voices.

Not outdoors.inside.

There were two of them.

One was mine; it was harsh and hoarse, clawing upward like a man drowning in a dark sea.

The other was patient, steady, and fluid.

Rhys.

Long before my eyes opened, I sensed him. I could feel him tightening like a second spine around my awareness. I could feel him sewing himself into my bones, my breath, and my nerves.

I rasped in the gloom, "Let me out."

He laughed. Are you out? You're not confined. You're giving.

After that, there was ...