“She’s awake.”
3
IVY
Ifeel as if I’m floating, swaying through an air of calm and tranquility in search of peace. It tingles down my spine, engulfing every inch of my skin as it wraps me in a blanket, protecting me. From what, I don’t know, but as the silence extends, suspending me between darkness and light, I know the tendrils of peace will continue to envelop me.
The darkness twists into gloom, flickering across the back of my eyelids and bringing me even closer to the surface as a compass flashes in my mind.
It’s not the first time that symbol has haunted me. In the darkness, it’s anchored me, keeping me grounded. Even when I wanted to spiral into the abyss, it refused to leave me, guiding me north through twilight, edging me closer to reality.
My fingertips flex, dancing across soft sheets as I try to pry my eyes open. The desire to fall back asleep threatens to overwhelm my will to stay awake, and I’m certain it’s going to win. I fight harder, pushing past the exhaustion before I am finally able to open my eyes.
My eyelids shutter a handful of times before I can focus on anything other than a smattering of mismatched colors.
White walls greet me from the bed I’m sprawled in, and there is a window off to the right letting in a little light through the thick gray clouds and the pitter-patter of raindrops. The sterile room offers no clue as to where I am.
I rattle my brain, trying to recall my last thought, any memory, but nothing comes to mind. My eyebrows pull together, and I wince at the tension barreling through me.
My lips part, ready to call for help, when my eyes latch onto the frame slumped in the chair beside my bed. My breath lodges in my throat as I blink at him, trying to recall his name, but I don’t recognize him at all.
Messy blond hair flops across his forehead as he rests with his chin against his chest. His gray t-shirt is crumpled, as if it’s seen better days, but it’s his hands coiled tightly around the arms of his chair that hold my attention. His knuckles are white, his veins protruding, and there’s an air of suppressed distress oozing from him.
I have no idea what kind of dream I summoned him from, but I won’t complain.
Exhaling, I tilt my head to the side, absorbing every inch of him, but the little noise from my lips concludes my peaceful moment of assessing him as his eyes dart open. Wide, insanely blue, and full of disbelief. He lurches forward in his seat.
“Ivy?” he rasps, and I frown.
He knows my name?
I part my lips, but nothing comes out, so I clamp them shut again and offer a simple nod.
“What, is…oh my gosh, Ivy!”
A light girly voice tears my attention away from him just in time to catch a flash of red darting toward me. Stopping an inch from my face, I come eye to eye with a…
“What are you?” I whisper, my throat raspy and sore from those three simple words. The pain only intensifies when the little thing heaves with sadness instead of smiling widely at me.
“You don’t remember me?” she asks, spinning in the air, and I gulp, shaking my head, too afraid to say no out loud. She sighs, dramatically falling to the sheets beside me as the guy from the chair launches to his feet.
“It’s okay, Princess. Take your time,” he insists, splaying his fingers on top of mine as he consoles me.
Gaping down at our connection, I gulp. “Who?—”
“I’m sure you have questions, Ivy. Lots of them, but let me make everyone aware that you’re awake so we can answer them together. Okay?”
He stares at me, waiting for an answer as I blink up at him. A shiver runs down my spine as he wordlessly lifts my hand to his mouth, brushing his full lips across my knuckles as I nod.
He squeezes my hand, offering silent support as the little red thing darts toward the door. She disappears from sight, leaving me alone with him, and I can’t help but fill the silence.
“What’s your name?”
Pain ripples across his features as he brushes his free hand down his face.
“Teddy, Princess. My name is Teddy.”
A knot forms in my stomach, and it only intensifies as the sound of shouting and desperation filters through from the other side of the door. The noise gets louder, straining the atmosphere before the door even opens. The second it does, air whooshes from my lungs.
