Tangled

Chapter 81

81 Ava: Wounded

Consciousness is fleeting and unreliable. The gentle vibration of the car is a cadence that lulls me into a state of semi–awareness, reality blurring with dreams. I alternate between understanding that I’m safe to fearing that Phoenix has me in his grasp. Sometimes, I can hear Alpha Renard’s cruel words. I even dream of

Sister Miriam.

Suddenly, a voice cuts through the haze, piercing my muddled thoughts with startling clarity. It’s a voice I recognize, though I can’t quite place it. My eyelids flutter open, and I find myself enveloped in a pair of strong arms, cradled against a broad chest.

It feels wrong.

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As my vision adjusts, I make out the rugged features of Kellan Ashbourne, Lucas’s beta. His eyes are fixed on me, a mixture of concern and relief etched onto his

face.

“Ava,” he says, his voice gentle and soothing, like cool water after on a hot summer day. Ah, I’m poetic in my

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81 Ava: Wounded

delirium.

“You’re safe now. We’re taking you to Westwood

territory.”

I blink slowly, trying to make sense of his words. The events of the night are a jumbled mess in my mind. “Where are we?”

“In a small city. We’re still on Blackwood territory, and you aren’t safe here. Just bear with me for a moment, okay? You’re badly injured, did you know that?”

I nod. Yes, I hurt. It hurts everywhere. Who wouldn’t know when their body hurts? Oh. Maybe paraplegics.

“Yes. I can move my body,” I say, even as I lay like a limp

fish in his arms.

I can, though… I think.

Shit, everything’s hard to keep straight in my mind. I

wish Selene was here.

Or Lucas.

Where’s Lucas?

Wasn’t he here?

to sense my

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81 Ava: Wounded

he’ll be back soon. For now, we need

nod again. This time, I can feel the movement. I must not have nodded before, when I thought I did.

is a little more intense, too.

from before. This vehicle is different, its

in the back.

How odd.

onto a makeshift

be, his movements gentle yet purposeful. I wince as the motion aggravates my injuries.

fucking hurts.

definitely not

lingering on my arm for a moment. “You’ve been through a lot, but you’re going to be okay.”

but the words refuse to

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81 Ava: Wounded

nod again, my eyelids growing heavy with

exhaustion.

in

pack

your pain and give you a little rest.

understand me?”

word appealing to me.

have to stabilize your

a lot of blood.” There’s a

she

to my arm. “Going in,” she murmurs. “You should start

with a vengeance, and it feels like my head’s about to detach to

***

is white, and

13:14

81 Ava Wounded.

makes my

of the ceiling. A few dents, and a couple holes. Probably from something that had hung

head to the left, I can see clear bags full of liquid hanging from an IV pole. There’s an IV in my arm and a little monitor with squiggly

colors.

SpO2 99%.

RR 12.

PR bpm 61.

109/63.

for me to understand them,

after a

rate, heart

a

as I blink away my grogginess, I realize it isn’t the same. I’m in

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81 Ava: Wounded

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