Author POV

Mitchell lifted her hand gently.

“Wait,” she said softly.

Gray was breathing like he had been running for miles, his chest rising and falling violently, his body weak from the drug but his mind burning with unrest. His eyes were bloodshot. Restless. Haunted.

Mitchell walked quietly toward the side table and poured a glass of water with steady hands. When she returned, she held it up to his lips.

“Drink,” she said.

Gray hesitated, then took a few slow sips. The water ...