The morning light bled faintly through the curtains when Elena stirred awake. Her head throbbed with the dull ache of too much tequila, her body heavy against the sheets. She shifted—and froze.
Liam was lying beside her.
Her breath caught, and she bolted upright. “What the hell?” she gasped, reaching out to shake him awake. “Liam!” What are you doing here?
His eyes blinked open slowly, hazel and groggy, as if he belonged there. He exhaled, rubbing his face with one hand. “You came home drunk last night,” he said flatly. “Have you forgotten already?”
The memories hit her like a wave—the nightclub, the chaos, the blood, Lucian’s piercing blue eyes. Her chest tightened. Before she could gather her thoughts, Liam sat up and stepped closer, his expression hardening.
“Elena,” he said sharpl
