Flames of Fury

Chapter 4

I have bad news, good news, and more bad news in that order. 

Bad news: I've been procrastinating SO hard on writing Flames chapters.

Good news: Through my procrastination I've come up with an idea for book 3. Which is a prospect I never thought would happen. Of course I didn't think book 2 would happen and here we are.

Bad news: I have to finish Flames before I release book 3. Which SUCKS because I'm so excited about book 3. 

— — — — —

Magnolia

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

It's the beeping that stirs me, but I can't manage to lift my leaden eyelids to look around at my whereabouts.

My eyes aren't the only things that feel weighed down, my entire body feels heavy. I try to lift an arm but that proves impossible. I don't feel anything restraining me, but still my arm remains immobile. I try for something smaller, a finger maybe.

I manage to lift my pointer finger off the bed, though it's a great effort. My head lolls from side to side, too heavy to lift fully off of whatever it is I'm lying on.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Gods I wish that fucking noise would stop.

I hear footsteps approaching, the beeping gets faster. Two sets of footsteps. The beeping is even faster still.

"What's wrong? Why is her heart beating that fast?" A male voice speaks, but not one that warms my heart.

No.

This voice is frigid, like acid to the senses.

It's his voice.

The beeping screams through the room, my chest heaving as I struggle to breathe. He's immobilized me. If I can't move, I can't summon my fire, I can't burn his pale ass to the ground — I can't escape.

"Sir, I think it would be best if you left. I need to give her something to relax, to bring down her heart rate. But this is a good sign, it means she's starting to wake up." A female voice says calmly, but sternly.

Don't you fucking touch me. I try to lift an arm, a finger, anything, in self defense but my body continues to disobey me. I toss my head from side to side, silently screaming "No!"

A cold rush of fluid runs through my veins, it seeps up my hand into my arm.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

The beeping slows, my breathing slows.

"Call me the second she's conscious." Ian growls at the woman.

"Yes, King Illian." She responds.

And then the darkness comes for me again.

***

Beep. Beep. Beep.

I stir to consciousness again. It's not the beeping that wakes me this time, though I'm acutely aware of the incessant noise.