Byron woke up gasping for air. He quickly removed the cloth covering his eyes. Light burned his eyes and sent a jabbing pain over his skull. 

The migraine worsened. His head throbbed with the intensity of a thousand hammers hitting at the back of his tender temples.

“How are you feeling, Mr. Wellington?”

Byron groaned, cowering from the agony of his migran. He panted. The nurse gently nudged his shoulder. 

She insisted. The doctor closed the windows and the curtains.

 “He has a severe migraine,” a voice said softly. Byron did not focus on the voices. Instead, he gave in to the comforting warmth in his chest.

“My soulmate,” Byron...