Benedict

I wake slowly with the smell of antiseptic mixed with the scent of Sloane’s honey smell in my nose. The moment I shift my body, fire erupts in my neck.

I try to lift my hands, but one is being held.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you?” my father’s soft voice says. He places his hand on my chest, holding me steady and grounding me at the same time.

I open my eyes, and blink, waiting for them to focus.

“Wh …” I begin, then quickly stop when that fire erupts in my ...