Chapter 13It started as an itch under the edges of the bandage, Westley absently rubbing his cut palm against his thigh. It was the little annoyance that accompanied healthy healing, a process sped up by Nicolaj’s wonderful poultice, and would pass with time. Swimming along the edge of consciousness, barely awake, he went to grasp for the blanket while simultaneously rolling to his side, all the while expecting to snuggle up to the comforting warmth of his man. Instead, his eyes shot open to witness the brief moment of falling through the air before he hit the floor with an uncomfortable thud. It was hard, cold, and unforgiving, the plush gray carpet of their bedroom replaced with tile. He’d fallen only a foot or two, but the impact, combined with the shock, rattled the oxygen from his lun
