My Place, My Fate (Book 1: Fate Series)

Chapter 8

'The finest souls are those who gulped pain and avoided making others taste it.' – Nizariat

Oblivion.

Not a state I would have ever imagined to find myself in; then again I had never imagined my current situation either. I should have just stayed in my quiet little sea-side town, or better yet told Sebastian to go shove his Were Council threats where the good light don't shine.

I had been too scared of losing Sophia, and too weak to fight against the darkness to protest against the injustice dealt to me by the cruel fates.

Even in this state of limbo I can't help but wonder how my life would be had I acquiesced to his demands and let him take Sophia away- if I had simply opted for my solitude than for pack life.

Nothing good ever came of it, case and point my current situation lying in a pool of my own blood desperately clinging to the little amount of air my bruised ribs would allow. The searing pain running through my entire being doesn't seem to make it any easier; making me rethink whether survival is notable.

I find myself searching for the bright white light that people often talk about hoping to be rid of it all. Yet life doesn't seem to be as accommodating as I had hoped, for even in the haze I am in darkness akin to the depths of tartarus has engulfed me slowly consuming the tattered remains of my sanity.

I am forced once again to re-think the worth of my life, if it is worth an ounce of this torture.

Yes!

The response so strong and unyielding that I would have spoken it out if it wasn't for the blood slowly forming in my throat.

For Sophia I would experience this pain tenfold if it meant she have the life that would have been robbed of her.

"Amelia!" I heard my name pierce through the fog in my mind.

The voice itself sounded so far making me wonder whether or not I had imagined it. Yet I could hear the voice again, deep and rough like the lowest note of a stringed instrument.

I wonder if he will find me before I am dead, I mused.

Calling out was not an option, and any form of movement sent a bolt of pain through my frail body reminding me of my pitiful state.

"Amelia!" A different voice called out this time, giving me the first ray of hope that I might be discovered. If anything I prayed there would be more than the two of them.

I could hear the dull sound of footsteps gradually nearing my location, the sound of the footfalls resonating through my mind making me wince at every thud.

"Oh my God, Amelia," the deep voice exclaimed, causing me to wince from his tone.

I must look awful if this strong man- whom I had never associated with soft emotion to anyone beside his daughter- was visibly reduced to soft words.

Those damn rogues better be all dead if I looked like I was ran over by a steam roller, and one just so happened to be clinging to its life.

"I am so sorry we weren't here sooner. You're going to be fine." He promised.

I did not need his apologies or his promises.

What I needed was his assistance, and when that was done, I never wanted to anywhere near his retched pack lands. Nothing good ever came of it.

An explosion of pain went through me, bringing me out of my thoughts. They're moving me. I moaned as the pain intensified, making me spit up blood.