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My head keeps spinning like a tape on a worn out music player. A throb of pain accompanies it, and something tells me to stop spinning or I'll be completely wrecked.

I stopped because I found myself asleep at some point, and someone carried me to a comfortable bed. I actually fell asleep, the warmth that covered my whole body allowed me to do it, and then I woke up in the morning.

Still at Rhysand's club, in his bed, and I'm alone.

But I know that before he was here, and then gone.

Inhaling slowly, I tried to get up from my lying position and rubbed my face roughly. The throbbing in my head came back and it wasn't a good thing. I'm going to be sick.

Maybe it's all because of the stress that attacks me, and my head can't hold it.

I'm going to be sick.

And I will look helpless again in his eyes. Why am I this weak?

Groaning softly to shake off the frustration that had taken over me, I rubbed my face with my two hands again, and then gazed out at the cityscape through the glass wall that