THE SCENT of food woke
Torin. His mouth watered, and his stomach growled.
Opening his eyes, he surveyed
the room. Curtains now enclosed the medibed giving him some privacy. Machines
beeped, reading his vitals. Nevertheless, none of that indicated how much time
had passed. His muscles warmed as blood flow increased, and his stomach rumbled
again, more loudly this time.
There was something
missing. Someone, actually. Then he heard a low chime of bells and the scent of
the ocean washed over him.
“Well, I’d say you’re hungry.
I can hear that all the way over here. Just a moment, and I’ll be right there.”
So the male hadn’t
broken his word. Ridiculous how reassuring that was. Laken’s voice soothed him,
even if he couldn’t see him. Funny how the sweet melody from the bells Laken
wore in his hair had infiltrated his sleep.
That was what was
missing, and it should’ve made him uneasy. Blishue didn’t depend on anyone,
much less let their guard down, and that included around his own kind. But he’d
slept soundly with a stranger next to him. Very troublesome.
As were the annoying IVs.
That he hadn’t ripped out them out was its own minor miracle. Why hadn’t he
then? Being drugged left him vulnerable.
How many hits to the
head had he taken?
He stretched, his
joints popping. His mind was heavy and sluggish, but there was no pain. He eyed
the IV. This was ludicrous. He couldn’t think straight. Maybe he should yank it
out and—
“Ah, yeah, I wouldn’t
do that if I was you.” Laken nudged the curtain open and ducked inside.
The sight of Laken hit Torin
like a space shuttle. How had he not noticed the ice-blue gemstones that sparkled
in the overhead lights? They winked from his ears, wrists, ankles, and nipples.
The male had his nipples pierced.
His.
Nipples.
Pierced.
