Zara
Three days after the poison dripped into my veins, the storm inside my body finally breaks.
The violent, gut-wrenching nausea that usually leaves me shattered has receded to a dull, manageable ache. My appetite is slowly creeping back, my legs no longer feel like hollow glass, and the gray, sickly cast to my skin has yielded to a faint, rosy flush.
Jade stayed through the worst of it. For seventy-two hours, she transformed our living space into a command center of ice packs, clear broths, ginger tea, and endless bad reality television.
She hovered over me like a fierce, protective hawk until an hour ago, when Mayhem finally drove up to the penthouse to collect her and bring her back home. She gave me a bone-crushing hug, threatened to beat Locke within an inch of his life if he d
