I carried Seraphina out of the hideout, her scent—vanilla, lavender, and raw lust—surrounding me like a cloud. Every breath I took was saturated with it, filling my lungs and clouding my judgment. She felt impossibly light in my arms, yet the weight of my responsibility toward her pressed down on me like a mountain.
Her head lolled against my chest, her lips occasionally brushing my skin and sending electric currents straight to my core. The drug was burning through her system, turning her body into a furnace of need. Even through the blanket I'd wrapped around her, I could feel the unnatural heat radiating from her skin.
Hudson was waiting by the car, his eyes widening as I approached with my precious cargo.
"Sir, she needs—" he began, but fell silent when I growled.
"Drive to the villa," I ordered, sliding into the back seat with Seraphina still cradled in my arms.
"The hospital might be better equipped to—"