Avery
Erik roared into consciousness, ripping the sheet, panting, and staring about wide-eyed. I flattened myself against the cool metal of the headboard to avoid his flailing limbs.
“Avery?” he said, his voice hoarse and uncertain.
“Are you okay?” I couldn’t keep the quaver out of my voice.
He shook his head as if trying to clear it, staring a long minute at his hands. “Just a dream.” He drove his hands through his hair, clutching his bent head.
I cautiously approached him and placed my hand against his shoulder, a flinch passed through him at the contact, and I pulled my hand back, damp with sweat.
Erik remained curled over, his head in his hands, so I shuffled closer, waiting for him to speak. He muttered something under his breath and his head whipped up. The tortured look in his
