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 wake up. Come back

No way.

here, in

back. This is not where

place for me? But I'm here, in this serenity of darkness. I feel pain,

die, Ava. You're

Alive.

Alive means death—

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

* * *

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

Ava.

my mind, comforting. Grounding. I try to speak but my throat

I turn my head slowly, painfully. She's there,

awake. Relief colors her

and

now. She nuzzles into my arm. I want to protest

name, but I'm already

* * *

monitor. The chemical scent of disinfectant. Starched sheets rough against my skin. An IV pinches

eyelids are heavy but I force them open. The ceiling swims into focus—white tiles, fluorescent lights. A hospital. Selene is curled up

relief washes

here. They're asking me questions, one talking over the other.

out?" I rasp, my throat

softly.

Lucas asks, way too close to

pipes up, from

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

an entire process that leaves

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

a hospital gown, blankets pooled around my waist. My hair

as I waver, dizzy. You've been through

I ended up here. Training with Jericho

black hole in my

"What happened to me?"

us, a feeling of comfort, and the urge to press my cheek into

thinks your wolf is trying to emerge. Do you feel any

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 she licks my face, settling into my lap

way too

my unease. This is natural for

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