Lucian's POV
A sharp gasp ripped from my throat as my eyes snapped open. I tore the rubber oxygen mask off my face, drawing in a ragged breath of stale air.
My gaze swept the perimeter. Hardwood floors, heavy drapes, and an overly elegant vanity. This wasn't a hospital, and it certainly wasn't my territory. Where the fuck was I?
I swung my legs over the edge of the mattress, but the moment my feet hit the floor, the heavy bedroom door flew open.
Emily strode in, a silver tray balanced in her hands. A pleasant smile rested on her lips. "I see you're awake," she said, her voice entirely casual as she set the tray on the nightstand. "I made you breakfast."
"Where the hell am I?" I demanded, my voice dropping to a low growl. "Why did you bring me here?"
Emily let out a soft sigh, tilting her head. "Is that really how you show your gratitude, Lucian? I saved your life."
"I didn't ask you to save me," I snapped, the annoyance tightening my jaw.
