( Demetria's chamber)
Dante woke up with a soundless jolt.
A stabbing pain cleaved through the center of his skull, sharp enough to blur the edges of his reality. He hissed, instinctively bringing his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose.
"What…the hell…"
He drew in a shaky breath, waiting for the world around him to settle…but it didn't. The air felt too warm. The sheets beneath him were too soft. The scent around the space was familiar but too feminine…it definitely didn't belong to him.
His thick lashes lifted slowly.
The ceiling above him was familiar too.
This was his mother's room. Dante looked down at the spot where he was sitting.
His mother's bed.
His pulse hammered against his ribs as he pushed himself upright, head throbbing with each inch. The room spun in a lazy, nauseating tilt, like someone had rotated the world by forty five degrees without warning.
"Why the hell am I here? What the hell happened…"
