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.

will be no pain, Ava. Just wake up.

No way.

peaceful here, in this

come back. This is not where you

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

die, Ava.

Alive.

Alive means death—

Wake up. Stop feeling sorry

* * *

feel like sandpaper scraping against my lids.

Ava.

I try to speak but my throat

my hand. I turn my head slowly, painfully.

awake. Relief

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

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

name, but I'm already

* * *

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

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

relief washes

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

I out?" I rasp, my

Selene whines softly.

asks, way too

pipes

gut. I struggle to sit up, my muscles weak and uncooperative. Selene helps, bracing her body against mine, and both Lisa and Lucas rest

an entire process that leaves

feel 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

waist. My hair is lank and greasy against my

I waver, dizzy. You've been through

back, trying to piece together how I ended up here. Training with Jericho

hole

"What happened to me?"

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

wolf is trying to emerge. Do you feel

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 as though she's a lap

not. She's way

afraid, Selene soothes, sensing my unease. This

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