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.

peaceful here, in

This is not where

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

die,

Alive.

Alive means death—

feeling sorry for

* * *

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

Ava.

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

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

awake. Relief colors her

tongue heavy and

Rest now. She nuzzles into my arm. I want

calling my name, but

* * *

returns gradually. The steady beep of a heart monitor. The chemical scent of disinfectant. Starched sheets rough against my skin. An IV pinches

force them open. The ceiling swims into focus—white tiles,

Her relief

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

I rasp, my throat raw

softly. We were

okay?" Lucas asks, way too close to

are you feeling?" Lisa pipes up, from my

like a punch to the gut. I struggle to sit up, my muscles weak and uncooperative. Selene helps, bracing her body against mine, and both

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

a hospital gown, blankets pooled around my waist.

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

mind back, trying to piece together how I

black hole

"What happened to me?"

Warmth flows between us, a feeling of comfort, and the urge to press my

wolf is trying to emerge. Do you

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

not. She's way too

soothes, sensing my unease. This is natural for

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