Lucain's eyes fluttered open, his vision slowly adjusting to the soft glow of a dimly lit room. An unfamiliar ceiling greeted him plain and quiet. His brows furrowed in confusion. Where… am I?
He tried to sit up, but the moment he moved, a sharp pain pierced his abdomen. A strangled grunt escaped his lips, his body instantly rebelling against the effort. He clutched at his stomach instinctively, feeling the rough texture of fresh bandages pressing against tender skin.
What the hell happened to me…?
His gaze scanned the small room, finally landing on a figure slumped by the side of his bed. A girl. She was half-kneeling, her upper body leaning onto the bed, her head resting near his arm. Her soft breathing told him she was asleep. Strands of her hair had fallen over her face, her hand still loosely wrapped around a damp cloth like she'd been caring for him and passed out from exhaustion.
Cassandra…?
