It wasn't cold. It was scorching. And sharp.
Something inside him was being stabbed and pounded and shattered until there was nothing he could do but gasp sharply, loudly. It was painful, as if his muscles were being shredded. Only, it didn't happen to his physical muscles, but his mind. His subconscious space.
As if his lungs were robbed of air, Eugene gasped soundlessly, fingers clawing the alpha's skin as the injection pen clattered to the floor. He felt cold, and scared, and alone, until a stream of rough, but warm branches enveloped him in a cocoon, as if protecting him from all the harsh and cruel things in the world.
"Baby...Gin, baby," a voice came through the cocoon; from the cocoon. "Gin, I'm here."
