Consciousness is fleeting and unreliable. The gentle vibration of the car is a cadence that lulls into a state of semi-awareness, reality blurring with dreams. I alternate between understanding that I'm safe to fearing that Phoenix has in his grasp. Sotis, 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.
So, not Lucas?
As my vision adjusts, I make out the rugged features of Kellan Ashbourne, Lucas's beta. His eyes are fixed on , 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 sumr day. Ah, I'm poetic in my 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 ss 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 for a mont, 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?
Kellan seems to sense my confusion. "Alpha is leading the mission, but he'll be back soon. For now, we need to get you to safety."
I nod again. This ti, I can feel the movent. I must not have nodded before, when I thought I did.
My pain is a little more intense, too.
Kellan shifts my weight carefully, and I realize we're no longer in the SUV from before. This vehicle is different, its interior stripped down to bare essentials. There are no chairs in the back.
How odd.
Kellan lowers onto a makeshift bed of blankets where the backseat should be, his movents gentle yet purposeful. I wince as the motion aggravates my injuries.
It really fucking hurts.
I'm definitely not paraplegic.
"Try to rest," he murmurs, his hand lingering on my arm for a mont. "You've been through a lot, but you're going to be okay."
I want to ask questions, to understand what's happening, but the words refuse to form on my lips. Instead, I nod again, my eyelids growing heavy with exhaustion.
Soone climbs in beside .
"Hello, Luna. My na is Vanessa, and I'm a pack healer. I'm about to administer so dicine to help with your pain and give you a little rest. Can you understand ?"
"Rest," I murmur, the word appealing to .
"Yes, so rest. I have to stabilize your injuries. You've lost a lot of blood." There's a lot of movent around my arm, and sothing cold. Then a bunch of poking and prodding. "Big pinch," she warns, and I yelp at the sting that cos just as she warns .
It fades, though, and I sigh in relief, even as she continues doing sothing to my arm. "Going in," she murmurs. "You should start feeling it pretty soon."
Dizziness attacks with a vengeance, and it feels like my head's about to detach to fly high into the sky, like a balloon that's escaped.
* * *
The ceiling is white, and the distinct scent of disinfectant makes my nose cringe.
I can see every detail of the ceiling. A few dents, and a couple holes. Probably from sothing that had hung from it once before.
Sliding my 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 lines in different colors.
SpO2 99%.
RR 12.
PR bpm 61.
109/63.
It takes a second for to understand them, but my brain cos online after a short ti.
Oxygen, respiratory rate, heart rate, blood pressure.
I'm in a hospital.
For a second I think I'm back on Aspen lands, but as I blink away my grogginess, I realize it isn't the sa. I'm in a smaller room, on a real bed. There are sheer curtains over my window, letting in soft daylight.
The world makes sense again.
I must have been taken to Westwood. To Lucas' pack.
Once my nose adjusts to the astringent scent of copious amounts of disinfectant, I can sll the faint scent of a campfire. It's a soothing aroma, one that triggers a sense of comfort and security deep within .
I'm wearing a shirt several sizes too large, and the scent cos from there.
It must be his shirt.
I guess they thought I'd need my mate's scent to stay calm as I heal.
I attempt to sit up, but pain explodes across my body. I groan, grabbing my side, where I feel the rough texture of bandages beneath the soft cotton fabric of Lucas' shirt.
mories return, and I flinch. Todd. Of course. The excruciating pain of his claws tearing into my flesh, his fangs tearing at my shoulders.
I shudder, rembered fear tingling in my veins.
I'm not made to fight.
The door opens quietly, and a woman steps into the room. She's dressed in scrubs, her dark hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. Her eyes widen slightly when she notices awake, and a warm smile spreads across her face.
"Good morning, Luna," she says, her voice soft and lodic. "How are you feeling?"
I open my mouth to respond, but my throat feels parched, and the words catch in my chest. The woman seems to understand and quickly pours a glass of water from a nearby pitcher.
"Here, drink this slowly," she instructs, helping sit up just enough to sip from the glass.
The cool liquid soothes my throat, and I manage a grateful nod. "Thank you," I rasp out.
"You're very welco," she replies, setting the glass back down. "My na is Vanessa. I'm one of the pack healers here at Westwood."
Westwood. The na sparks a flicker of recognition, and I rember Kellan's words from earlier—that they were taking to Westwood territory, to safety.
Definitely Lucas' pack, then.
"I'm not your Luna," I tell her, uncomfortable with the title.
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