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.

Just

No way.

here, in this

you have to come back. This is not where

darkness. I feel pain, but it doesn't kill me.

die, Ava. You're

Alive.

Alive means death—

up. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You never

* * *

feel like sandpaper scraping against my lids. Everything is blurry,

Ava.

is warm honey in my mind, comforting. Grounding. I try to speak

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

Relief

swallow dryly, my tongue heavy and thick. "What

Rest now. She nuzzles into my arm. I want to protest but exhaustion drags

my name, but

* * *

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

swims into focus—white tiles, fluorescent lights. A hospital. Selene is

back. Her relief washes

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

long was I out?" I rasp, my throat raw from

softly. We

Lucas asks, way too close to

pipes up, from my other

uncooperative. Selene helps, bracing her body against mine, and both Lisa

entire process

my hand, connected to an IV pole with a few bags hanging off it. One of the bags looks like milk, and that

waist. My hair is lank and greasy against my

waver, dizzy. You've been through a

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

hole

"What happened to me?"

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

wolf is trying to emerge. Do you

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

She's way too

my unease. This

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