-Vaughn Blackmore:
I forced myself up.
My legs shook the moment I stood, subtle but enough to make me aware of every small instability in my body. Heat still lingered under my skin in heavy, uneven waves—no longer as sharp as before, but constant, persistent, as it had settled into my system and refused to leave. Each breath felt slightly too warm on the way in, slightly too thin on the way out, and my thoughts weren't moving as cleanly as I wanted them to.
I took a step toward the door.
Then another.
The room behind me stayed quiet in a way that felt heavier than noise. Ryland hadn't spoken again, but his presence was still there—steady, unmoving, somewhere behind me in the space. I kept my focus forward, locked onto the idea of leaving before my body or my instincts complicated things further.
My hand lifted toward the handle.
I never reached it.
The movement behind me was fast.
Before I could turn, before I could even properly register it, his hand closed around my wrist.
