Riven didn't understand why his body felt so heavy, why exhaustion wrapped around him like a thick fog. His limbs refused to move properly, his head lolled forward slightly, and his knees throbbed against the unforgiving cold floor. The sensation was eerily familiar—a forced sleep, a drugged haze.
"Damn it," Riven groggily thought. "Did I get knocked out again? That's the second time this week. I swear, if this keeps happening, I'll start losing brain cells. I can't afford that—I need those." How else will he come up with ideas to trap all the hot men in this world?
Riven suspected that it was the food that caused this! Such cruelty!
A dull ache settled in his shoulders, and as he tried to stretch or shift, he was met with resistance. That's when he realised: his arms were bound behind his back.
His shoulders will be stuck in place at this rate. They have been in the same position for about three days! Why couldn't life give him a break!
Great. Just great.
