Damien's pov
Twenty minutes was too long.
"s**t," I muttered, snatching a clean washcloth from the bathroom.
I ran it under cold water, wrung it out, and pressed it against her forehead.
Her breathing was shallow, her chest barely moving.
Sweat beaded along her hairline even as she shivered.
Orion growled in the back of my mind, restless and worried.
I hurried to the kitchen, filled a bowl with ice water, and grabbed a few towels.
When I came back to the bedroom, I put the cold cloths on her pulse points : wrists, neck, and behind her knees, just like my grandmother used to do when someone had a fever.
The minutes passed slowly.
I kept changing the wet towels, watching her shake under my hands, unable to help her in any other way.
Her thin nightgown stuck
