezekiel’s mouth against my neck.
Tyler’s touch.
The way my body had reacted to all three of them like I’d completely lost control of myself.
