Third pov

A week before the battle

The morning sun pierced through the heavy curtains, casting an orange glow across the lavish suite. Ryan stirred, feeling the dull ache of a headache throbbing at his temples. He blinked, his vision blurry, and his memory foggy. The last thing he could remember was the tempting whispers of Sabrina, the wine she handed him, and a feeling of intense desire. His brow furrowed as he recalled snippets—her delicate fingers, her voice dripping with seduction. But ...