Chapter 14
Chase Silverthorn woke slowly, blinking up at an unfamiliar ceiling, and for a long moment he simply lay still, waiting for the pain to hit the way it had every morning for the past three weeks.
It did not come.
Or rather, it came, but softer, a dull ache pulsing low in his side instead of the sharp, grinding burn that had kept him gritting his teeth through every waking hour since the attack. He drew in a slow breath, testing it, half expecting the familiar spike of agony to follow.
Nothing. Just the ache, distant and manageable, like a bruise healing rather than a wound actively tearing itself wider.
He sat up carefully, bracing for the worst, and when it did not come, he pressed a hand flat against his side, feeling the fabric of his shirt where the wound sat hidden bene
