The first thing I felt was the cold. It wasn't the fresh, bracing chill of the mountain air; it was the biting, unforgiving frost of the marble floor seeping through my silk pajamas.
My neck was locked in a position that suggested I had been trying to emulate a pretzel, and my hip felt like it had been hammered into the stone.
I blinked, my eyelashes sticky with the salt of last night's breakdown. The room was flooded with the unapologetic brightness of a morning that had no business being so cheerful.
"Get up, you disaster," Nyla grumbled.
I felt a sudden, sharp heat radiate from my spine to my extremities. It was the tingle of wolf-healing. The dull ache in my joints dissolved, and the stiffness in my neck snapped back into place with a sound like dry twigs breaking.
I sat up, pushing my tangled hair out of my face, and that's when I saw him.
