Elena’s POV

The first thing I felt was pain.

It pulsed behind my eyes in a slow, sick rhythm, then radiated outward until my whole face ached. My cheek burned where Damien’s hand had landed. Every breath dragged against the tenderness, and for a moment I thought I was still on the jet, still falling through that gray tunnel of noise and pressure.

Then the surface beneath me shifted.

Not the hard seat of a plane. Something softer. Something that moved with a gentle, rolling sway.

I forced my eyes open.

Light cut across polished wood and cream upholstery. The air smelled of salt and expensive cologne and the faint...