The silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating.
Zara barely registered the way Winter was still holding her up, one arm braced tightly around her back. Her head throbbed, her body felt like it had been wrung out and discarded, and every breath sent fresh waves of pain through her skull.
But it wasn't the pain that made her stomach clench.
It was Winter's silence.
She swallowed against the raw ache in her throat. His grip on her arms had eased, but his fingers still hovered at her sides, like he didn't trust her to stay upright. Not that she blamed him, she didn't trust herself to stay upright.
Zara barely noticed the moment Winter pulled away—only that, as soon as he did, the world tilted.
Her breath hitched. A sharp pulse of pain thrummed through her skull, spreading down her spine like molten iron. The room was wrong, shifting at the edges, her body sluggish to respond.
Winter caught her before she hit the floor.
