Elias woke with a start. His eyes darted to the high ceiling and then to the white walls.
Wait, where was he?
He shot up, only to immediately regret it. A dull ache throbbed at his forehead. His hand flew there instinctively and gently rubbed. He scanned the room, trying to make sense of it. He pulled the silk sheets back, ready to move, when a door opened.
Elias froze, and his eyes went wide.
Cassian stepped out of the bathroom, steam curling around him. His long dark hair was damp, falling in loose strands around his face and neck. A white towel hung low on his hips, water gliding down the lines of his chest.
And good god, that chest.
His body was all tone and sculpted, black, intricate tattoos trailing up one arm and curling over his collarbone. His shoulders were broad, his abs defined. Cassian ran a hand through his wet hair, shaking it back. The motion drew attention to the way his torso flexed.
