Iris's POV

The room was cool and the window was cracked, but still none of it mattered.

Sweat still gathered at the base of my spine and between my breasts. Every shift of the high-neck top against the fading bite mark on my shoulder sent a sharp, unwanted pulse straight down my body. Scents from downstairs, my father’s coffee, the detergent on the towels, the faint trace of the neighbor’s dog, hit harder than they should have, layered and intrusive. My skin felt too tight. The restless heat that had been building for days had stopped being background noise. It was the only thing I could feel.

I lasted until...