His fingers slipped away from my chin, leaving a lingering warmth behind. Before I could process it, he reached down and tossed the blanket off me in one swift motion. A small gasp escaped my lips, but he didn’t give me a chance to react.
His hand found mine—large, warm, firm. He wrapped his fingers around mine and gently pulled me up from the bed.
“Let’s go,” he said, his voice calm but leaving no room for argument. “You need to be fed.”
I could only follow, my heart hammering in my chest as he led me out of the room.
I followed him quietly, my hand still in his as he led me down the dimly lit hallway. My heart pounded against my ribs, but I didn’t say a word. Something about the way he held my hand, firm yet controlled, sent a shiver through me.
But instead of heading toward the din
