Page 13 of Court of Aether and Shadows

The echo of the pleasure he had given me lingered, a warmth in my core that defied the chill of the hospital room. I couldn’t even confirm if that was where I was, but the mere thought already had me slipping away, exhaustion taking over.

I found myself longing for the world I'd left behind, and I’m sure my mind was desperate for us to return. To be in those comforting strong arms and return to a world of darkness and magic, where I was more than just a broken girl trying to survive.

A world where I was wanted, desired... loved?

I closed my eyes while I relished what happened, allowing myself to drift away.

Remember…that’s all I can hope to do for my Shadowed King.

The Whispers Of Another World

~SPARROW~

The first thing I became aware of was pain.

It radiated through my body in dull waves, centering on my left side where I vaguely remembered being shot. The second thing I noticed was the smell – antiseptic and copper, undercut by something earthier.

Definitely not a hospital.

Now it clues in that I had to have been hallucinating to think I’d be in an actual hospital.We’re not that privileged. Not people like me anyway.Guess being on the brink of death can do that to you.

Wishful thinking when you’re on the borders of life and six feet under.

I cracked open my eyes, blinking against the harsh fluorescent lighting. The ceiling above me was bare concrete, water stains mapping out continents I'd never visited.

Turning my head slightly, I took in my surroundings.

I was lying on a narrow cot in what appeared to be a converted storage room. Medical equipment beeped softly beside me, and various crates and shelves lined the walls, filled with supplies I couldn't quite make out.

"Well, look who's finally decided to rejoin the land of the living."

The voice was warm and husky, with just a hint of amusement.

I turned towards it, wincing as the movement pulled at my wound. A woman stood in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest.

She was older, maybe in her thirties, with brunette roots that shifted into steel-silver hair pulled back in a severe bun. Even though I was assuming her age, her face was a map of laugh lines and frown lines in equal measure.

She could have lived a harsh life like my daily occurrence and the stress of survival was easing into her facial lines, stealing her youth, or maybe that’s just how her genetics worked.

Her eyes – a startling shade of violet – sparkled with intelligence.

"Where am I?" I croaked, my throat dry and scratchy.

The woman moved into the room, reaching a table with two empty glasses and a pitcher that I had to assume was filled with water. Pouring a glass, she decides to grace me with some answers.

"Somewhere safe," she said, before walking back to the bed. Lowering the glass, she doesn’t hesitate to help me sit up slightly so I can be at the right angle to sip the cool liquid. I’d be lying if I pretended I wasn’t desperate for some hydration. "Or as safe as people like us ever get."

As the fog of unconsciousness cleared, memories started flooding back.

The warehouse. The job gone sideways. The bullet...

"How long have I been out?" I asked, settling back against the thin pillow once I’ve downed not one, but three glasses of chilled water.

"Three days," the woman replied, checking the IV bag hanging beside my bed. I’m still in shock as it dawns upon me that I was really unconscious for that length of time.

Was the dream that long? It couldn’t be. It felt so fast. Shit…three fucking days?! Boss is going to be pissed.

"And you're lucky it wasn't permanent. That bullet was laced with something nasty. If your friend hadn't gotten you here as quickly as he did, we might be having a very different conversation right now."

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