My Place, My Fate (Book 1: Fa...

By Awelst

2.7K 155 27

The fates had been cruel to her. Vicious by the hand they dealt her. Sentenced to a life of pain, she lived... More

Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Author's Note

Chapter 8

118 10 1
By Awelst

'The finest souls are those who gulped pain and avoided making others taste it.' – Nizariat

Oblivion.

Not a state I would have ever imagined to find myself in; then again I had never imagined my current situation either. I should have just stayed in my quiet little sea-side town, or better yet told Sebastian to go shove his Were Council threats where the good light don't shine.

I had been too scared of losing Sophia, and too weak to fight against the darkness to protest against the injustice dealt to me by the cruel fates.

Even in this state of limbo I can't help but wonder how my life would be had I acquiesced to his demands and let him take Sophia away- if I had simply opted for my solitude than for pack life.

Nothing good ever came of it, case and point my current situation lying in a pool of my own blood desperately clinging to the little amount of air my bruised ribs would allow. The searing pain running through my entire being doesn't seem to make it any easier; making me rethink whether survival is notable.

I find myself searching for the bright white light that people often talk about hoping to be rid of it all. Yet life doesn't seem to be as accommodating as I had hoped, for even in the haze I am in darkness akin to the depths of tartarus has engulfed me slowly consuming the tattered remains of my sanity.

I am forced once again to re-think the worth of my life, if it is worth an ounce of this torture.

Yes!

The response so strong and unyielding that I would have spoken it out if it wasn't for the blood slowly forming in my throat.

For Sophia I would experience this pain tenfold if it meant she have the life that would have been robbed of her.

"Amelia!" I heard my name pierce through the fog in my mind.

The voice itself sounded so far making me wonder whether or not I had imagined it. Yet I could hear the voice again, deep and rough like the lowest note of a stringed instrument.

I wonder if he will find me before I am dead, I mused.

Calling out was not an option, and any form of movement sent a bolt of pain through my frail body reminding me of my pitiful state.

"Amelia!" A different voice called out this time, giving me the first ray of hope that I might be discovered. If anything I prayed there would be more than the two of them.

I could hear the dull sound of footsteps gradually nearing my location, the sound of the footfalls resonating through my mind making me wince at every thud.

"Oh my God, Amelia," the deep voice exclaimed, causing me to wince from his tone.

I must look awful if this strong man- whom I had never associated with soft emotion to anyone beside his daughter- was visibly reduced to soft words.

Those damn rogues better be all dead if I looked like I was ran over by a steam roller, and one just so happened to be clinging to its life.

"I am so sorry we weren't here sooner. You're going to be fine." He promised.

I did not need his apologies or his promises.

What I needed was his assistance, and when that was done, I never wanted to anywhere near his retched pack lands. Nothing good ever came of it.

An explosion of pain went through me, bringing me out of my thoughts. They're moving me. I moaned as the pain intensified, making me spit up blood.

I heard someone mutter a cuss, before their pace increased. My lungs were filling with fluid. I would soon start wheezing before I stopped breathing.

The strong sterile scent of the infirmary assaulted my olfactory senses, causing a bout of wheezing. The blood was endless; my breathe rugged.

I could feel the small vestiges of my consciousness slowly slipping away, before I completely succumbed to the darkness.

~

I was floating.

Not in the physical sense but mental. I had never felt such a high in my life- if this was what getting high felt like I might just become a regular at the local pub.

The fog obscuring my thoughts was a welcome feel creating a sense of peace and serenity rivalling any monastery. Nevertheless, the high was not a permanent fixture. There are moments when the calmness would be replaced by such immense pain that it would render me numb.

In those moments, the fog obscuring my thoughts would clear up releasing such dark memories that would leave me thrashing about on the infirmary bed, resulting in a dose of morphine enough to knock me out for good long while until the next episode.

If I kept like this I was sure I to become an addict- not that I was complaining. Addiction in those moments was a welcome vice just to get rid of the torture occurring in my mind. Yes, they can dose me in as much morphine as they want rather than chance insanity.

I can feel the haze wearing off though, with minimal accompanying pain. My senses are gradually becoming attuned to my surroundings; the beep of the heart monitor steadily announcing the fact that I am still alive.

It's eerily silent though with the occasional pitter-patter of feet and the noisy snore that seems to be too loud to be anywhere but close by. I slowly pry my eyes open taking my time to adjust to the dim lighting. There's a window to the left with open shades allowing the light of the crescent moon through.

The room is fairly large with five beds on each side of the walls and a door to the right. All the beds seem empty except the one next to me to my right. The occupant is on his back snoring with his mouth slightly open.

Adam.

He must be back to guard duty, I mused.

His features are obstructed in the dim light only sparing me a slight side view of his face- enough to allow me to take stock of him. a light stubble was forming on usually pristine jaw. His clothes were crumpled, and his brown hair looked dishevelled- almost as though he hadn't gotten much rest.

I scoffed at the thought, swiping it away before it took root.

As if he would lose sleep over the rogue. If anything, I was willing to bet the only reason he had reduced himself to the uncomfortable bed was due to 'alpha's orders'.

I tentatively reached for the glass of water on the table beside me. My throat felt like the Kalahari. Silently grasping the glass, I held it firmly feeling the slight tremble in my grasp. I was not looking forward to conversing with anyone at the moment, and the sound of broken glass would just as easily result in that very situation.

Once I had quenched my thirst, I lay back on the bed and took stock of my injuries. My back ached likely from the impact with the tree and ground. Both my shoulder and leg were bandaged, and any focused movements in those areas brought a sharp pain.

I huffed.

I wasn't sure how long I had been out of it. The only things clear were the round of nightmares that came along with the sedation.

I could only hope I had not given anything away. I had no intentions whatsoever of getting comfortable with anyone here. This entire ordeal had shown me what I had so previously failed to see.

Pack life was not for me, especially given the circumstances that brought me here.

I missed my seaside haven. The tranquillity and soft lull of the roiling waves, and the resounding calm free of any pack obligations.

I was my own being there.

The plan formed swiftly.

Any repercussions most severe if caught.

A groan from my right brought me out of my thoughts. Turning towards the movement, I came into contact with hazel eyes riddled with sleep. He blinked at me almost as though I- being there wide awake- was some sort of dream-like figment.

"You're awake." He sputtered, leaping off the bed for the red button above my bed.

He then stood at the foot of the bed staring at me his face riddled with shock as though he had not expected me to live. Did I really look that bad?

I know I was a bit worse for wear but I couldn't have looked any worse than the other wolves.

"Miss Thompson, I see you're awake." The lady acknowledged once stood beside Adam.

She was clad in a black skirt suit with a white lab coat over, and a stethoscope around her neck. Her strawberry blonde hair was held back in a tight ponytail, and her baby blue eyes skimmed through my chat.

"I'm Doctor Woods. You have been out for quite some time, almost a week, but your vitals are looking much better now. You sustained a broken tibia and fibula and substantial bruising to your back, which will heal out in a couple of days and the leg in a couple of weeks. Refrain from putting unnecessary pressure on your leg.

"The most severe was injury was the torn shoulder when the flesh was torn off, it caused the external jugular vein to tear along. Lucky for you the wolf only nicked the subclavian vein; otherwise you would not have made it.

"Again no unnecessary shoulder movements, and if things keep holding steady you should be able to leave in a day or two."

She did a quick examination- poking and probing the bandages before leaving the room as swiftly as she came.

I glanced at Adam thereafter. He really did look exhausted. There were bags forming underneath his eyes, and his skin looked slightly paler than usual.

"Is Sophia safe?" I asked, wincing slightly from the sound of my voice. The water had helped but it still sounded unused.

He gave a firm nod before averting his eyes.

There was something odd with his behaviour- and it wasn't the fact that he looked like a herd of bulls had stomped on him.

No, this was something else. It was there in his eyes if you looked really well- a noticeable shift that left me confused.

The commotion at the door pulled me away from Adam. Glancing at the entrance, I was greeted by an equally haggard looking Sebastian. Even Adam didn't look this horrid- causing me to assume that something was really wrong.

If it were any other circumstance, I would have thought there appearance was because of me, but seeing as how I was persona non grata, my mind immediately sought the only person they cared for above all else.

"Is Sophia alright? Did something happen?" I rasped.


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