Page 19 of Awakened and Betrayed
“Then you should give others a chance to earn it, instead of writing them off at your earliest convenience. I’m sorry you were hurt. Everyone else felt just as bad. Give them a chance to show you that they’re looking out for you. That they just might know what’s best.”
I narrow my eyes at Becket. How can he think that the elders or anyone else knows what’s best for me, when they don’t even know me?
“My little sister was murdered that way,” I tell him, my voice even, emotionless.
He was prepared for an argument, but I watch as the fight leaks out of Becket, like a sieve, at my words. His face fills with shock.
“She was thirteen when some fucking piece of shit wrapped his hands around her neck and stole her life. Should I write the elders and Caster Sawyer a thank you note for giving me a clear picture of what Laiken experienced before she died?” I shake my head and look away from Becket and the others, focusing on everything and nothing outside of the dark window. “But hey, I guess what happened was what’s best for me, right? I should just figure out how to trust others, who know nothing about me, to make my decisions.”
No one says anything. I turn and walk out of the living room, making my way down the hallway. I leave my rhetorical questions to float awkwardly amongst them in the living room. I’m too tired to continue this pointless conversation. I shut myself into my assigned room, pull off my pants, and climb into the bed, where sleep seizes me like a thief; stealing me away from my troubled and unsettling thoughts and memories.
11
My head feels heavy, and I groan as I lift it up off my chest. The cool air hits me, bringing with it the stale smell of mildew. I open my eyes and freeze. I’m in the same cellar I just escaped from. What the fuck is going on? I call on my throwing knives, but the familiar warmth and flow of magic is absent from my limbs. I try again. Nothing. I reach into the bright place that’s always existed inside of me, wondering why my magic isn’t answering my call. But it’s like a dying star sits ashen and crumbling inside my chest.
Panic tries to take hold of me, but I fight it for control.
“Little Warrior.”
Talon’s voice brushes past my ear from behind, and I go still. I close my eyes and try to lock down the pain that surfaces inside of me. A sob escapes me, despite my efforts to keep it locked inside my chest.
“Little Warrior, what are you doing here? I told you it’s not safe.”
Talon’s voice darts from one side of me to the other, and I frantically search for him behind me. The tears that are dripping down my cheeks are flung around me as I jerk my head from side to side in an effort to catch a glimpse of him. He’s a flash behind me, never stopping long enough for me to take in his features. To see him. I growl out my frustration and struggle against my restraints.
My desperation shatters me, and I lose it. I thrash and scream with my efforts. I ignore any need to escape. I just need to see him. Urgency races through my veins, and it keeps me from focusing on anything, aside from my need to find Talon’s face. Nothing I do brings him into focus. No amount of begging holds him still long enough for me to see that he’s alright. Slowly my energy drains, and eventually, my chin falls to my chest in defeat. I shake with the sobs that wrack my body, and I pant as I try to wade through the desolation and fill my lungs with air.
“Vinna, don’t cry,” a small, melodious voice tells me.
A voice I haven’t heard in almost eight years. Laiken? With that thought, goosebumps rise on every inch of my skin.
“Laiken?” I ask out loud, my voice shaky.
“Vinna, you can’t cry. Vinna? Vinna, can you hear me?”
Her fragile voice grows more panicked with each unanswered question.
“Laiken! Where are you?” I shout helplessly.
I can’t get out of my restraints. I can’t see anything except the gray concrete walls of this room. I can’t do anything. Why can’t I fucking do anything?
“Vinna, you can’t cry. You have to run. Do you hear me? Run!”
Laiken’s blood-curdling scream echoes in my ears as I fling myself off the bed. I smash into the corner of the room, my back against the V where the walls connect. My sudden movement scares whoever was just standing over me and they whirl to track me, keeping me in their sights. A ball of magenta magic grows between my palms before I even realize that I’ve conjured it. The pink light of my magic emits a soft glow which highlights Enoch’s face; his features set in a worried frown.
A noise draws my attention to the doorway, where the rest of his coven and Pebble stand looking tired and equally concerned.
“Are you okay?” Enoch asks, pulling my attention back to him.
I stare at him blankly, confused.
“You sounded like you were hurt. We came to check on you, but I couldn’t get you to wake up. You were screaming and crying.” He points to my face, and I swipe at the tear tracks there. “What happened?” he asks, as he takes a tentative step towards me.
I try to process what he just said. My heavy breathing and pounding heart make it difficult to focus on much, other than the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I scan the room. Not able to stop myself from looking for Talon and Laiken, even though I’m starting to connect that none of it was real.It was a dream, I realize, as the last of the drowsy confusion leaves me.
“I must have been having a nightmare,” I croak out; my voice is deeper and heavy with sleep.
I’m not sure what to do or think about that. I’ve never been prone to nightmares before, not even when I was younger and stuck with Beth and her torture sessions. Sleep was always a safe place. Always an escape.
