Page 90 of Awakened

Maybe it’s shock. Maybe it’s a delayed reaction to trauma. Maybe it’s a thousand and one other things or none of them at all, but for whatever reason, that’s what finally jolts me into action.

I know I should be feeling pain but… I don’t. The moment my arm is out of the fire and cradled protectively against my chest, I start to shake. I don’t want to look. Don’t want to see the burnt flesh or the blisters or the skin that could very well be sloughing off bone, like the skull on the floor of the dining room.

All I can manage is to squeeze my eyes shut and tell myself that if I refuse to acknowledge it, it’s not real. Any second now the white-hot agony is going to hit, and I whimper, crouching in front of the warmth of the fire, cradling my injured arm and refusing to acknowledge the world.

Fates… I can’t do this. I can’t⁠—

“Idril! Gods, move back!”

An arm wraps around my middle, yanking me away from the fireplace and dragging me halfway across the room. My back is pressed against a hard, muscular chest, but my eyes are still shut, and I think something inside of me glitches because…

Vaelenor?

“You stay right fucking there and don’t move,” he snarls from right above my head and, yes… I’m not imagining it.

Vaelenor is holding me. My Fated Mate is⁠—

My feet touch the ground. Strong hands land on my shoulders and spin me around. His fingers spasm, gripping me right where Cage had and making me wince.

“Fuck. Fuck, sorry.”

His touch disappears for all of two seconds before returning to my arms with a nearly imperceptible tremor. I can smell the smoke of singed cotton. Hear the way Vae’s fighting to get his breathing under control. Feel the slight vibration passing from his body to mine.

I want to look at him. Want to see his face. But I still can’t open my eyes. But there’s still no pain, and some part of me is convinced I won’t feel it so long as I don’t open my eyes.

The flame in my chest flares with indignation, making me frown.

“Are you alright? Fates, please tell me you’re alright. I couldn’t get to you in time. I saw you catch yourself, but then he was about to push you again, and I couldn’t let him do that. I couldn’t—I should have gone straight for you, but I tackled him and then—gods, Idril, let me see your arm. Please, I need to see how bad it is.”

There’s something oddly soothing about his tone, but not enough to convince me to expose my injury to him. I shake my head in fierce denial and shift away protectively for good measure.

“Omega, I need to see it. Your arm was— it was—” He swallows thickly, but he doesn’t need to say it. I know where it was.

Right in the middle of the roaring flames.

Something scuffs against the ground to my side. Just like that, Vae’s hands are gone. I feel him move right before I hear someone kicking a body.

Cage releases a painful groan, and Vaelenor scoffs. “Don’t be a fucking baby now. Not when you were a big badass just two minutes ago, going after a helpless Omega who couldn’t fight back.”

“Fuck you,” Cage spits.

“Only one asshole in this room is fucked, and it’s not me.”

I feel Vae’s body shift before once more addressing me. His voice is gentle. Soft. So different from anything I’ve heard directed my way before.

It’s the way he should have always spoken to me. The overwhelming sense of loss has tears springing to my eyes.

“I really need to take a look at your arm,” he murmurs gently. “I won’t touch you. I promise. Not unless you tell me it’s okay. But I need to see how bad it is.”

Silence.

“Can you at least tell me on a scale of one to ten, how bad it is?”

His words make sense, but they’re not registering. I frown, running over them again, trying to force them into my current reality. But I can’t. I can’t because…

I still don’t feel any pain.

That can’t be right. I can feel everything else—the scratches on my palms and knuckles, the pain in my bones and muscles that hasn’t gone away in days. But my arm…