A horrible migraine wakes me up. The kind that clamps around your skull, unyielding and cruel.
I squeeze my eyes shut and snuggle into Ethan's embrace more tightly. He feels so warm and strong behind me.
Ethan.
Something tugs at my memory, but I push it away.
I want to go back to sleep.
Gosh, my head is killing me. I dare to inch open my eyes.
The room swims into focus at a torturous pace, blurred edges sharpening as memories begin to trickle in like poison seeping through cracks.
Familiar, yet somehow... wrong.
But it's the scent that jolts me—a smell that tugs at the edges of comfort but is laced with a visceral discomfort. I can't place it, can't make sense of it, not with my head splitting open from the inside out.
Ethan's hand around me tightens, and I relish in the safety
