Cain’s eyelids fluttered open to a dim blur of faces, soft murmurs, and the faint scent of antiseptic mixed with something warmer.
Brittney’s perfume, sharp yet familiar.
Safe.
His head rested heavily against a steady warmth that gave a comforting beat each millisecond.
Slowly, his senses sharpened.
He realized he was cradled in Brittney’s arms, his head on her chest with she bowed over him and her fingers gently threading through his damp hair, soothing in a way that cut through the mustiness in his mind.
“You’re awake,” Brittney whispered, voice almost fragile in the quiet that followed.
Cain's breath stuttered and he let himself look at the woman, taking her in like it was the first time.
Her eyes were dark pools of exhaustion and concern, but underneath, a shrewdness that see
