The world was becoming increasingly unstable, walls seeming to breathe and faces melting into abstract shapes. I tried to focus on Julian’s face, but even his features seemed to be shifting and blurring in disturbing ways.
“What did you give me?” I asked, though the words came out slurred and barely coherent.
“I gave you champagne, darling. Perhaps you’re not used to drinking alcohol of this quality.”
“This isn’t alcohol.” I stumbled, my legs feeling like they were made of rubber. “This is something else.”
“Isabella, you’re being dramatic. Let me get you somewhere quiet where you can rest—”
“No.”
The voice was sharp and authoritative, cutting through my disorientation like a blade. Marcus appeared beside us with silent efficiency, his dark eyes immediately assessing the situation wit
