DANTE’S POV
“Are you okay?” Raven asks, her voice a shaky, thin thread in the quiet room.
It is morning already. The gray light of dawn is seeping through the curtains, but I cannot tell if I am still dreaming or if all this is real. My senses are hazy. When she reaches out for my body, her touch feels agonizingly cold instead of warm. It sends a sharp chill down my spine, causing bile to rise in my throat and bumps to sprout up my body.
I evade her, pulling off the cover with a violent jerk and throwing my legs off the bed. I need distance. I need to feel the floor beneath my feet to know I’m not sinking again.
“I am fine,” I state.
My voice is a flat, dead tone, a desperate attempt to sound like the man I was yesterday. I try to stand, but my knees feel like they’re made of glass.
