Rogue Queen

Chapter 18

The suffocating pain consuming the entire expanse of my left side chest is the first indication that I'm awake. From my hip to collarbone it feels like someone's repeatedly smashed a boulder onto my chest, but I guess the force of a wolf's jaw can do that extent of damage. The attack was quick and it didn't take long for me to collapse because of my injuries, but the memory of  blood pouring out of my chest wounds will forever be engraved in my brain.

Unfortunately this isn't the first time I have awoken, yet it's the first time I didn't immediately panic sending my heart rate skyrocketing to the point where I pass back out. However none of those brief conscious episodes included someone in the room humming an oddly upbeat tune. I can quickly rule it out as Jasper because the voice is feminine with an airy wisp accentuated. Now as much as I love my best friend she can't sing for shit, so it's not her either. Probably just one of our nurses. Unless of course I'm not at home.

I wasn't attacked near any of my family's packs, which now really thinking about it seems suspiciously convenient. Oh Goddess, what if that was part of the assholes plan? Than again that doesn't explain whoever tore them off of me. I'm overthinking this whole situation, and worrying over ridiculous assumptions isn't going to get me anywhere. Surely I'm home safe with Jasper, and the rest of my family is reassured knowing I will be okay.

Regardless of it all I was still attacked by a rogue without any provocation or explanation. On one hand I was traveling through neutral territory, but it's still rare for a rogue to viciously ambush another person walking alone. Could it have been deliberate? With so many unanswered questions surrounding my previous attack as well as the attack at my uncles it's nearly impossible to be sure, but there's no ignoring the obvious pattern of it all.

Fuck! I can't even focus on the seriousness of it all because my mind keeps going back to mine and Jasper's disastrous goodbye. Laying here injured like I have never been before and seeing my life almost vanish makes our argument and reactions seem so juvenile and dramatic. We were both exhausted and stressed, yet none of that should excuse turning our backs on each other while all the work we put in our relationship starts to crack and crumble in front of our eyes. During arguments in the past I would always force myself to resolve it quickly and painlessly so we'd both be there for the pack, but it's abundantly clear that forcing ourselves to be okay for them is doing more damage to each other than providing any sense of strength to our pack members. What's important now is rebuilding our relationship with a impenetrable trust and understanding of each other, and doing it because we want to not because of the pressure brought on by outside troubles.

My internal conversation plotting is interrupted by the retreating footsteps silencing the only sound cueing me into the fact I'm actually conscious.  The door to the room clicks shut, and now that I'm all alone I realize something is missing. Our hospital is fully equipped with machines to monitor heart rate, blood pressure, etc, so why am I hearing absolutely nothing?

Like a ice water being poured over my head realization hits me with such force that my eyes snap wide open. I'm not in a pack at all, so who is keeping me away from the medical attention I desperately need. Focusing on the dark stone like ceiling above me, I breathe in and out steadily to even out my ragged panting. Staying calm is necessary because passing out appears to be my body's defense mechanism, and the situation just turned too fucking grave to waste any time.

My eyes don't need to adjust to the unusually dark room only illuminated by a small lamp situated on a dresser across the room. Scanning the rest of the room, I notice the walls are all the same rock material as the ceiling, which doesn't help the unease swirling in the pit of my stomach. A cracked vase of purple wildflowers rests atop an overflowing yet painfully short bookshelf on the wall to my right where one would expect a window, but just more bumpy gray rock wall. Could I be in a basement?