Guilermo woke up slowly, dragging himself out of the deep, drugged sleep that had claimed him. His body felt heavy, like it was filled with lead instead of blood. His arm throbbed where the rogue had cut him. His head pounded.
He reached out.
His hand hit cool sheets.
"Lilura?"
He opened his eyes.
The space beside him was empty. The pillow still held the indentation of her head, but the warmth was fading.
He sat up, panic spiking in his chest.
"Lilura!"
He scanned the room. Her clothes were gone. Her boots were gone.
And then he saw it.
The note.
It sat on the pillow, white and innocent in the dim light.
He snatched it up. He read it once. Then twice.
You were right. It was just biology. The hunger is gone now. And so am I.
Don't look for me. I got what I needed.
L.
The pap
