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 wake up. Come back

No way.

peaceful here, in this hazy

to come back. This is not where you should

of darkness. I feel pain, but it

won't die, Ava. You're

Alive.

Alive means death—

sorry for yourself. You never died.

* * *

crack open. They feel like sandpaper scraping against

Ava.

comforting. Grounding. I try to

wet nose 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

Relief colors her

tongue heavy and thick. "What happened?" The words scrape

arm. I want to protest but exhaustion drags me under

my name, but I'm

* * *

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

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

Her relief washes

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

was I out?" I rasp,

whines softly. We were

okay?" Lucas asks, way too

pipes

up, my muscles weak and uncooperative. Selene helps,

entire process

limbs feel stiff, atrophied. A needle pinches my hand, connected to an IV pole with a few bags hanging off it. One of

gown, blankets pooled around my waist. My

cautions as I waver,

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

black hole in

"What happened to me?"

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

your wolf is trying to emerge. Do

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

She's way too big for

soothes, sensing my unease. This

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