Have I finally woken up from this hellish nightmare ?
The first thing I feel is the burning pain—sharp and raw, spreading through my back. Then the pain in my arms, in my legs, in places I didn’t even know could hurt.
Why do I always wake up with pains?
For a moment, I think I’m still there—on that dirty bloody ground with Cora grinning down at me, the smell of death in the air and the sound of the crowd’s cheers echoing in my ears.
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But then … soft voices, belonging to two females. Talking in hushed, careful tones, like they don’t want to wake me up.
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“She looks so pitiful” one says, her voice tight with emotion. “I can’t believe they whipped her like that… and after all this time—this is how she returns.”
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There’s a pause, followed by a sniffle. “It’s so unfair” the other whispers, voice slightly trembling. “She’s barely breathing… she didn’t even fight back”
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A warm cloth dabs against my face, wiping something—blood? Sweat? Maybe tears. The fabric is rough, but the touch is gentle. Warm. Familiar.
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Who…?
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I don’t open my eyes right away. I stay still, listening. The voices sound kind. Soft. Not like the angry ones from before—the Alpha’s cowardice, the Luna’s ice, the crowd’s cruel jeers. No, this is different. This feels… safe.
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I finally open my eyes.
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Light floods my vision, soft and bright, and it takes a few seconds to adjust. I’m lying on a wooden bed, my body aching with every breath. The room is quite large and painted white, clean and simple, with nothing much going on in terms of furnishing. But peaceful.
There’s a wooden table in the corner, a cracked pitcher of water on top, and two large arched window letting in the morning sun, and four similar beds, with mine making it five.
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Two figures stand over me, looking at with worried faces.
One is tall, with thick dark hair braided down her back. She looks like she’s in her mid-twenties, and there’s something strong in her stance, something grounded and warm. Her rough-spun brown linen dress clings to her like she’s been working hard. There’s dirt on her cheek, but she’s beautiful in a way that speaks of survival.
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The other is younger, definitely way younger—blond hair, soft features, maybe sixteen or seventeen. There’s definitely still some baby fat in her face. Her eyes are glassy, as if she’s been crying, and she is dressed similarly to the older girl.
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“You’re finally awake, Lysi!” the dark-haired one breathes, and her voice cracks. “You’re awake.”
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“Mai, quickly go get the others,” she tells the blonde girl. “Hurry!”
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The younger girl—Mai, I guess—nods fervently and bolts out of the room like a flash of light.
I turn slowly, wincing, trying to sit up, but the pain forces me back against the pillow. The woman presses a hand gently on my shoulder.
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“Easy, dear” she coos. “Don’t push yourself yet. You just woke up”
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“W-Where…?” My voice sounds broken. Like it’s been scraped raw. “Where am I?”
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“You’re safe now” she says. “Back in the quarters. In the Pack house. You’ve been out for almost two days. We thought—” Her voice falters. “We thought we’d lost you after we’d just got you”
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I stare at her. My mind is spinning.
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“Who are you?” I manage to ask.
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She smiles gently. “My name is Winina. I’m a member of the Moon-veil Pack. We’re… we’re your people.”
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I frown in confusion. Her people?
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None of this makes sense.
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“I don’t understand” I whisper. “Everything hurts. And… DrKon—” My heart lurches. “Is he okay?”
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Winina’s face softens even more, as she gently wipes my face with the piece of rag. “He’s fine, and strong, like you, Lysi. He’s at the training grounds already. You know how fast we heal.”
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That makes me freeze. Heal fast. Werewolves.
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Right.
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I’m not normal anymore. If I ever was to begin with. Before I can ask anything else, the door flings open. Mai returns, and behind her are three others. I recognize DrKon as one of them.
He is the first to rush forward. His face lights up when he sees me, and he doesn’t hesitate, grabbing me in a tight hug, one that somehow doesn’t hurt despite everything.
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“I thought I’d never see those eyes again,” he whispers against my hair.
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I almost cry at the warmth of his voice.
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Next to him, another girl—dark-haired, maybe a year or two younger than me—rushes in and tackles me in a hug, her grip stronger, I wince abit. She doesn’t say anything yet, just holds me like I’m something precious.
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I hear soft sobs “I’m so glad you’re back with us, Lysida!”
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Behind them stands a young man, who looks about DrKon’s age.
His hair is dark, cropped close, and his build is lean and tense. He doesn’t rush toward me like the others. Instead, he stands by the bed, staring down at me with eyes that might seem unreadable to others, but to me, they look hella cold.
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“I’m glad you’re awake” he says flatly. “I didn’t think you’d last.”
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His smile is small. Too small. Not real.
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I stare at him, and something in me recoils—not from fear, but from the coldness. This guy doesn’t like me.
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He turns without another word and walks out, slamming the door shut behind him.
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“Don’t mind Trekk” DrKon mutters beside me. “He’s… complicated.”
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“Complicated?” I ask.
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The unnamed girl who just hugged me scoffed, voice high and chipper. “Complicated my ass. He’s just a jerk”
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“Stalina” Winina hushes her.
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“He’s still part of us” Mai, the quiet girl adds softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “He just needs time to heal and come to terms with it”
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“What are you guys talking about?” I croak. “What happened?”
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Winina touches my hand. “There’s a lot you don’t remember, Lysida. But we’re going to help you through it all”
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“All I remember is that I was with my family, living a normal quiet life. But now I’m stuck here” I shake my head “But you think my memory is missing?”
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They all look at each other. A secret passing between them.
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“Hey. It’s okay” DrKon says after a moment. “We’ll help you remember, then it’ll all become clearer. Bit by bit. Just focus on healing for now”
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I lean back, overwhelmed. My chest feels tight, not just from the bruises, but from the weight of everything pressing in on me. These people—they seem to know me very well. They seem care. But I don’t know them.
At this point, I’m just waiting for mum to wake me up with a smack on the butt, no matter how I bad I hated it.
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