Helena's POV
"Wake up, Little Zoey."
A frustrated groan escapes my throat as the sweet scent of raspberries drifts around me. "Stop calling me that ridiculous name."
Victor's deep laughter rumbles through the room. "How do you feel?"
My eyelids part reluctantly, revealing his obsidian eyes studying my face. Usually his expression remains cold and distant when he looks at me, but right now something warmer flickers in his gaze.
"Like I was thrown off a building and landed on concrete."
I attempt to push myself upright, but Victor's firm hand presses me back against the mattress. "Stay down. Your body is still recovering."
I drape an arm across my face and flex my toes experimentally. Every muscle protests with deep soreness, but it's the kind of ache that comes after a good stretch following hours of sleep. "What exactly happened to me?"
Victor gently moves my arm away from my eyes. The warmth in his expression has vanished, replaced by careful scrutiny. "You tell me."
