Helena's POV
I awaken to suffocating warmth. Asher's muscular arm drapes across my waist like a lead weight, while Patrick's palm rests possessively on my thigh. Their bodies press against me from both sides, trapping me between them on the narrow mattress.
A subtle movement catches my eye, accompanied by the sweet fragrance of wild raspberries drifting through the air.
Victor stands there like a phantom materialized from starlight. His shoulder rests against the wooden bedpost, hands buried deep in his pockets, obsidian hair tumbling across his forehead. His scent wraps around me, intoxicating and familiar. The reminder that one bond remains incomplete between us.
"You have no business being here," I breathe.
His head angles slightly, but I cannot decipher his expression. "I found it impossible to keep my distance."
Asher and Patrick begin to stir on either side of me. Their muscles tense as they detect the unwelcome presence in our sanctuary.
