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.

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81 Ava: Wounded

back soon. For now, we need to

I can feel the movement. I must not have nodded before, when I thought I did.

is a little more intense, too.

carefully, and I realize we’re no longer in the SUV from before. This vehicle is

in the back.

How odd.

me onto a makeshift bed of blankets

his movements gentle yet purposeful. I wince as the

really fucking hurts.

definitely not paraplegic.

on my arm for a moment. “You’ve been through

what’s happening, but the words refuse to

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3/8

Ava:

I nod again, my eyelids growing heavy

exhaustion.

climbs in beside me.

Luna. My name is Vanessa, and I’m a pack healer. I’m about to administer some medicine to

you a

understand me?”

the word appealing to

have to

There’s a lot of movement

prodding. “Big pinch,” she warns, and I yelp at the sting that comes

as she continues doing something to my arm. “Going in,” she murmurs. “You should

like my head’s about to detach to fly high into the sky, like a balloon that’s escaped.

***

is white, and the distinct scent

13:14

81 Ava Wounded.

makes my nose cringe.

A few dents, and a couple holes. Probably

full of liquid hanging from an IV pole. There’s an IV in

colors.

SpO2 99%.

RR 12.

PR bpm 61.

109/63.

for me to understand

after a

rate, heart rate, blood pressure.

in a

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

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81 Ava: Wounded

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