Owen's consciousness returned slowly.
At first, there was nothing but heat.
It crawled beneath his skin, heavy and suffocating, as if his entire body had been set on fire from the inside.
His head throbbed. His vision was dark, his thoughts scattered.
A faint sound reached him…
"haa..haa."
His own… breathing. He forced his eyes open.
"Argh."
The ceiling above him blurred into shifting shapes. The dim lights of the VIP room stretched unnaturally, streaking across his vision.
He inhaled deeply. His throat was dry.
His shirt clung to his chest with sweat. Every nerve in his body aches with need. Even the brush of fabric against his skin made his muscles tense.
"ngh…"
A low sound escaped him, he blinked slowly again.
Beside him, Lilian stiffened.
"Owen?" she whispered.
Relief flashed across her face. "You're awake." She leaned closer, her hand hovering near his arm.
