Wolf Heart

Chapter 40

JAMES

Time never mattered.

Frozen moments melted into bubbled magma.

He couldn't, wouldn't take pictures of it — not of the dancing flames or the sputtered embers. Never again. His hands trembled and he lost his grip on what he loved. He tossed and turned while things beeped and people spoke out in the halls. White against a negative space. He threw his arm over his brow, then wriggled his limbs before focusing back on the room.

It was a bland, beige colour. Across from his bed, a wall with his information on a patient holoboard. He twisted over to the semi-circle window, where a city bloomed into the expanse. Lights danced across the sky from a large stadium, while ads spun across the skyscrapers. Neon blues and purples filled the night streets. Spires taller than anything he imagined, framed by the most boring colour in existence. He studied the healing pod, but the sheen of gold disappeared.

Gold.

James choked and lurched, and the pod beeped a single alert. It fell silent when he clutched his chest and dug his fingers into the hospital fabrics. Hard webs laced through his lungs and gathered in his throat. Knees against his chest when he sat against the pillow, he rubbed his shoulders.

Where... am I?

On his right, the metal door which kept him from the view of any curious observers and led into a world unknown — a world he no longer longed for. James rubbed his neck with a groan, and missed the silver chain. His twin chain. He snapped around the two bedside tables, then relaxed at the sight of it hanging off the edge, limp and clean of ash and grime.

It slid off the edge and clattered to the floor.

He attempted to swallow, but coughed from scratched pain which followed it. He sat there in silence and listened to the distant medical alerts in the corridor and doctors called into rooms.

I must... be in the hospital. Mrs. Falae mentioned it... He rested against his hand, arm straight against his shoulder while he studied the outside and the spires which pierced through the angles. Small in a galactic world, he folded his lips and shook his head.

He left the chain on the ground.

Autumn never gave him his breath back.

Anything would've been better than the unfamiliar world — better than being alone. James brought his hands against his temples and the dam overflowed while he curled into himself. No... no... they can't be. I sent her to Rayan, they would've been safe. Anything but that. Anything but her going back. Why would she go? How did they get separated? Is... he...?

He jumped when the healing pod beeped once more and he fought for his breath. Worlds shuddered and he slumped back into the pod with a pained groan. Golden sheens wrapped around the curve of the pod and blasted warmth into his skin. Flames licked and bubbled his blood, and he bit down on a scream. He sent his fist into the small railing of the pod.

The door slid open with a hiss.

Everything kicked into overdrive but the flames drowned him. He hesitated at a familiar shape.

General Illiya Falae, and beside her, another doctor in a white coat who held a datapad in his hands. His head burned while the embers scalded his lungs. James dove into the pillow. "Turn it off. I don't want to feel warm."

Give me ice.

The doctor moved forward and tapped settings at the foot of his bed. It washed into a swift breeze, and James found the strength to sit up to lean against the propped pillows and stared at the two older adults. "Where am I?"