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.

No way.

here, in

to come back. This is not where you

this serenity of darkness. I feel pain, but it doesn't kill me. It

die, Ava. You're

Alive.

Alive means death—

that's enough. Wake up. Stop feeling sorry

* * *

They feel like sandpaper scraping against my lids. Everything is

Ava.

comforting. Grounding. I try to speak

my palm. The slight weight of her head resting on my hand. I turn my head slowly, painfully. She's there, silver fur

awake. Relief colors

swallow dryly, my tongue heavy and thick. "What happened?" The words

into my arm. I want

name,

* * *

steady beep of a heart monitor. The chemical scent of disinfectant. Starched sheets rough against my

them open. The ceiling swims into focus—white tiles, fluorescent lights. A hospital. Selene is curled up

back. Her relief

are here. They're asking me questions, one talking over the other. It's painful to

I out?" I rasp, my

softly.

okay?" Lucas asks,

Lisa pipes up, from my

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

entire process

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 the elbow of

hospital gown, blankets pooled around my waist. My hair is lank and

as I waver,

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

black hole in

"What happened to me?"

Warmth flows between us, a feeling of comfort, and the urge to press my cheek into his hand,

know for sure. Vanessa thinks your wolf is trying to emerge. Do you feel

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, disguised as a husky for a reason she has yet to explain, and her ears flick

She's way too big

my unease. This

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