Freeing Anvi

Chapter Twenty-Six

I'm lost.

Spinning, drowning, dying; it's an amalgamation of emotions that I'm not a fan of. My eyes are swollen, unable to open and they press uncomfortably against my cheeks. I'm blinded, struggling to comprehend where I am and what I'm doing on my knees, chained up to a wall with binds that send thousands of volts of electricity through my body. My bones, too shattered for repair, sink despondently and my strength fails me. Every fiber of my being has given up. I've given up.

Little by little, my vision returns. My eyes still feel swollen, but I'm able to crack them open just a bit to be able to observe my surroundings. Unfortunately, it's all dark. There's not even a shred of light around me to comfort the rapid thumping of my heart. It suffocates me, seemingly enlarging my heart and taking up the space that my lungs had power over. Dust swarms up my nose and into my mouth; I'm breathing the desert sand instead of the cool water that I desperately crave. There's a vexatious buzzing in the back of my head. Buzz, buzz, buzz, it goes. It's content with being my only source of sound, apart from the grunts and groans that push their way through my split, parted lips.

My mouth tastes acidic and like I've swallowed too many liquid iron supplements. There's something sticky and sloshy at my feet - my blood that I've been swimming in. I groan again. My clothes are torn and patchy, grafting uncomfortably against my skin. Between my legs, pain sears through me, and I'm not sure if it's from the car session I had with Jackson or if Alpha Banastre did something to me.

"Gods, I hope he didn't," I mutter, fear twisting and gnawing my stomach like a kebab. I try to close my legs, but it's then that I realize they're purposefully chained apart. I'm forced to stay in a submissive position; on my knees, my legs unhelpful and spread behind me. I look like one of those slaves in an ancient history movie, except this isn't history. This is Alpha Banastre's fantasy.

Foam bubbles from my lips abruptly, and my train of thought is cut off by a waterfall of vomit that spills out of me. Luckily, it just grazes my clothes and splatters in front of me. The smell is foul and only brings more vomit out of me, but I swallow it and shake my head, trying to quell the spinning of my head.

In the darkness and silence, with nothing to think about apart from my impending escape, I think back to what Delia was beginning to tell me, when she was asking if Jackson and I had used protection when having sex. Honestly, it had slipped my mind before; I was too caught up in the whirlwind of passion and pleasure that was my mate's touch and love. But now, I have the time to properly speed through those memories, searching for any evidence of protection being used. A few times, I remember, we did. But more recent moments neglect to show the use of a condom, and I realize that there's a slight possibility - a marginal one - that I can be pregnant.

It's a blow much stronger than anything that Alpha Banastre has inflicted me with. It brings my head down; I'm not sure if it's in shame or shock, though. Maybe a mix of both. My heart picks up its rapid tempo No! No! No! I can't be pregnant! Not now, not at eighteen, when I have so much left that I want to do with my life. Granted, a child would only alter the beginning of my plans, but it's too early; too soon! I'm not too worried about Jackson not accepting our child, though. We've spoken about children before, and I know he's on board with having them. Hell, his parents had him young; I don't think it would be a surprise if I announced that I was pregnant.

Don't get ahead of yourself, Anvi, I say to try and calm down. You can be pregnant, but you also could not be. It's possible that I'm just sick...yeah, that could be it. I'm just coming down with the flu...

It's a rational thought, but not more rational than the possible pregnancy. Thinking about it makes my heart drop. I've always loved children, and I do want some of my own one day. But now...it's too soon. I'm not even married yet! How would I care for a child and go to school? Not to mention that werewolves often have more than one child per pregnancy.