She’s dressed in the same hospital apparel as the other doctors, and she takes a brief moment to scan my injuries before reaching for Jenna.
“It’s getting late,” she says.
Jenna gladly accepts her hand, gripping the woman tightly as she hops off the side of my bed. Her feet thump against the hard floor as she lands on it.
Turning back to me, Jenna removes the IV from my arm and sets it somewhere behind my head.
“Your body will hurt as the medicine wears off, but we were able to convince Damien to give us just enough of his blood that you’re going to be fine. Get some sleep, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning to show you around.”
She’s gone a second later, and I stare at her retreating form before sagging against the bed.
I was thoroughly prepared for my death, so convinced the woods would be the end of me that I don’t know how to feel about being spared. I’m happy to be alive, but my role here has me questioning that.
Am I supposed to be a wife to some man I don’t know? Jenna says he won’t hurt me, but I know better than to believe that. My only comfort is that she seems happy. We were never close, but we were friendly and I don’t think she’d lie.
Jenna has always been kind, and I’d like to believe that hasn’t changed.
I hear people beyond the curtain moving around, but the footsteps are light and I have to strain to hear them. There’s less commotion now than there was when I first woke, and I wonder if it’s everybody leaving for the night. I was sent into the woods at dusk when the beasts are most active, so it’s got to be quite late by now.
Eventually, the entire building grows silent, the only noises being the crinkles of the sheet I lie on. I don’t even hear the others I saw lying on the other beds in here earlier.
The medicine begins to wear off shortly after the place goes empty, and I force myself to inhale slowly through my nose before releasing the air quickly through my lips. Jenna’s reminder that I should heal soon is the only thought that runs through my head as I lie as stiff as a board in bed, every movement sending fire through my body.
I’d kill to have that IV back.
Chapter Three
AINE
My body screamsfor me to lie back down as I throw my legs over the side of the bed. Despite Jenna’s order to wait, my anxiety’s gotten the better of me, forcing me to get up so I can take a look around.
All night, I’ve worried about the beasts, my mind replaying her words and wondering about the likelihood of me having completely imagined them all. I was pretty drugged up, so it wouldn’t be too surprising to learn that I hallucinated everything.
The wounds on my thighs sting as I put my full weight on them, and I grab on to the thin mattress in panic as my knees buckle underneath the pressure. Sucking in a deep breath, I take a moment to stabilize myself before releasing the bed and making my way to the curtain separating me from the rest of the room.
My movements are slow as I fight through the pain, an uncomfortable cold sweat pebbling up against my skin, but I continue forward. I can’t wait any longer for answers.
The fabric of the curtain is soft and thick as I grab on to it, fisting the material in my hand for a moment before pulling it to the side. I’m met with an empty room, most of the injured from last night having gotten up and left long ago. There are a few who remain, their bodies unnaturally large in the small hospital beds. I resist making any noises as I inch forward and evaluate the man closest to me.
He’s tall, a good head above even the largest men from my old village, but that’s not what stands out. It’s his muscles that capture my attention, the thickness of them alarming. Even our farmers and strongmen aren’t this big, and I stare at his biceps with horror.
Even in his sleep, he’s terrifying.
My eyes trail down his bare chest, and I step back as I watch his ribs expand with breath. He’s hairy, and it looks like he does more ab workouts than necessary.
He’s got to be a beast.
My mind is still a bit fuzzy, but I ignore it and scan the room for an exit. This room is bare minus the hospital beds, with one hallway to my right and an unlabeled door directly to my left. Hoping that’s the door that will take me outside and I won’t need to drag myself down an entire hallway, I begin to quietly shuffle in that direction.
I’m unable to lift my legs high enough to disconnect my toes from the ground, but I manage to make good time by using the empty beds I pass for support. Footfalls echo as somebody turns and begins walking down the hallway, but I ignore them and continue my escape.
Maybe they won’t notice me.
“Can I help you?”
I flinch, slowing, but I don’t turn around.
“I’m just looking for some fresh air.”