THE HUNTER AWAKES

Russo's POV

I woke with a throbbing headache, the kind that pulsed behind my eyes and made every sound feel like a knife slicing through my skull. For a moment, I just lay there, blinking up at the ceiling as I tried to piece together why I felt like I’d been run over by a truck. The room was dim, the curtains drawn tightly shut, but the light that seeped through was enough to send a sharp jolt of pain through my temples.

With a groan, I pushed myself up, rubbing my eyes and trying to shake off the fog that clung stubbornly to my mind. Something was wrong. I could feel it, an unsettling hum just beneath my skin. I glanced around, my gaze falling on the empty dishes on the table, the faint smell of something bitter lingering in the air. The memory of last night came rushing back, Cleo’s guarded compliance, her soft smiles, the meal she had insisted on preparing.

I reached for the plate, sniffing the rim, and the realization hit me like a punch to the gut. Drugged. She’d drugged me. And