Lucian stood by the French windows, eyes shut, fists clenched tightly.

Suddenly, a wave of pain shot through his hand. He furrowed his brows, opened his eyes, and looked at his left hand.

The wound had stopped bleeding, and the shards of glass had been washed away by the sea. A delayed sting from the saltwater finally reached

his brain.

He felt a chill run down his spine.

In his rush to save Allison, he had completely forgotten about the injury on his hand.

He found the first–aid kit, took out some disinfectant, and quickly bandaged himself up.

Then he slumped into a lounge chair, overcome with fatigue, and shut his eyes.

He didn’t know how much time had passed when he suddenly jerked awake,

He dreamed of Allison being swept away by the sea.

drenched in sweat. Why

Where was Allison?

looked around the empty room. Where the

woman get drunk and

Shoot!

open the bathroom door and found the woman

had changed into a bathrobe and was curled up in bed.

a sigh

over, bent down, and looked at her peaceful, sleeping

with steam. Her cheeks were flushed.

her sleeping face was incredibly serene, like a

profile, bent down, and picked her up. Startled awake by his movement, she blinked drowsily and asked,

didn’t know how to control the anger bubbling up in his

just call

was drowsy and tired; she barely lifted her eyelids before closing them again. “Jason,

anger in Lucian’s eyes flared up.

He gritted his teeth, holding her even

“Ouch, that hurts!”

was hurting.

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