Above me are clouds. I think? Or maybe it’s a ceiling painted with clouds. The blue sky curves in an unnatural way, like I’m trapped inside a bubble.

Next, I move my arms and my legs, wincing at the buzz of pain that lances from my fingers to my shoulders. A movement from the corner of my eye summons my attention, and slowly, I twist my neck to be met with a pair of bronzed toes, the nails painted with creamy white, and the feet they’re attached to covered with a fall of soft white fabric.

Lor? My mind forms the word, but my mouth doesn’t move. My tongue is like faded canvas—dry and rough and thick and not much use. The feet move out of my vision, and I sense them walking around me as they circle to my other side. Once again, I perform a colossal feat by swerving my head to follow.

This time, the person bends down, balancing on their toes. A woman, who I’ve never seen before, stares at me. She’s beautiful, with golden blonde hair and bronzed skin framing a pair of striking aquamarine eyes. I want to ask who she is, but the organ inside my mouth sits limply, so I moan. It’s not all that dignified, but it’s all I can muster.

The woman tips her head and then tuts. Something about it irritates me, though I can’t really explain that either. Her expression isn’t one of pity or worry but instead of cold curiosity, which fires a warning in the back of my head. Who is this? Is she working with my father? I’m reminded of the sunlight and reason that can’t be it. He would have taken me back to The Aurora if he’d gotten the chance.

“You are in rough shape,” the woman says. Her voice is musical and beautiful, but if I listen carefully, I swear I can hear venom licking through each syllable. “Your mate really didn’t care at all about your well-being, did she? She just used her magic and”—the woman holds out a hand and springs her fingers out—“poof.”

My mate.

The taste and scent of Lor overcomes my dulled senses. Everything about her paints a picture in my mind. Those deep, dark eyes that see right into me. That soft skin and that mouth she uses to make my skin shiver with a kiss but also to cut me down a peg every chance she gets. I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve seen her, but I miss her like a burn singeing a hole straight through my chest. I wish I could speak or sit up or do anything but lie here like a lump of fucking nothing.