Page 95 of Taken

Chapter 26

Lila

I wake to softness beneath me and stillness around me. For one terrifying moment, I think I’m back in that cell, that everything—the escape, the helicopter, Hargen—was just another cruel vision torn from my mind.

Then I smell it: pine and cedar, fresh air, nothing like the antiseptic sterility of the Syndicate. I force my eyes open, blinking against gentle light filtering through wooden slats. A cabin. I’m in a bed. A real bed, not a medical cot, with soft blankets and a pillow that cradles my head.

“She’s awake,” someone says.

Footsteps approach. A face appears above me—the red-haired woman, Zoe. Her expression is unreadable, but her eyes are sharp, assessing.

“Where—?” My voice breaks, throat dry as sand.

“Aurora sanctuary,” she answers, offering a glass of water. “Cascade Mountains. You’ve been unconscious for two days.”

I struggle to sit up, arms trembling beneath my weight. The effort leaves me breathless. Zoe helps, adjusting pillows behind me. I sip the water, the simple pleasure of it almost overwhelming.

“Hargen?”

“Alive, thanks to your little stunt.” She doesn’t sound particularly grateful. “Though you nearly killed yourself in the process.”

Memory floods back—the ritual, the Shard, the binding flaring between us. The flood of his memories and emotions. I touch my pocket reflexively, looking for the crystal.

“We’ve secured the Shard,” Zoe says, noting the gesture. “Viktor will want to discuss it with you when you’re stronger.”

“I want it back.” It’s a demand that carries little weight; my voice is thready.

“I’m sure you do.” She stands, smoothing her shirt with precise movements. “You have visitors waiting. One at a time only. Doctor’s orders. But first…” She nods toward a tray on the bedside table. “Eat.”

I stare at the simple tray—a cheese sandwich cut in half and a steaming mug of tea. My hands shake as I reach for it. Bland nutritional supplements and monitored caloric intake make this modest meal seem like a feast.

The first bite nearly undoes me. Sharp cheddar, soft bread—flavors explode across my tongue, overwhelming after so long. I close my eyes, savoring each mouthful with embarrassing intensity. The tea burns pleasantly down my throat, sweetened with honey.

“It’s just a sandwich,” Zoe says, watching me with something between curiosity and amusement.

I swallow, fighting unexpected tears. “You have no idea what it’s like,” I whisper, “to not eat cheese for twenty years.”

I finish every crumb, licking a spot of butter from my thumb without shame. Simple pleasures I’d forgotten existed.

“Right. I’ll let them know you’re ready.” She leaves before I can respond, the door clicking shut behind her. I take another sip of tea, letting my gaze wander around the room. Basic furnishings, wooden walls, a window showing snow-dusted pines. A real window, with no bars, no reinforced glass. The sight of the sky beyond it makes my heart stutter.

The door opens again. Talon steps in, and something in me loosens at the sight of him. He’s changed clothes—dark jeans, a shirt that stretches across shoulders too broad to be entirely human. The dragon still lives close to his skin; I can sense it now that I know what to look for.

“You’re awake,” he says, approaching the bed. “Good. You had us worried.”

“Hargen?” I ask again, needing confirmation from someone I trust. The thought startles me—when did I start trusting this man?

Probably from the very beginning, I realize.

“Recovering well.” Talon pulls a chair closer, sitting beside the bed. “Whatever you did with the Shard, it worked. The damage is healing faster than should be possible.”

Relief floods me, followed quickly by exhaustion. “And the Syndicate?”

“No sign of pursuit so far. The sanctuary is well-hidden, protected.” His eyes study my face. “You need rest.”

“I’ve been asleep for two days,” I point out, attempting to shift my position and wincing as my muscles protest.

“Not sleep. Recovery. What you did with the Shard—”

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