Vincent’s POV
The world came back in fragments.
First, the ache in my chest, as though iron bands had been wrapped around my ribs. Every breath dragged against them, sharp and shallow. Then the cold sheen of sweat across my skin, sticky against the linens, soaking through the shirt someone had forced onto me. The faint scent of lavender oil burning in a dish nearby, meant to calm me, though it only made the pounding in my head heavier. And finally, a voice—soft, trembling, too close.
When my eyes opened, Delilah’s face filled my vision.
Her brows pulled together, her painted lips bent into a frown I wasn’t used to seeing. Delilah was always perfect—every curl set, every line of makeup sharp. But now the worry broke through that mask, and somehow, it hit me harder than the ache in my ch
