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?

seems to sense my confusion. “Alpha is leading

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81 Ava: Wounded

back soon. For now, we need to get you to

I can feel the movement. I must not

is a little more intense, too.

the SUV from before. This vehicle is different, its interior stripped down to

in the

How odd.

a makeshift bed of

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

fucking

definitely not

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

want to ask questions, to understand what’s happening, but

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81 Ava: Wounded

my eyelids

exhaustion.

climbs in beside me.

I’m a pack

pain and give you a little rest. Can

understand me?”

I murmur, the word appealing to me.

have to stabilize your

of blood.” There’s a lot

cold. Then a bunch of poking and prodding. “Big pinch,” she warns, and I yelp

and I sigh in relief, even as she continues doing something to my arm. “Going in,” she murmurs. “You should start feeling it pretty

my head’s about to detach to fly high into the sky, like a

***

white, and the distinct scent

13:14

81 Ava Wounded.

my nose

and a couple holes. Probably from something that had hung from it once before.

clear bags full of liquid hanging from an IV pole. There’s an IV in my arm and

colors.

SpO2 99%.

RR 12.

PR bpm 61.

109/63.

me

comes online after

rate, heart rate,

a hospital.

I think I’m back on Aspen lands, but as I blink away my grogginess, I realize it isn’t the same. I’m in a smaller room, on a real bed. There are sheer curtains over my window, letting in soft daylight.

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81 Ava: Wounded

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