Destined for Disaster ✔️

Chapter 12

If Ryleigh had to describe the sensation of being silvered, she'd say it felt like all her blood vessels were simultaneously combusting - an explosion from the inside tearing at her innards.

Silver was nothing new to her, not even before she got tortured at the Royal Prison. She'd been silvered enough times to know where her limits lied, and she had reached them.

The more silver coursed through her veins, the more it hurt. Her senses exploded, every nerve set aflame. The one upside – as far as there was one – was that she had already been weakened, which meant her body had little fight left in it and shut down, so she spent the worst of it in a state of feverish oblivion.

When she did wake up, many hours after the latest dose of silver had been administered to her, she had trouble placing her surroundings into context. The first of her senses that started registering information was touch. She felt something being moved across her skin, something cool and wet, a sensation she welcomed on her clammy body. Next, her hearing kicked in again. There were voices, but she wasn't yet awake enough to distinguish between them, let alone make out what they were saying. Birds sung in the background, announcing daytime.

"I think she's waking up."

She heard the voice as through water, but at least she could make out the words. She turned her head towards the sound, trying to figure out if the speaker was someone she recognised or not. She didn't, or at least she thought she didn't.

The cool cloth – because that's what she figured it was – was removed from her skin and a whine slipped past her lips.

"You might be right," another voice said, sounding as if it was right beside her. Then there was a hand on her side, pushing her up a little, and then fingers prodding the sensitive skin of her back. She winced and made a move to swat the hand away, but her wrists were pulled back by chains that itched her sore skin. "Easy, there. Don't you remember me?"

She did remember him, vaguely. Her movements stilled.

"That's better. Can you open your eyes for me?"

Slowly she blinked her eyes open, squinting them shut immediately after when the bright light blinded her.

"Carry, close the curtains."

"On it."

There was a rustling of material and Ryleigh could tell the room got darker. She opened her eyes again, and this time she managed to keep them open. Slowly, Ridge came into view.

"That's a good girl," he said, smiling. "Let me take a look." He bent forward a little, peering into her eyes. "Still a bit silver, but there's definite improvement."

A young girl popped up beside Ridge, staring at her with wide, green eyes. "Did I wake you?" she asked. "I was just washing you. No offense, but you're dirty."

Ryleigh pulled down her brows and let her eyes dart to Ridge.

"Right. This is Carry. She's a dear, but very blunt. Don't mind her."

"I'm Austin's sister," she said. "The youngest of the four. How do you feel?"

"How do you think she feels? Give her some space. And me, for that matter. Shoo."

With a roll of her eyes, Carry set a few steps back. "Better? I wasn't done washing her, by the way. She's only half clean now, which looks a little odd."

"You can finish some other time," Ridge said. "Now be quiet." He turned to a table set up beside Ryleigh's bed and grabbed a cup with a strong-smelling substance in it. "I'm going to need you to drink this. I can't give you any pain-killers, since medication and silver don't exactly get along, but these herbs might help with the pain. I'm going to help you sit up now, alright? Carry, when I get her up, put that pillow behind her back, yeah? Alright, on three. One, two..." He helped Ryleigh get into a seated position, which stole the breath from her lungs. Carry hastily and far too roughly stuffed a pillow behind her. "Good, well done."