The first thing Darin felt was warmth.
The kind that seeped into his body, gentle yet firm. A steady rise and fall beneath his head, the scent of something faintly floral in the air. His mind, still sluggish, struggled to grasp where he was. He felt… safe? Comfortable? That didn't seem right.
Memories drifted back in pieces. A fight. Blood. A voice that wasn't his. Power surging through his veins. Then—pain. Overwhelming, searing pain. His body had given out, crumpling under the weight of everything. And now… now he was—
Wait.
Why did the ground feel soft?
Why was something cool and smooth running through his hair?
Darin's brain clicked into place just as he realized his head was resting on something that was very much not the ground.
His eyes cracked open, vision still blurred, but just clear enough to take in the delicate curve of a thigh beneath him.
A very familiar thigh.
The sorceress's thigh.
Darin went completely rigid.
The hand in his hair stilled.
