EMBER
“You’re going to die.”
I open my eyes and push up from the ground. The grass is soft beneath me as I kneel, legs too weak to stand. Taranus stands across from me, his glare murderous. “Where am I?” I demand, though all he does is grin at me.
“You’re going to die,” he repeats. “And so is he.”
* * *
I shoot up,breathing ragged. The moment I’m sitting though, I am helpless to remain upright. Tumbling back, my head hits the pillow with a soft thud.
“Easy, girl.” Bea is there, pressing a cool rag to my forehead.
“Raffe,” I choke out.
“He had to leave for a spell. He’ll return, though, I can assure you that. Fin had to practically drag him from your side.”
Knowing he’s okay, that Taranus’s words weren’t prophecy but rather lucid hallucinations, makes it easier to breathe. And it also means that, just as the doctor warned, I’m beginning to lose myself. How long until I can no longer tell what’s real from a nightmare?
How long until my organs begin to shut down?
“Are you okay? Does anything hurt?”
I shake my head. “I’m humiliated, confused, and tired, but there’s no physical pain right now.”
“Good. I made you a salve for your belly.” She raises the blanket over my waist so I can see a white cream slathered on my skin. “It will aid with the nausea.”
Tears sting the corners of my eyes. “Am I ever going to feel okay again?”
“Right now, you’re dealing with your disease combined with the bond forced upon you. Taranus’s magic is pulling harder now, likely because he is not going to survive much longer.”
“And what happens to me then?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
Bea purses her lips. “It’s not going to come to that.”
Closing my eyes, I do my best to ignore the unease churning in my gut. “It might. And if it doesn’t get me, this disease will. I can feel it. It’s like there’s no relief now. As if it’s still attacking my body like it does in my world.”
“We are trying, Ember. If there’s a way—”
Cracking open an eye, I take in her somber expression. “Thank you.” Reaching out, I cover her hand with mine. “I am feeling a lot better.” I take a deep breath then open my eyes again. “In fact, I don’t suppose you could help me outside? I would love some fresh air.”
Bea looks seconds away from arguing but eventually nods. “Sure. But only for a few moments. We cannot overdo it.”
“Perfect. Thank you.” With her help, I sit and swing my legs over the edge of the bed. Then, she wraps an arm around my waist as I stand. The ground feels alien against my bare feet, and my legs wobble as I try to take a step. Thankfully, Bea keeps a sturdy hold on me, and I don’t fall flat on my ass.
With each step, I grow more confident, and soon I’m squinting beneath the bright light of the sun.
“Are you all right?”
“Better than,” I tell her with a smile as she helps me down the aisle. It’s lined with massive green tents, reminding me of the old school war movies I used to watch. Honestly, it’s a tad eerie, as if I’m not just in another world—but another timeline as well.
Bea guides me toward a bonfire where three women sit as they stitch fabric together.
As we approach, they look up and smile.
“You must be Ember,” a woman with bright eyes greets as she stands. She offers me her seat, and before I can protest, Bea is guiding me down into it.
“Yes. Thank you.”