Kinsley’s POV
I turn over in bed, my hand brushing Terron’s face. He isn’t laying down though, but instead kneeling by the bedside, his eyes bloodshot and exhausted. I feel similar symptoms, my head pounding in a pain that hasn’t lifted and my eyes are still dry and hot.
I blink slowly at my mate, his unwavering rage still profound in waves that slam over my body in bed.
“Terron. What—” I swallow hard, choking on the drought in my throat.
“Tell me what happened,” he says, his tone strangled and upset. I think I see a tear being held at bay, but I don’t mention it, sitting up in bed while the splitting headache strikes my temple. “Please, Kinsley. Just tell me what happened.”
Still half asleep, I linger upright, woozy, and threatening to fall forward. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Terron. We were at the party and—” I swallow hard, recalling the night but nothing comes to mind. “I don’t—I don’t know.”