The vampire's voice was echoing, tugging at Theo's consciousness, stirring him to wake. He was speaking that most sacred name…
'Cora Winter.'
'Cora Winter.'
'Cora Winter.'
The voice sounded so deep and hypnotic.
'Cora Winter, you will forget that this male is your mate.'
Theo jolted awake as the voice roared to life in his ears—the auditory specter of a memory teasing him, tearing at his heart. His mate didn't remember him.
He was in an entirely different part of the palace now. This was a different room—a different cage with light gray tiles all along the floor and walls. He was panting and sweating, utterly exhausted. His shoulder was back in place, but there was the lingering memory of pain in nearly every part of his body—from his neck all the way down to his calves.
