Anna's POV:

My head pounds.

I open my eyes. The ceiling blurs, sharpens, blurs again.

'Where—'

The memory slams into me. Peter's office. His claws. The weight of him—

A hand touches my face.

I flinch. Hard. My body jerks away from the contact.

"Anna."

That voice. I know that voice.

I force my eyes to focus. Alexander sits beside the bed. His face is close. Too close.

"Don't—" My voice cracks. "Don't touch me."

His hand ...