Sophia
Dawn seeps through Alcyde's bedroom window like spilled ink, and I wake to pressure building behind my eyes—fingers pressing outward from inside my skull. Hannah stirs in the depths where Bertha's antidote buried her, testing the barriers with increasing violence. The mate mark on my throat throbs with each assault, silver scar tissue burning as it tries to contain what death and Bertha's binding have twisted her into.
Alcyde's arm tightens around my waist, pulling me flush against his chest. His morning arousal presses against my lower back, and heat pools between my thighs despite the war raging in my head. When his teeth graze the mark he left, electricity shoots straight to my core. "You're trembling."
"She's waking." My voice comes out rough, desperate. "The antidote's faili
