Chapter 4

Lena's POV

For a long time, I had been thinking I was weak-willed, with no drive to survive or live on to the next sunrise, but my two instances with death convinced me otherwise.

I thought after the masked rogue left me for death, I would slowly wheeze myself to the light, maybe watch myself float up, or feel my body rot.

I managed to stand on my feet, my bones crackling and my legs shaking. My guts felt like they were being crushed by my body mass, and my legs, specifically my thighs, felt like they had been drilled through with a razor-sharp rock.

My face bled, but I managed to crawl out of the warehouse, the blood on my nose trickling down and forming a trail of dots behind me.

I staggered to the door, feeling a chronic pain pounding in my chest. The man must have squeezed my breasts too tightly and my skin was burning from the pain I felt all over.

As I managed to press my weight on the door, it opened, and I figured out I was right all along; I was in the middle of a cornfield, and the only light I could spot was a distance away.

“We're not going to make it,” my wolf said to me.

I had tried shifting but it was almost impossible. Too painful, to be specific.

“We…we'll try” I replied, grabbing my chest as a form of support. My head became light and my eyes turned heavy, blurring my vision along the way.

“We need help.” My wolf continued. “At this point, we are going to die,” my wolf uttered.

“No shit!” I muttered. “Where… Just where?” I thought

She must have forgotten we were in the middle of nowhere and I was doing the best I could to seek help.

I tried shifting but the pain of my body contorting stopped me yet again before I could complete the process. The after effects were worse, I grunted with the last bit of strength in me and fell to the ground, my vision turning into a black void of echoes.

“Lena, Lena, wake up,” my wolf growled, but I was far too gone, far too weak to move a muscle, far too gone to even breathe.

Everything went silent, dark, and…

Cold.

*****

“Is she responding to any stimuli,”

“Not quite yet, Alpha,”

“Why is it taking so long?”

“It would take some time for her to heal properly. It's a miracle she survived such a brutal experience,”

“Alright, how long has she been out?”

“Two days and a few hours. Luckily, her coma isn't going to last for months.”

“Look!” “She seems to be awake, her fingers are twitching,”

“Hold on, pass me the flashlights,”

“Quick!”

Everything went silent again but this time… I could feel my environment. I could feel the presence around me. Everything had been a void of nothingness and a round of floating through an unconscious void. No sound, no emotions, I didn't even know I existed, but suddenly, after the voices echoed in my head, I could feel again.

An arm touched mine, but I couldn't respond; however, I could finally feel it.

In what seemed like hours, my eyes slowly shot open, the lights around the bed, burning the darkness away from my head. I squinted my eyes and moved my neck to avoid staring directly at the lights. My arms twitched and my legs tweaked.

I was awake… or maybe not.

Where was I? I quickly questioned myself, even though my memories were still hazy and blank.

I was on a king-size bed, the room was large enough to accommodate six of my previous room. The air, though slightly cold, smelled fresh and nice. The floors were as though painted by an artist to express the tranquility of the environment.

This wasn't heaven… or was it?

In a second, panic struck in. “Where the hell am I?” I muttered, my voice barely audible. I tried to move but the drip stand beside me made me flinch.

A hospital?

No, it was far too cozy and quiet to be a hospital, not to mention the luxurious furniture in the room.

This was someone's home, and here I lay, letting the void fill me up.

The door clicked open and a woman with a tray walked in. We stared straight in each other's eyes, both of us unwilling to blink. In her tray were some medications, but she looked nothing like a nurse.

“You are awake,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You're awake,” she repeated, this time louder and certain. She quickly rushed out and before I knew it, an elderly man came in.

He was seemingly a doctor and behind him was a tall, young man. His skin was light as snow, his eyes shining like the stars in the night sky, and his look, an affirmation of manly beauty.

Our eyes locked and I instantly flinched from a sharp sensation.

What was it? I was too empty and hurt to figure it out or even give it a name.

It did make me feel safe, relaxed, and at the same time troubled.

It didn't take much for me to figure out he was the one helping me, the one who housed me while the doctor treated me.

That was nice of him, humane and thoughtful… But why?

Why did a stranger help me? How did he find me in the first place?