Katarina's P.O.V.
The harsh light pierced through my eyelids, forcing me to squint as I gradually regained consciousness. A wave of frustration washed over me—how many more times would I wake up in pain, injured, or barely hanging on? The sharp, sterile scent of antiseptic filled my nose, confirming what I already suspected—I was in the hospital again.
A dull ache in my wrist caught my attention. Something was embedded in my vein, an IV, no doubt. My instinct was to yank it out and leap from the bed to search for Dominic. His absence stung, but I reassured myself that whatever kept him away had to be crucial.
“Luna,” a voice called from somewhere nearby, but I ignored it, focusing instead on the uncomfortable IV taped to my wrist.
“Luna, please leave that in,” an older man’s voice gent
