Anna's heavy eyelids fluttered open, and she instinctively tried to turn over, only to flinch as a deep, unfamiliar soreness in her lower back sent a sharp jolt through her body. A soft groan of discomfort escaped her lips.
For the first time since waking up in this hospital room, she had actually slept soundly—peacefully, even—free from the relentless nightmares that usually haunted her.
But as the reason for such restful sleep rushed back to her, warmth flooded her cheeks, turning them a deep shade of crimson. Her heart pounded, wild and erratic, like a caged bird suddenly desperate for freedom.
Last night had been... magical. Almost unreal.
But it had happened.
I slept with him... I slept with William Stark.
The realization jolted her upright, and as she moved, a light spring breeze drifted in through the open window, teasing over her bare skin.
