| BOOK TWO IN THE SALVATION SERIES |
" I figure, when you've been hurt so much, danger doesn't faze you, pain doesn't hurt you. "
Avalon is a nightblood.
She finds herself trapped. If there was one thing she hated, it was being trapped. She could...
Unedited because y'all have waited too long for this. Xx
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CHAPTER FORTY-ONE " her demons catch up with her but they don't have to"
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THIRD PERSON P.O.V
"How'd you know what my name was before I told you?"
Bellamy knew Maya already knew. It was to distract him from the fact she was digging a scalpel into his skin, make him focus on something else. "Clarke and Avalon. She said you got her out, so I have you to thank for that. Thank you."
Her eyes meet his, the tracker now out. Maya holds it out to him, fighting the shudder at the thought of what Avalon went through. "Here. Put this in your cage," She mutters, knowing she owed him the truth. It wasn't something good, at least not for Bellamy and his people. Especially Avalon. It benefited her own, but it made her sick thinking about what she went through.
Bellamy quickly sets it in the cage, eager to find his friends, get them out of here and to a radio as soon as possible. The weight was heavy on his shoulders, the fate of this war resting on them. He knew that.
"Bellamy," Maya admits, playing with her sleeve nervously. She knows what Avalon is to Bellamy, and doesn't know how he'll take it. There's been enough death for one day. "There's something else you should know."
Bellamy purses his lips, anxious. "Aside from the fact that my friends are disappearing?" He sighs, not sure how much worse it could get. There has to be something simpler.
Maya can barely meet his gaze. It was right there in her throat, but it was so wrong, to use someone else's pain to be free. She wasn't blind to the blood, or the fact that her home drove Avalon to think dying was better.
"Her bone marrow. They're trying to grow more. And I think it's working."
XXX
"Avalon, shhh. Avalon. It's okay. Your okay."
My eyes shoot open to a worried brunette, her hand squeezing my arm gently. Chest heaving, I reach up to wipe the thin coat of sweat covering my forehead, begging the memories to leave me alone. Every time I close my eyes, every time I fall asleep they come back to haunt me, the things I thought I had to do.
