Gwen’s eyes fluttered open, the soft light of the room doing little to soothe the throbbing in her head. A name, a whisper on her lips, escaped before she could fully grasp it: “Damien.”
Liam, perched on the edge of her bed, stiffened at the sound. His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his temple. He’d found her, unconscious and frail, on the cold floor of their apartment. And now, this name, this phantom from a past she couldn’t recall, was the first thing she uttered. A cold knot of anger twisted in his gut.
Gwen, clutching her heart as if to anchor herself, saw Liam and a wave of unease washed over her. “What happened?” she asked, her voice raspy.
“I saw you lying unconscious on the floor, Gwen,” Liam’s voice was clipped, devoid of the usual warmth. “What happened?”
She hesitated, a
