ReAwakened

  “I told you that I wasn’t good with words,” he said, setting the guitar next to him. “But one day, I hope that this song will be filled with them.”

  In this particular moment, I also struggled to find the right words to describe how much the song had meant to me; how cared for it had made me feel. So instead, I leaned in and pressed my lips against his. “Thank you,” I whispered.

  “You should probably also thank Hunter,” he murmured, chuckling. “But maybe not with a kiss.”

  “That’s what Hunter was doing all this time, wasn’t it? All those missed practices, the sneaking around…”Another mystery solved. That night at the cemetery Hunter had told me that a friend was helping him deal with his pain. What he had failed to mention was that he’d also been helping that friend.

  Sebastian nodded. “I could always play, but not well. Hunter, on the other hand, is good. Really good. I noticed he was going through a rough time lately, so I reached out to him and asked him to help me brush up on my guitar skills. Soon, however, I had a different reason for wanting to play. I asked Hunter to keep our lessons a secret until I was confident enough to share the song with you. That night of the party, before we went to the McDougal barn, I decided that I couldn’t hold back any longer and needed to show you how I felt, so Hunter left his guitar in your room—under your bed of all places. Of course, the opportunity never presented itself…until tonight.” He placed the guitar against the wall, and leaned back on the bed. “I’m just glad you didn’t end up running away.”

  I almost did, I thought, embarrassed for having so erroneously misinterpreted his actions.

  “I just couldn’t stand the silence between us anymore,” he said. A flash of pained memory crossed his face. “You were pushing me away when all I wanted to do was to pull you into me. So along with all of my feelings, I poured some of my frustrations into the song. Mostly frustrations over that whole blood connection deal. I hated that you kept blaming every one of my kisses on some stupid curse.”

  “Oh…about that…” I wasn’t looking forward to revealing that the whole Born-Made blood spell thing had been a practical joke at our expense.

  Sebastian looked at me expectantly. “Yes?”

  “I take it back,” I confessed.

  “All of it?” He’d found his way to my side of the bed and was now looming over me, one hand on each side of my body, his lips less than an inch away from mine. “Even the kisses?”

  “No, not the kisses,” I whispered, my skin humming with excitement in anticipation of his touch. “You get to keep the kisses.”

  “That’s good because I wasn’t going to let you take them back anyway,” he said, brushing away a wisp of hair that had fallen across my face. He tucked it behind my ear, then slowly—ever so slowly—trailed his finger down my neck, toward my collarbone, then back up, sliding it across my jaw and my chin to my lips. His mouth followed the same path, his tongue firing off wave after wave of ecstasy as he teased me, kissing me everywhere but on the lips.

  Finally, no longer able to stand the mounting tension, I thrust my fingers through the curls along the nape of his neck, and pulled him into me. A low growl resonated from his chest as our lips met. Ensuring that the Aurora-proof barrier inside my mind was still holding strong, I surrendered fully into the kiss. It began as a slow, soft caress, probing and patient, then deepened, mounting in strength, speed, and power as our need for each other intensified.

  Suddenly, his hands were everywhere, setting fire to my body, sliding under the lower hem of my shirt as he tugged away at the fabric. His eyes found mine as if to request permission to proceed. In response, I kissed him, pulling his shirt over his head. Seconds later, my own lay crumpled on the bed next to it as we tumbled down on top of the comforter. He covered my body with his, holding himself up over me, bearing all of his weight on one hand. His other hand cupped my chin, his thumb gently gliding across my cheek.

  “I better get to keep all of these kisses too,” he warned huskily.

  My fingers slid across his chest, traveling down the center of his torso, tracing a feathery path to his stomach. His muscles tightened in response to my touch as a gruff moan escaped his throat. Bringing my lips to the light scars on his chest, I kissed away the traces of his pain, then wrapped my arms around his neck, yanking him to me in a desperate attempt to get rid of the cold tuft of air gliding across my stomach, separating us. He collapsed against me, compressing our bodies together, the ridges of his abdominal muscles pressing against mine as his mouth hungrily sought out mine.

  Every one of my senses ignited as the world around me dissolved. All that was left was Sebastian and the icy fire in his silver eyes, the faint trace of his cologne, the sensation of his hands as they explored my body, the taste of his lips, his heavy breathing.

  I was simultaneously drowning in the bottom of the deepest ocean and soaring to the top of the highest mountain peak, my body reaching a boiling point as my mind snowballed into a flurry of emotion. Sharing in the rhythm of our hearts, this moment, much like Sebastian’s song, needed no words of accompaniment. Just when I thought that I was going to spontaneously combust, Sebastian groaned, pushing away from me.

  “Dawn…” My name seemed to come out as both a plea and a warning. “We can’t…” He looked down at me, silver eyes blazing with dangerous intensity.

  We can’t, even if I want to, they seemed to say.

  I hooked my fingers through the belt loop of his jeans, pulling him back to me, annoyed at the fabric separating us. He flinched, gently disconnecting my hands as he brought them to his lips. “Not before I can say the words,” he panted, trying to catch his breath. With great strength, he moved to the side, dropping down next to me, so that we were lying side by side. My fingers still against his lips, he kissed them tenderly. “Not until you hear the full song,” he said looking over to me.

  Despite the painful jolt that rocked my body as we broke apart, he didn’t have to explain himself any further. He was right. I needed to hear those words. More importantly, I wanted to be able to say them back.

  He turned to his side and smiled down at me. Draping a hand across my waist, he tenderly scooped me to him, bringing us together again. My back molded to his torso as he gently kissed the top of my head. I pressed tighter into his bare chest, feeling it rise and fall in rhythm to his breathing. We lay in silence, relishing in the blissful sensations brought on by our closeness. Our heartbeats slowly synchronized, playing out a quiet, harmonious melody.

  I fell asleep without a single worry in the world.

  Things were going to be okay.

  I woke up inside a dream. A stifling dream about Aurora. She was back—she’d found a way through the barriers in my mind, but this time, things were different. More intense. And she wasn’t the one inside my head. Instead, I was in hers. She was so near; I could almost smell her—a mixture of cold fall air and dead roses. I tried to force myself to wake, but the dream held me shackled within its surreal trance. As Aurora’s presence intensified, she was suddenly everywhere—both inside me and outside of my bedroom door.

  She began to speak, and I tried to run, but my body was imprisoned in the bed. Though she was inside my mind, the voice that had grown to be so familiar—a pitch higher and a shade colder than my own—was directed at someone else. Someone whose words I couldn’t hear.

  “I’ve kept my promise,” Aurora hissed. “All you’ve done is stall.”

  I strained to make out the other speaker’s response, but their words floated away before I could catch them.

  “Something has to be done,” Aurora continued. It felt odd to be hearing her voice when the words weren’t actually intended for me. “You’re wasting time playing games while I do all your dirty work.”

  Again, I couldn’t catch the reply. I strained, wishing I could manipulate this lucid nightmare.

  “I’m done following your rules,” Aurora was saying. “Feel free to stick to your plan, but know that I’m putting my own in m
otion. Tonight. I’m not going to stand by idly and watch her take Sebastian away from me.”

  The other speaker’s voice rose slightly. Regardless, I still couldn’t decode a single word.

  “It’s my turn to be selfish now. Just remember, Mother, the sooner Dawn dies, the sooner we can both get our lives back.”

  Then someone clicked the off button on my dream, and both the sound of Aurora’s voice and the smell of dead flowers vanished.

  Mother, Mother, Mother, the word rang in my head.

  Aurora was plotting to kill me—with the help of our mother.

  I was pulled back into dreamless sleep before I had a chance to fully dwell on the impossible nightmare.

  Lena had to die.

  Lena had to die, and I had to be the one to kill her.

  The events that took place after I’d made up my mind to kill Lena played out in a blinding flurry of hazy flashes. There was no sound to the movie inside my head. Just images. Images I fought to turn off. Images I couldn’t escape.

  Lena on her phone, agreeing to meet me in the woods.

  Me watching her approach our designated meeting place.

  The confusion that crossed her face as I stepped out of the shadows.

  The peace that returned to her delicate features when I began to speak.

  The fear that ensued when the dagger pierced her heart.

  The golden light in her eyes dimming slowly, like a flaming sun setting for the final time.

  Her body crashing to the cold, wet ground.

  Me drenched in her blood, screaming a scream no one could hear.

  Finally, just darkness.

  My eyes snapped open. My heart hammered against my chest as my vision slowly returned. I was back at the cottage, lying on my bed, nestled safely in Sebastian’s arms. Anxiety filled every crevice of my mind and body as the events of the evening came flooding back.

  My night with Sebastian.

  The dream about Aurora.

  And the nightmare about Lena.

  “Lena!” I screamed, jumping up. “Where’s Lena?”

  Sebastian stirred. “Lena? Back at my house, I assume,” he mumbled, raising his head off the pillow. “Why?”

  “We need to find her!” I yelled, flinging myself out of the bed. “Now!”

  I banged my shin against the footboard as I scrambled for the door. The urgency in my voice must have resonated with Sebastian because he didn’t question my actions. He simply followed behind as I flew down the stairs, through the front door, and into the forest.

  My muscles screamed in pain as I strained to run faster than I’d ever run before. I had to prove that my dream of hurting Lena was just a horrible nightmare. Looking down at my hands, I searched for traces of blood. Nothing. Not even a smudge. Lena was alive and well. She was at Sebastian’s; she had no business lying on the forest floor.

  Every ounce of hope diminished the moment I reached the tall oak tree from my dream. A wave of nausea washed over me as my eyes landed on the bright, fiery mane peeking through the dry leaves on the ground. Falling to my knees beside her, I frantically began to dig Lena out of her leafy grave. The dagger was no longer embedded in her chest, but there was a clear red mark above her heart. Her thin cotton shirt was drenched in blood, her eyes open, staring vacantly up at the starless sky. I coughed back the dry heaves that ensued, fighting the urge to vomit as Sebastian checked Lena’s pulse.

  “Is she alive?” I whispered.

  Did I kill her?

  Sebastian removed his shirt and pressed it against Lena’s wound. “I can’t tell,” he said, struggling to find her heartbeat.

  “She’s alive...she’s alive...” I whispered, crawling toward her. “Right?”

  He exhaled sharply. “Dawn...I can’t find a pulse.”

  “Keep trying!” I yelled, pushing past him, pressing my own hand against her soft skin.

  Nothing, nothing, nothing!

  “Get Razor!” I urged him. “Tell him to bring his tools. We need to do another blood transfusion.”

  “Dawn…”

  “Blood transfusion,” I repeated, my voice breaking. “She needs my blood!”

  “Dawn…” Sebastian grasped my shoulders, pulling me away from Lena’s body. “She—”

  I shook him off. “Hurry! We’re running out of time!”

  Seeing the determination in my eyes, he relented. He rushed off to find Razor while I slashed my hand and pressed the blood into Lena’s mouth.

  Drink, Lena…please, drink.

  Wake up!

  Time seemed to drag on. Every second lasted an eternity. Finally, they appeared, sprinting through the forest, weaving between trees, crushing branches beneath their feet. Collapsing next to us, Razor silently observed the scene, his mouth twisting in pain at the sight of Lena’s lifeless body.

  Examining her, he shook his head and said, “I’m sorry, D. I can’t do what you’re asking of me. It’s much too dangerous. She’s too far gone, and your forta isn’t as strong as you think; especially not so soon after your last—”

  “I don’t need a lecture right now! Please just do the transfusion,” I begged. “For me. For Lena.”

  “I can’t.” He shook his head. “Not unless I can guarantee that you’ll come back from it unharmed. And I can’t.”

  I turned to Sebastian. “Tell him!” I pleaded. “She’s your friend too. We have to save her!”

  “If you do this, we risk losing you both,” Sebastian whispered hoarsely, but I could tell he was battling forcing his own judgment on me in an attempt to heed my request to make my own decisions. “Please think of the consequences,” he begged.

  Lena was running out of time. I grabbed Razors bag, pulling out the transfusion materials. Syringes and tubes spilled from the pouch, falling onto my lap.

  “I’ll do it myself!” I cried.

  Terror seized Razor’s face as I fumbled with a needle. “Dawn!” It was the first time he’d ever used my full name. “You’ll hurt yourself!”

  “Then you do it!” I shoved the sharp object into his hand. “Hurry! She doesn’t have much time!”

  I don’t know if it was my crazed look, my frantic pleas, or because he knew that if he didn’t help me, I’d try to carry out the procedure myself, but Razor nodded and took the equipment. I gritted my teeth as he inserted a needle into my artery, then connected the tube to Lena’s arm.

  “Get more tubes, hook me up to more needles!”

  “You’re going to lose too much blood too quickly,” Razor warned.

  “We can’t afford to wait.”

  Five minutes later, I was connected over Lena’s body, desperately hoping that my blood would save her. Sebastian positioned himself behind me so that I could rest against his chest during the transfusion.

  “Tell me when you start to feel weak,” Razor ordered.

  “I will,” I lied.

  “This isn’t going to end well,” he muttered under his breath.

  “I don’t care,” I said. I didn’t have a right to care about myself—not after what I did. “I have to save her.”

  I felt Sebastian’s chest tighten. “Even if it kills you?” he asked.

  It’s the least I can do. After all, I tried to kill her.

  “I was given this power for a reason,” I told him.

  Even if I hadn’t hurt Lena, there was no way that I could just watch her die if there was the slightest possibility of saving her life. I’d helped Sammy; I’d brought her back from the brink of death. I was just hoping that it wasn’t too late for Lena. Sebastian squeezed my hand as I slowly slid out of consciousness.

  Lena’s bloodcurdling screams penetrated my soul, jarring me awake. “Get her away from me!” she cried out in terror. “Please get her away from me!”

  She thrashed around, kicking at the leaves underneath her feet. The violent movement plucked the needles from my arms, leaving behind small, pink wounds. Razor tried to gain control over Lena’s limbs. She stumbled to her feet, first shakily, bu
t then adrenaline seized her body as she sprinted off into the forest.

  “She killed me!” Lena’s scream echoed through the darkness.

  Too tired to speak, too drained to move, I drifted off into the now-familiar limbo of nothingness.

  By the time I finally came to, three days had vanished. And so had Lena. According to Sebastian, the attack had terrified her. She had fled Angel Creek and permanently returned to Mexico. From the way the team treated me—fussing over my well-being and commending me on saving Lena—I knew with certainty that she had never divulged what I’d done. My stomach lurched violently as I listened to them speculate that the attempt on Lena’s life had been carried out by those responsible for the Born kidnappings. Sebastian and Razor had brushed off her accusations against me as being a result of shock, never once questioning what she had said. I was in the clear, but that didn’t mean that I wanted to be.

  My actions haunted me. Every time I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror on my bedroom wall, I was reminded of the monster that resided within me. Whether by Aurora’s power or my own, I was capable of hurting an innocent being. The guilt invaded my veins like a deeply corrosive substance, spreading throughout my body, eating me up from the inside. At the same time, I was consumed by rage. I was angry at Aurora, but even angrier at myself for letting my guard down, for having been so powerless. I was certain that the monster inside me had carried out her threat to take things into her own hands, forcing me to hurt Lena in an attempt to distance me from Sebastian.

  If she’d succeeded at doing it once, what prevented her from doing it again?

  Which one of my friends would be the next target of her crusade against me?

  I was a threat to everyone I cared about, and there was only one way to prevent myself from hurting them. I was still in bed, recovering from the blood transfusion-induced coma, when I made up my mind on what I had to do.