Chapter 2 Awakening and Answers
AWAKENING AND ANSWERS
Iawaken with a jolt.
My heart is a drumbeat, stirring my adrenaline, calling my senses to attention. Light floods my eyes as the memory of pain has me flinching, braced for another wave of agony.
Nothing comes.
“It’s okay,” a woman’s voice says, soft and melodic. “You’re safe. You’re at the healing center.”
Safe. The word means nothing anymore.
I am a struck nest, every nerve in my body a hornet, racing to locate the threats. I scan the pale walls, minimal furniture, and stainless-steel details surrounding me. It’s all so clean. Too clean. I’m not cuffed. But the most terrifying detail is that I’m not in pain.
Not even a little.
It doesn’t make sense. I just had every bone in my body crushed.
I look over my body, shocked to see my arms and legs whole and without casts. I marvel, rolling my shoulders and flexing my fingers and toes as I turn my hands over. I’m not just unharmed—my skin is a clean canvas. Every scar, every mark, even the hangnail I’d had this morning are gone. Perfect.
I must be dreaming—no, hallucinating. This happened before when they gave me the drug that made me itch, as if thousands of tiny ants were crawling over my bare skin. I’d wanted to scratch my skin off before a burning sensation debilitated me.
Panic sharpens my senses as I search for an IV. A thin wire disappears up my sleeve—a snake in the grass—and I’m determined not to get bitten.
I grasp it tightly and yank. A sticker pulls free from my chest, and then a fast beep fills the room.
A woman in purple moves to silence it. “Brielle, my name’s Willow Peseshet,” she says, maintaining her distance.
I don’t respond. Time and questions have become luxuries I no longer expect.
“I won’t. I can’t.” I tattoo the words across my skin, paint them across the white floors and walls, and stitch them into the thin blanket before they can make demands.
Willow studies me. “What can’t you do?”
I remain silent, but my heart is too loud in my ears.
“Careful. She burned Chris.” The vaguely familiar voice snaps my attention to the corner of the room. It should be painfully bright. I should be flinching, but my vision is perfect, allowing me to see the three men who brought me here.
“From what I saw, Chris deserved it,” Willow says, voice calm but sharp.
My pulse spikes as I search for the fourth man, the one who broke every bone in my body with a single touch.
“No one’s going to hurt you,” she says, but her assurance is voided by how I was brought here and the way the men are studying me. It makes me feel self-conscious like a caged animal, and I hate that they seem to recognize this.
Daire shifts, and my gaze snaps to him. He stills immediately, hands loose at his sides as though recognizing I can’t don’t trust him.
His amber eyes appear darker now. His jaw moves as though he’s about to say something, but then he swallows.
I hate that I can’t stop looking at him.
Hate that my body stays braced but my mind stills, as though listening for something in his silence.
“Brielle, you’re in Bryxton,” Willow says. “You’re home.”
My gaze cuts to hers without permission or thought.
She smiles.
My stomach sinks. She would be so easy to trust. Too easy.
“What’s wrong with her?” The bearded man’s tone conveys his growing impatience.
I glance at him, wishing I knew why he was here and, more importantly, what he might be capable of.
“Brielle,” Karraelas says, taking a step forward. He raises a hand, and the memory of him raising the chair and making the file close replays in my thoughts.
I huddle into myself.
“You three aren’t helping,” Willow says.
“Who are you, and what is this place?” I ask, fisting my hands in the blankets, amazed that there’s not even a trace of pain in my bones as I search for evidence of where they’ve brought me.
Willow waves a hand. My heart slows, and my lungs open.
I clutch my chest. “What did you just do? What did you give me?” The questions fly out of me as I hunt for another wire or tube connecting to me.
There isn’t one.
“Give her a higher dose,” the bearded man says. “Maybe it’s her element? Also, are we going to talk about this?”
Willow gives him a scathing look. “I did,” she says. “She’s very strong. And no.”
I break my rules again and slide my gaze to her. I glare at her with a silent threat. “Do that again, and you’ll regret it.”
She stares at me in wonder. “What can you do?”
“Willow,” Karraelas warns. “Now might not be the time to ask questions.”
“How are you guys doing this? What did you do to my body?” I swing my accusing stare between them.
Karraelas swallows, looking increasingly uneasy.
“What do you want from me?” I ask, keeping my eyes pinned on Willow’s hands.
“Nothing.” She shakes her head.
I sputter. She’s too good of a liar.
I blame whatever sedative or drug they gave me to get me here for the sudden ache between my temples.
“You guys always come on too strong.” Another woman steps into the room. She has long mahogany hair, bright blue eyes, a delicate nose, and thin lips.
“You shouldn’t be in here, Scarlet,” Willow says.
“How else am I going to become a healer? Besides, I’m a Water Elemental, which makes me perfect for the job.”
My heart races, and my hands feel too warm.
“That’s why I’m still here,” the bearded guy remarks.
Scarlet ignores him, turning to Karraelas. “Where did you find her?”
“Earth. A small town in the middle of nowhere, Alabama, to be more specific,” he tells her.
My focus snaps to him, replaying his words that make it sound like we’re not on Earth anymore.
Daire turns those unworldly eyes on me, and my skin prickles and warms. Once again, I’m suspicious of whatever power he possesses, subconsciously aware that I should fear the strength of that mystery. He doesn’t move, but something about him makes the air hum with tension.
“She’s afraid,” Daire says.
“Of course she is.” Pain—or maybe understanding—radiates from Scarlet’s eyes. “She was brought here without having a clue where you were taking her or why, and then Chris used his power on her. I’d be losing my shit, too.”
“You should never have been harmed,” Willow tells me.
“There’s no apology or excuse we can afford for what Chris did, but I can assure you that no one will harm you again.
” She pulls a stool out from beneath a counter and moves it so she’s sitting in front of me.
“I healed you when you arrived.” She folds her hands and keeps them in her lap, where I can see them. “We’re like you.”
I shake my head. “I don’t know what that means.”
“We each control an element. Air, Soul, Water, Ground, and Fire.” Willow’s voice is calm and serene, the opposite of what I’m feeling.
“I’m a Soul Elemental,” she continues, as though understanding my trust and sanity are currently balanced on an edge too narrow and steep to respond.
“I’m going to take a scalpel out of that drawer and cut myself so I can show you. ”
My breath catches as she removes the sharp instrument. For something so small, I know firsthand exactly how much pain it can inflict. She winces as she scores a long line across her palm, and then her lavender eyes meet mine.
“Watch.” She presses her hand near the wound, and to my shock and amazement, the blood stops gathering, and then the skin knits, fast-forwarding weeks of healing in seconds.
Hope feels too big and too small as it lodges itself in my throat.