Elena’s POV
I woke up to a splitting headache—the kind that made every throb of my pulse echo like a drum behind my eyes. A low groan escaped me as I clutched my head, squeezing my face tight against the pain while I tried to sit up.
The curtains were only half drawn, yet the sunlight spilling into the room stabbed at my eyes like knives. It was too bright, too harsh. That wasn’t morning light—it looked like midday already.
“How long have I been out?” I muttered to myself, my voice rough and scratchy.
I shifted, and that’s when I noticed him. Andrew. Lying right beside me.
His head rested against the pillow, lips parted slightly, his breathing steady and calm. For the first time since I’d met him, he didn’t look cold or commanding. He looked… human. Peaceful. Almost boyish in sleep.
