Jane Jenkins (POV)
Pain fades in strange ways.
It doesn’t disappear all at once. It loosens its grip slowly, like fingers reluctantly letting go. The ache in my body dulls first, then the sharp sting in my head eases, leaving behind a heavy exhaustion that sinks into my bones.
I wake to warmth.
Not the cold cement. Not damp air and shadows.
This warmth smells like pine, earth, and home.
Lucas.
My eyes flutter open, and for a moment, I’m afraid to move. Afraid this is another trick—another cruel illusion my mind has made to survive the dark. But then I feel his arm around me, solid and real, his chest rising and falling beneath my cheek.
He’s here.
I breathe him in and feel my chest tighten.
“I’m awake,” I whisper, my voice hoarse.
His body goes rigid instantly.
“Jan
