“Is this love,” Eliana questions herself as she brushes locks of Jasper’s hair away from his forehead. He is still sweating profusely, so most of his body is drenched.

“No, it could not possibly be.” Right? Eliana caresses his features with her eyes, running the length of his jawline and his thick brow, reveling in how perfect it is. His lips, plump and bright red from the fever, are open just slightly enough in order for him to breathe from it. His eyelashes are thick and ...