Ivy woke up slowly.

Her eyelids felt heavy, as if they had been glued shut. Her head throbbed. Her throat was dry. For a moment she could not even remember where she was or what had happened. Her breath came uneven. Her fingers brushed the soft blanket under her, warm and clean, nothing like the cold stone of the dungeon.

She blinked until her vision steadied.

A quiet room. Soft yellow lights. A wooden table. A chair.

And then she saw him.

Damien sat beside the bed, leaning forward with his ...