Corin
When I opened my eyes again, the room was no longer dark. Thin beams of light slipped through the gaps in the heavy gray velvet curtains, dust dancing inside them as they lit the dark wooden furniture. My head was no longer pounding so cruelly, and the fog of fever had begun to lift. I could see more clearly, but every cell in my body ached as if a carriage had rolled over me.
The silence was suffocating. I was alone in the massive bed, which still carried Mason’s scent, that wild pine forest smell that both frightened and calmed me at the same time.
Suddenly I felt a painful need to get up. My bladder was tight and my throat was dry as sand. But more than that, an inner urge pushed me to prove to myself that I was not helpless. I could not be a burden, a wreck lying in someone el
