For a moment, Ava thought she was dreaming.

The bed beneath her was too soft. The scent in the air of woodsy, expensive cologne mixed with something warm was too unfamiliar. Her lashes fluttered again, and when her vision cleared, she froze.

He was there.

Damien.

Sitting in a chair across the room, elbows resting on his knees, his cold, unreadable gaze fixed entirely on her.

Her chest tightened, and she breathed, hitching in her throat. Her body tensed beneath the blanket, his jacket still draped over her.

“What the hell?” Her voice cracked. She sat up abruptly, snatching the blanket around her as if it were armor. “What am...