Chapter Forty-Five

Scarlett’s POV

The first thing I feel is warmth. Not the soft, gentle warmth of blankets, but a heat that pulses. Protects. Surrounds. My eyes flutter open slowly. The room swims into shape—dim, quiet, lit by a low golden lamp in the corner. The scent of eucalyptus still clings to the air. My head rests on a soft pillow, my limbs heavy but no longer trembling.

And there he is. Killian. Sitting in a chair pulled so close to my bed that our knees are almost touching. His ...