Page 3 of Savage Torment

This time, when my mind rouses from the pits of bleakness, I feel more present, more alert, but the weight falling on my eyelids is still unbearable.

If they’re not going to open, I need to focus on another part of my body before I’m summoned back into the murky shadows of my mind. I start at my toes, wiggling them, or attempting to at least, but I fail miserably.

My breaths come a little faster now, frustration getting the better of me, and all of the fire burning inside, as dim as it may be, freezes when a hand lands on my arm. Calloused fingers run over my skin as they grip my wrists, the warmth sizzling as they shift their position to sweep their thumb back and forth over my hand.

Someone’s here.

I’m not alone.

Despite being unaware of the who or how, I settle my thoughts on the why.

Why am I here? Where the hell am I?

Racking my mind, I try to recall the last thing I remember, when a daunting feeling washes over me. If I don’t remember anything, is it because of a vampire again… because of Blaze?

But the wolf’s bane…

It’s impossible to gulp the panic down, my throat is too dry for any of that. Instead, I work my way back through my memory to the last thing I remember.

Busy.

I remember it being insanely busy. People bustling around me like I didn’t exist, but I wasn’t alone… I was with… a flash of Minnie’s smile appears in my mind, followed swiftly by Lincoln’s usual scowl, Asher’s attentive eyes, Wylder’s looming frame, and Tatum’s serene aura that blankets me every time I’m in his presence.

Is that who’s here with me now?

I calm with the thought.

I’m in safe hands, even if I don’t recall how I ended up here to begin with.

The last thing I specifically remember is entering a building with the five of them. Everything after that is as dark as the shadows I’m sleeping in. The mere thought of sleep has my body melting back into the mattress beneath me.

I push against the desire for sleep, but it’s inevitable as the thumb repeatedly sweeps back and forth across the back of my hand, lulling me further into slumber. I swear I hear a voice, a whisper, a name, but the darkness claims me nonetheless. Only this time, it’s not complete emptiness that greets me. Instead, I’m drowning in two words I don’t understand.

Amica Mea.

It’s bright.Toobright.

My eyes squint, trying to see through the haze as a sterile white-washed room comes into view. A door faces directly across from me, the square piece of glass in the center offering no hint of what lies outside.

I run my tongue over my dry, rough lips as I scan the rest of the room. An empty cream chair sits to my right, a nurse’s station positioned against the wall behind it, with no inclination of where I am, but when I peer down at the length of myself, I quickly realize I’m not in a normal bed.

White sheets tuck me in, and my clothes are gone, replaced with a thin, striped garment.

Frowning, I shake my head in disbelief, but the motion instantly leaves me dizzy, so I focus on the left side of the room as my eyelids manage to open fully, adjusting to the lights.

Another chair sits to my left, only this one has a guest. A sleeping guest whose hand is wrapped around mine tightly, as if they have to make sure I am still here.

The gesture doesn’t surprise me, it’s the person behind it who does.

Gulping, I try to yank my hand from his grasp, but the movement quickly bolts his eyes open. He scans the room, hand gripping me in a deathly hold until he realizes there’s no immediate danger. His grasp softens as he turns to look at me, and the second he finds my gaze set on him, he pauses, fingers flexing once again.

“You’re awake.” His voice is thick and gravelly, and it does something to me, but I quickly wave it off, focusing on his mere presence.

“Blaze?” My voice is raspy, every sound tearing at my dry throat.

I don’t know what I expect from him, but what happens next wasn’t even on my list of possibilities.

His hold on my wrist falls away as he rises from the chair, limbs stretching for miles as he reaches behind him. A moment later, he’s standing in front of me with a glass of water in hand and a straw pointed in my direction.

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