Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 112

Chapter 112 Ava: Waking Up

Darkness.

Light.

So cold.

It burns.

My lungs ache.

Something's holding me down.

There are whispers. Prayers, I think.

Chaos reigns in this hazy world. Something beeps incessantly.

I'm sweating. My hands are too warm.

… up.

What's that?

… Ava, you…

Who's that?

… can you hear me?

I struggle to reach the voice that calls me, but something sucks me away again.

Frustration simmers, but I'm too tired to fight it.

Ava, you have to wake up.

There it is again.

I know you can hear me, because I can finally hear you.

Hear me? Hear me what? Am I talking?

Yes.

No, I don't think I'm talking. I'm too tired. My body is crushed beneath the earth. Fire ate every last bit of me. I drowned. The air was sucked away.

You're alive. You're asleep in the hospital. You're just fine. You just need to wake up.

No, no.

No, no, no.

Waking is pain.

I remember the pain.

no pain, Ava. Just wake up. Come

No way.

here, in this hazy

back. This is not

of darkness. I

die, Ava.

Alive.

Alive means death—

Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You never died.

* * *

feel like sandpaper scraping against my lids.

Ava.

I try

presses into my palm. The slight weight of her head resting on my hand. I turn my head slowly, painfully. She's there, silver fur shining, blue eyes bright with intelligence and

awake. Relief colors her

and thick.

She nuzzles into my arm. I

my name,

* * *

disinfectant. Starched sheets rough against my skin. An IV pinches

ceiling swims into focus—white tiles, fluorescent

relief

Lisa are here. They're asking me questions, one talking over

out?" I rasp, my throat raw

softly. We were so

you okay?" Lucas asks, way too close

are you feeling?" Lisa pipes up,

me like a punch to the gut. I struggle to sit up, my muscles weak and uncooperative. Selene helps, bracing her body against mine,

entire process that leaves me

take stock. My limbs feel stiff, atrophied. A needle pinches my hand, connected to an IV pole with a few bags hanging off it. One of the bags looks like milk, and that one's connected to yet another IV line in

around my waist. My hair is lank and greasy against my

waver, dizzy. You've been through

back, trying to piece together how I ended up here. Training with Jericho and Lisa. Collapsing on the

yawning black hole in my

"What happened to me?"

gentle against my skin. Warmth flows between us, a feeling of comfort, and the

your wolf is trying to emerge. Do you

I yearned to shift, to run beneath the moon. To be whole. But now, with all the strangeness surrounding my heritage, the idea fills me with trepidation. I flick a glance toward my wolf,

way too big

sensing my unease. This

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