Morning crept slowly into the chamber, the first pale strands of sunlight slipping past the curtains and casting a soft glow across the room. Nathan stirred awake, feeling the warmth of Servilia's sleeping form beside him before awareness returned fully to his body.
Then the pain hit.
A sharp groan escaped him as the familiar torment of the curses surged back into his veins like molten iron. His body tensed, arching involuntarily; he writhed against the sheets as waves of agony pulsed through him with vindictive persistence.
For a moment he clenched his teeth, fighting a low growl of frustration.
He had managed to sleep last night—miraculously, almost impossibly—despite the constant pressure of the curses. Perhaps exhaustion had finally caught up to him; the last few days had pushed him far beyond his limits. And the sex with Elin and Freja had helped lull his mind into rare stillness, easing him into rest he desperately needed.
But now the reprieve was gone.
