Rachel POV
Warmth. Soft sheets. A faint, familiar cologne.
My mind drifted in a hazy fog, caught somewhere between sleep and memory. My body felt heavy, my limbs foreign and uncooperative. I breathed in shakily, my eyes fluttering open to find dim light from a bedside lamp painting soft shadows on the walls.
This wasn't my room.
My chest tightened. Where was I?
Then it all slammed back into me—the alley, rough hands grabbing me, the necklace being ripped, hot blood on my face, a gunshot, Damien's icy voice, the man falling, my own scream. I jerked upright with a sharp gasp.
A shadow moved in the corner. My breath hitched, panic exploding behind my ribs.
Damien.
He sat in a chair near the bed, his coat draped over the back and his shirtsleeves rolled up. He looked exhausted, his exp
