Isla’s POV
I wake up gasping, violent and sharp. Like my body dragged me out of something before I could see how it ended. My chest rises too fast, breath catching halfway in my throat as I stare up at the ceiling, disoriented for a second.
Dark room, faint city light slipping through the curtains. Zayne’s arm is still draped over my waist.
I close my eyes again, trying to steady my breathing. But the feeling doesn’t go away. That lingering… fear. The kind that sticks to your skin even after the dream is gone.
Because the dream is gone, that’s the worst part. I can’t remember it clearly.
Was that a dream or did I sleepwalk? I suck in a breath.
No, that wasn’t just a dream. My stomach twists, because it felt familiar. Like something I’ve said before or something I’ve heard. I sit up
