A sudden, violent nausea jolted me awake, pulling me out of the thin fog of sleep. I barely made it to the bathroom, stumbling over cold tiles before collapsing against the toilet, my stomach heaving as I emptied what little I had left inside me. I gripped the rim, too drained to even lift my head, as the fluorescent bathroom light painted everything in a washed-out, harsh glow. Lysander’s steady hand reached down, brushing my hair back, his fingers cool against my clammy skin. He flushed ...