Emerald woke to the weight of silence and the ache in her body.
Her lashes fluttered open slowly, the faint afternoon light slanting across the curtains. Every muscle screamed when she shifted, but the soreness between her thighs was the worst. It was raw, stretched, and throbbing with the memory of what had happened.
She winced as she drew her knees together, the faint stickiness on her skin reminding her of the morning activities.
A shudder ran through her, not of shame, but of overwhelming, bone-deep exhaustion mixed with bliss.
For the first time in days, the feverish burn of her heat wasn't clawing her alive. It was quiet, slightly manageable.
She exhaled shakily. Thank the Goddess.
But Viola's voice purred inside her mind. "Grateful now, are we?"
Emerald groaned, dragging the blanket tighter around her. "Don't start."
