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.

Ava. Just

No way.

here, in this hazy

come back. This is not where you

here, in this serenity of darkness. I feel pain, but it doesn't kill me. It isn't enough to

won't die, Ava. You're

Alive.

Alive means death—

enough. Wake up. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You never died. Wake.

* * *

against my

Ava.

try to speak but my throat

head resting on my hand. I turn my head

awake. Relief colors

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

I want to protest but

name, but

* * *

heart monitor. The chemical scent of disinfectant. Starched

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

Her relief

asking me questions, one talking over the other. It's painful to

I

softly.

asks, way

feeling?" Lisa pipes up, from

my muscles weak and uncooperative. Selene helps, bracing her body against mine, and both Lisa and Lucas rest their hands on my

process that leaves me

hand, connected to an IV pole with a few bags hanging

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

waver, dizzy. You've been

I ended up here. Training with

black hole

"What happened to me?"

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

wolf

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

way too

soothes, sensing my unease. This is natural for

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