Awakening: Book 1

by L. T. Marshall

  I feel a thousand times better and scoot back to my cupboard to find thick fluffy bed socks for my now soft and supple feet, and climb on the bed to plait out the front of my hair to keep it off my face. The layers are long enough now, and always falling in front of my eyes so I French plait across the front and finish it off down one side of my face with a little elastic from my bag.

  I hop up to admire myself in the mirror once more, and the difference it makes is amazing. Radiant and squeaky clean; my skin flawless in its sun kissed beauty, and glowing. My hair is lighter, and shinier once more, now the filth is stripped out and the natural highlights of my blonde are softly shining through. The style framing my face and drawing attention to my now slimmer cheek bones and long neck.

  I look less child, and way more woman, and I can’t help the little confidence boost it gives me. My green eyes shining brightly back at me, despite hints of dark circles under my eyes, but overall, I look pretty. I never used to think I was anything of the sort, but now I see it. Like finally seeing what Colton sees, and it’s not a girl anymore, or a shy feeble little no one who used to cower away from all Santos. I now stand tall, with my chin tilted up, and there’s more presence to my posture than before. A look in my eyes that says fierce because I’ve lived through some amount of shit so far already, and no one is going to push me back in the shadows. I have fuller lips, defined bone structure, and a better length of hair that suits my face shape. I could give Carmen a run for her money looking like this, and honestly, side by side, I put my bets on me. It’s weird to finally appreciate myself this way.

  I scan the room, aware that now I have this boost I no longer want to lie on the bed and the restless fire in me is up and revving inside. I don’t want to lie down until my hair dries anyway, and I now have the urge to go check on Sierra and see how she’s settled. Colton looked tired, so maybe I should offer to swap. Sit by his mom while he sleeps in here and gets some much-needed rest. I mean, we are sharing, sort of, so maybe we could alternate and when one uses it the other stays with Sierra, until we figure something else out.

  I’m sure the only thing to sleep on in there is a couch, unless they have more beds on wheels to give him, and I make up my mind that it’s the only thing to do. He’s important to the pack and I’m not really, not right now anyway. He should rest well, in a real bed, in his own room, and I think I want to sit by Sierra for a little while, surrounded by noise, and movement, like I was in the forest, until I feel calmer about being back among everyday life. I need a transition period.

  I check myself over once more as my night shirt slides off one shoulder, exposing soft peachy skin, and try to figure out if this is modest enough attire to go walking around the homestead. I’m covered, and the shirt is almost to my knees, not thin enough to see through. It’s baggy, and pretty shapeless, but it does cling to my breasts as it keeps sliding down off my left shoulder so that I don’t look frumpy in it. There’s a peek of shadow from my navy underwear, but overall, it’s just a shirt, I don’t need to get dressed. Not really.

  With my mind made up, I pad out into the hall, clicking the door closed quietly behind me and realize t how quiet this place is for the hour. It must be after midnight for sure, but I can’t be certain, and tiptoe down the dimly lit hall towards the door we took Sierra through earlier, so as not to make any noise and disturb people who may be close by down here.

  I know where the infirmary is, and I don’t hesitate in clicking open the door and sliding into the extra hallway that shields the infirmary from people walking in, the airy white painted box area with vinyl grey floor. I make my way through that second door too, to the double doors with windows, and through the glass I can see Colton sat by her side, reading a book to her. His back to me, and tilted down towards her at his side, so I can make out his profile and the book perched on the side of her bed.

  The Doctor is asleep on a bed in the corner, looking completely comatose with a blanket thrown over him, and the femme medic is standing off to one side at a counter and doing something. I guess she’s on night duty while Doc sleeps. There’s no one else there, and the lights have been set to low, so the only illuminations of any brightness come from the medic at her workspace. The rest is dim, even where Colton sits, and I can barely make out the low hum of his voice as he talks to her.

  I click open the door as quietly as I can and move in quickly, and silently, but he seems to know and immediately looks my way, catching my eye and then sliding his vision up and down my with an appreciative half smile as he does so.

  You look knock out and much like the old you. Although why are you not in bed? He mind links me and despite myself I blush and make my way to him to stand beside him at the bed. Trying to ignore the rise in heart rate, and how overly aware I seem to be now I’m back beside him yet wearing noticeably thinner clothing, so his body heat warms me by being close.

  I couldn’t sleep and figured you might want the bed and I could stay with her.

  Colton shifts in his seat and turns so he faces my way and hauls over another stool off to the side to beside him and pats it for me to sit.

  “I don’t want to leave her just yet, sit with me. Keep me company.” He locks a look on my face, that half smile, the one that melts me, with those excruciating dimples which set my belly alight. I slide onto the seat immediately, too swayed by that face, and hating myself for the obedience, knowing it’s probably stupid to cozy beside him in the middle of the night given the last time we got so close in here, but something inside of me is urging me to stay with him. The desire is stronger than my will, and even though I try to sit away slightly, once he turns back to his mom, his shoulder and arm fit snugly against me and make me tremble with the effects of his touch. That hyperawareness zooming back in, and every inch of my skin tingles in recognition of his body heat, betraying me.

  “What are you reading her?” I ask to push focus on something else, pushing him out of my mind, ignoring my traitorous body, and trying so desperately to breathe normally as my breaths shallow out. I hush my voice so as not to disturb the sleeping Doc, and it covers how breathless I’ve become in near proximity to him in such an intimate setting.

  “Lady Chatterley. It was her favorite book when I was young, always used to read it in the garden while she watched me play, so I figured maybe she might like it. The Doc says she might be able to hear us, so I don’t know… it’s stupid.” Colton reverts to that boy once more, the one I met and knew all these years, and it tugs at my heart strings so deeply I just have to touch him.

  “It’s not stupid. It’s sweet and shows her you love her. If she is aware then it’s probably nice to hear your voice, and something like a story, instead of noise, and chaos, and feeling ignored. I can’t imagine what she’s gone through.” The tugging of my heart pushes me to lean against him and lay my head on his shoulder impulsively, seeking to be soothed. Fitting like he was made to have me curl up beside him, and he readjusts his position, so I slot right in at him, resting his cheek against the top of my head. Much like me, it seems anytime I’m close or touch him, Colton too has to respond to the pull and always touches me back. I hate that even when we’re no longer allowed or able to be together, the need to be this way overpowers everything else. It stirs up so much ache inside of me and brings that awful choking sensation back to my throat.

  I’m torn in my sadness for Sierra and driven by the force of his pull whenever he’s close. I know I’m betraying myself by initiating the touch and I’m trying so hard to fight it. Colton is too easy, and too inviting, like a safe harbor that calls to me, to come shelter from the cruel world, especially when I’m feeling vulnerable, and tonight this was probably a bad idea. I haven’t had any real sleep, my emotions are all over the place, and I’m too tired to really fight any of it.

  “Maybe we can stay here like this until she wakes up, and I can stop thinking or feeling and just take a minute…” Colton’s voice is as soft as mine, hushed, and his breath tickles my forehead as he utters
the words. Igniting goosebumps and all manner of crazy feelings, and thoughts, at his suggestion. To sit here with him like this for two days and ignore everything, pretend for a little while, that this is all we need to care about. Cuddling up doesn’t sound wholly awful. It sounds like stealing last moments before reality sets in and I can’t say I’m against it. Pretending for a little while that we’re okay and there’s nothing wrong with his touch.

  Colton takes my silence as an agreement and reaches out and flips over the page of the book as though he intends to start reading to her again, it just pushes me to curl up against him all the more, settling in to listen, and mentally chastising myself to pretend this is a frozen moment. Where nothing matters except listening to him read and watching her sleep.

  “My two favorite girls…. What more could I want?” Colton slides his arm from between us and instead lassoes it around me and pulls me in against his chest, fully igniting that sense of safe and secure. I melt and give up completely, sinking into his embrace and blot out all the noise coming from my brain, all the words of warning, and refusals. I want to be held by him and cherish this moment if I need to get through the rest of my life watching him bonded to someone else.

  His hand on the book slides away from it, and places it on his moms forehead instead, gently stroking her hair back, and then resting lightly on her hairline as he leans in to be able to see the words on the pages. I pull my feet up on the bar of the stool and drop my knees against his, drawing warmth in every area of my body now, sliding one arm behind him and making the most of allowing myself to be immersed in his body. I reach out gently and touch Sierra’s hand as instinct takes over, the need to let her know I’m here too is all consuming for some unknown reason. The sudden compulsion to connect to her and somehow complete this little circle we have going on.

  “She’s so very beautiful. You look like your….”

  My words die on my lips as my fingers slide fully over hers and I capture her hand in mine, a warming sensation travels up from my fingertips, and something crazy happens to me. My mind almost jolts with the force of an electric zap, that yanks me closer to the bed and I almost tumble out of Colton’s arms, but he catches me, hauling me tight to him.

  I gasp out loud as my brain somehow loses all control of all faculties, my vision whites, out blinding me insanely, so that I grab hold of his leg with my one free hand to steady myself and lose all ability to hear, feel, or see. The only sensation I’m aware of is the burning connection from Sierra’s hand to mine, and the same burn coming through Colton’s arm around my waist. We’re connected all three of us, by touch, and it consumes me until I can’t fight it in any way.

  I completely blank out, losing sense of everything. Him, her, the room, it all slips away, like trying to hold water with your fingertips, and all I can do is ride with it. I can’t open my eyes, or feel my limbs, or my body at all, like I’m a mass of unconnected thoughts with no physical form.

  I try and take a breath but even that seems futile as I’m a nothingness, lingering in airless space, finding myself in a darkness that’s so eerie, yet familiar, as sounds and smells start to filter through and jog little moments of time. Distant at first, as though travelling along a tunnel, and they’re at the other end battling through a fog. They’re not the infirmary, they’re something else that tugs at my memory banks, and draws me back in time as I seem to start to fall into a memory that I never knew I had.

  The smells of summer push me into a brighter place, and I blink and slowly manage to open my eyes, suddenly aware of touch, and sensation, as I regain full control of my limbs, but there’s no one here with me. Colton isn’t here, I can’t feel him, or sense him, and I seem to be in another space entirely. In a room, lying down, one that haunts me from the past. I lift my hand to touch my face and gauge the reality of what I’m seeing, and I’m startled to see it’s so small and childlike, and blink some more to clear the fogginess so I can look again.

  Everything comes into slow focus, like a fade back in, and I know immediately where I am. The small attic makeshift room, hastily painted pink by the family that took on a child whose own had gone to battle. I’m back in the temporary room of my carer family, back when my parents went to war. The cozy bed, the painted dressers, and my ragdoll, Annie, sits on the side of my bed, watching me in my slumber. It brings back so many mixed feelings and memories, but none that I can ever recall like this. This seems new, and yet everything is here and exactly as I remember.

  It's dull, night, although it’s not darkness so it must be summer, and I know I’m supposed to be asleep, but something stirred me from my dreams of my mother and father running through our meadow in a game of tag. My senses alerting me to the window in the far corner, and I watch in terrified silence, of a vulnerable child, as something begins climbing in with precise movements and silent intent. My heart hitches, racing, and pulsing so profoundly I feel it may rip from my chest. Frozen in terror, unable to cry out for fear the monster climbing in may see me if I make a noise.

  The dark shadowy figure, wearing a large, heavy, black cloak, with the hood pulled up to veil their identity, slides up the unlocked panel of glass and slowly and carefully climbs inside, pulling their heavy robes with them, and almost soundlessly lands on the space in front of my window. I resist the urge to pull the covers over my face, my blood running cold with the terror of what is here, panic overtaking me, and I go to call out for my caretaker in youthful hysteria.

  “Don’t be afraid, little one…. Hush now!” The female voice comes from under the hood, silencing me mid open mouth gasp with the familiarity of that sound, and a raised palm. I’m startled into quiet, because I know her. I recognize her smell, her sound, her presence, as it calms me and as she turns fully towards me. All I can see are two electric blue, glowing orbs, from the dark shadow of her hood as she looks at me directly. Her eyes mesmerizing and I’ve never seen such a color before.

  “You know me, Alora. I’m here to protect you. I’m Luna Sierra Santo, I come as a friend of your mother’s…. Be still. I have much to do.”

  A Memory Lost

  I lie still, watching her, frozen, breath raspy to match my elevated heart rate, but my fears begin to calm and fade as she slides down her hood with a slow even movement, and illuminates the room with a magical blue glow of both her hands. Like a mesmerizing smoky orb around each, that follows and traces with every movement. Hypnotic in nature.

  Sierra Santo is a very beautiful woman, with almost milky skin, despite looking exotic. Her dark hair frames a delicate bone structure, and her eyes, although electrifying blue right now, are almond shaped under straight thick dark brows, so perfectly symmetrical. She has pouty lips, and an ever-present youthful charm that completely warms her to you. A face that says, ‘I can be trusted’ to match the surrounding atmosphere of serene she always carries.

  I sit up, gasping in wonderment at the light show, and reaching out to touch what I can see as she moves in and sits on the side of my bed with grace. She allows my hand to wander into hers, seeking out and investigating, before firmly surrounding my small hand in her own fingers and encompassing me within the warmth. I expected the blue air to be cold, but it’s almost like being submerged in a hot bubble bath, and I giggle at the tickle of it.

  “Don’t be afraid, Alora… it’s magic. Special, gentle, and yet so very beautiful, and kind, when used the right way. Would you like to do some magic with me while I tell you a story?” Her eyes are still that dazzling brightest azure, and I look from her hands to her eyes in awe at the vibrance of this mystical light she’s able to produce. My curiosity killing the last of my fears, and I nod with the enthusiasm of a child who wants to discover more. Naïve courage, because of my innocence.

  Of course, I shouldn’t be afraid, this is the Luna Santo and I do know her. She comes to the library to read us stories and plays with us sometimes. well she did, before all the grownups left to fight a battle. Just like my own mommy and daddy have. and my big brother Ja
sper. and my grandparents. and most of the rest of the Whyte pack. I stay with Mommy’s friend while they’re gone, Aisha Munro, one of our pack. who is big and round because she says she’s having puppies. Sierra has a son around my age, but I don’t like boys. and I don’t like playing with Santos. They’re always so pushy and aggressive when we do. and I prefer my friends from the Whyte pack. We’re softer, we play less rough and tough games than fighting and hunting. They’re just stupid.

  “How can a wolf do magic?” I ask, blinking trustingly and adjusting to fully see her in this dimness, leaning up against my headboard and shuffling my butt so I can sit properly. With blue as our light source, everything it touches between us is shaded in cold hues, which add even more magic to the atmosphere all around us, and I smile as I watch it envelop my own hand and spread up my arm. It feels strange, but good, like soft gentle air being blown across the surface of my skin, only warm.

  “Well that’s a story, and one I would like to tell you. Remember how we used to read at the library, when you all laid on the floor, and closed your eyes so you could get lost in the pictures your mind creates? We can do that now if you like, so you can listen and empty your mind from any distractions. I need you to focus on my words and not my light.” Her voice is so soothing, low, yet pretty. I’ve always liked Sierra’s voice, it has such a calming quality, like a warm wave washing over you on a cool day. A husky depth that is a little lower than most femmes, but it’s melodic.