SERAPHINA
Something warm seeped into my flesh.
Not fire, not pain— something quieter. Familiar. It wrapped around me in my half-conscious haze, like the sun resting on my skin through a window I couldn’t see.
I wasn’t walking. I was being carried. Who was it?
Somewhere in the dark folds of my exhaustion, I could feel it: strong arms holding me steady, each step measured, each breath near my hair. My head rested against a solid chest, and for a fleeting moment, I let myself fall into it. That quiet strength. That unexpected peace.
And then it was gone.
I blinked, slowly surfacing from the fog.
White walls. Soft sheets under my palms.
I was lying on a bed. Definitely not mine.
Where was I?
My gaze shifted around the room—unfamiliar and yet oddly quiet. It did not look like an
