Chapter Three
The man's—Griff’s—hand clamped down on Brea’s arm as the world twisted and bent around them. A wave of dizziness washed over her, but his grip kept her upright.
She tried to speak, to breathe out the protests and the questions swirling in her mind, but nothing came out.
Everything disappeared. The snow, the bare winter trees covered in a thin sheen of ice.
Even the police officer faded into the background before she couldn’t see him at all. Loch, Griff had called him. His smooth voice echoed in her ears, calling after her with a mixture of fear and fury until even that was gone and all that remained was a heavy silence.
Warmth. It was the first thing she noticed. Gone was the dreary Ohio winter. She pried her eyes open to find the sun breaking through flowering trees ove
