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.

pain, Ava. Just wake up. Come back

No way.

peaceful here, in this

have to come back. This is not

darkness. I feel pain, but it doesn't

die,

Alive.

Alive means death—

sorry for yourself. You never

* * *

scraping against my lids. Everything is blurry, shapes indistinct. White. Harsh

Ava.

warm honey in my mind, comforting. Grounding. I try to speak but my throat is parched, voice a ragged

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

Relief

my tongue heavy and

arm. I want to protest but exhaustion drags

name, but

* * *

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

but I force them open. The ceiling swims into focus—white tiles, fluorescent lights.

relief washes

asking me questions, one talking over the

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

whines softly. We

okay?" Lucas asks, way too close

pipes up, from my

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

process that

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

gown, blankets pooled around my waist.

cautions as I waver, dizzy. You've been through

piece together how I ended up here. Training with Jericho and Lisa. Collapsing

hole in my

"What happened to me?"

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

wolf

with all the strangeness surrounding my heritage, the idea fills me with trepidation. I flick a glance toward

way too big

sensing my unease.

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