In the quiet of the night, at three o'clock in the morning, Emerald began to stir beneath the thick, plush blanket enveloping her from the neck down. Her eyelids felt heavy, and her mouth tasted unpleasantly dry as she moistened her parched lips with her tongue. Slowly opening her hooded eyes and adjusting to her surroundings, she scanned the dimly lit room, trying to place her location. Black drapes at the windows, a large fluffy rug near the automatic fireplace, his extended black leather sofa; she recognized this room. She was in Oliver's room once again.
Rubbing her throbbing head, Emerald struggled to sit up, her body weighed down by the lingering effects of the potent sedatives circulating in her system. With a small grunt of discomfort, she noticed a motionless figure lying in the
