DALTON POV
I groaned. My body felt like it had been roasted from the inside out—fire licking through my veins, nerves sparking like frayed wires. Every breath was sharp, like I’d swallowed broken glass.
My wrists ached. My head pounded. And then—
The memories hit me.
The silver cuffs. The godsdamn interrogation room. The echo of Derrick’s roar somewhere distant. The sickening scent of my own burning skin.
I bolted upright, heart racing, lungs dragging in air like I’d just broken the surface after drowning.
I expected chains. Darkness. The cold bite of stone and the sting of silver against my wrists.
But that wasn’t where I was.
I blinked at the warm lighting, the dark wood paneling, the scent of leather and old books. A desk stood at the far end of the room—elegant, carved, expensi
