Isla's POV
A dull ache throbbed at the back of my head when I opened my eyes. For a moment, I wasn’t sure where I was. The ceiling above me was unfamiliar, tall, and decorated.
Then memories came flooding back. Killian’s arm over my shoulder. His strength pinning me down. My teeth sunk into his back.
The humiliation of being carried like some prize through the crowd.
I groaned and pressed the heel of my hand to my forehead. “Damn it…”
The sheets around me were soft, almost too soft, definitely not mine. Killian’s house. Of course.
I sat up slowly, my body reminding me of the struggle from last night. My throat was dry, my lips chapped, and my pride shredded.
Someone had left a tray of food on the bedside table. Steaming tea, warm bread, and a small dish of fruit. My stomach betraye
