24
Lorcan groggily opened his eyes and saw the blurry ceiling and the headboard of the bed looming over him. Images of furniture and other decorative items floated in the air, flickered, and then settled. He blinked to clear his vision. His limbs didn’t seem to belong to him, and each of his movements felt as if he was trying to move a mountain.
He remembered it now—the incident at the cliffs, the death of his father, and what his father had said before he died.
He was officially an orphan.
He must have drained all of his energy in electric waves at the cliffs in a haze of confusion and emotional pain. His human subconscious and the other part of him were tangled in a gigantic mess. He felt a tug at his hand and found Aris licking it.
“Thank you, Aris,” he muttered. The door slid open
