Page 110 of Awakened

The same, but different.

I know it’s only been a few seconds, but time feels strange, like the seconds are crawling by, each moment passing ten times slower than it is in my head.

I’m trapped—locked in my mind—a prison of memories I’m being forced to relive.

The first time I Alpha Commanded Idril in the library.

Hours later, viciously tearing apart her memories with her mother. Using the few happy moments she had left to punish her for existing.

The way her hands shook as she ran them up and down her clothing. The way she smoothed, bunched, and twisted the fabric. Trying to Nest. Trying to Nest with the rough, itchy clothing I provided her, trying to Nest because she was scared. Because she was desperate for comfort. Because I hurt her.

The forced rations. The cold attic with no blankets. The glass shattering against the wall behind her head. The cell.

The Alpha Commands.

I’m shoved out of my head and back into reality. Vae’s still in front of me, waiting for me to tell him what to do—how to fix this—but I ignore him, my gaze snapping across the room to Silas.

“The Alpha Commands,” I murmur. Silas’s eyes meet mine and his face drains of color, his eyes widening as the horror of what we’ve done solidifies.

Vae’s body jerks. When I refocus on him, he’s looking at me like he just realized I’ve cost him everything.

Fuck… maybe I have.

No.

NO.

Denial surges through me, and I hold onto it with everything I am. This is not happening. It’s not. I—I can fix this.

I have to fix this.

There’s no other fucking option.

I’ll… I’ll explain. I’ll explain everything. And Caelan—stoic, calm, understanding Caelan—will listen. He’ll listen to my reasoning, and once I’ve explained, he’ll get it. He’ll understand. He has to.

He’ll still be pissed, of course. He’ll be super fucking pissed, probably for a while, but he’ll forgive me eventually. He’s angry, but anger is good. Anger means he cares.

As long as no more daggers come flying at my head, we’ll be alright.

I take a deep breath. Another. When Vae says my name, I hold up a hand, aware the entire fucking room is staring at the two of us. Watching me freak out. Watching Daxen fucking Montclair break apart on the fucking floor in the most epic meltdown in history.

Alright, Montclair. Stop spiraling. Get off the floor and fix this.

Right.

I push myself up—when did I get back down on the floor to begin with?—swipe my hand across my brow and take in the room, fighting not to grimace visibly.

Everyone’s staring.

All except for two people, who aren’t paying attention to anything at all—especially me or Vae.

Caelan and Idril sit on the rarely used couch across the room. They’re facing each other, heads bent so close they’re nearly touching. Caelan’s hands cradle Idril’s, thumbs sweeping across the pale skin of her knuckles.

Every few seconds, he shifts—reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, or cup her cheek in his palm. They’re in their own world, oblivious to everything around them.

Which is fine, but… I need to explain. Not only to Caelan, but Idril as well.

Yes… especially to Idril. Of course. Gods… why can’t I think clearly?