Michael Reese.
“. . . He’s waking up.”
I felt myself frown when an unfamiliar voice echoed in my head. It held a bit of rasp to it, sounding formal in a way. But the stranger’s voice didn’t bother me as much as how cold I felt. It was a different cold sensation, as I could tell my body was covered beneath something heavy and constricting. It didn’t take me long to realize that it was my heart which felt cold. It was missing a certain warmth.
It disturbed me how my heart gave out a beat when I felt a hand grab my own. The warmth it was aching for surged through my body, making me hum in satisfaction. I clenched my hand tightly around that heat source, carefully opening my eyes.
My eyes soon fell on the troubled pair of that handsome face. And just by looking at Hayden, everything that e
