I was alive. But....barely.
A sharp, throbbing pain had settled in my limbs. My body was so stiff it felt like a wooden board, aching in ways I hadn't felt before. My mouth was dry, my tongue heavy, like it had been glued to the roof of my mouth.
I blinked slowly, my vision swimming in and out of focus. The last thing I remembered was being drugged by my father's Healer. Where… where was I?
The antiseptic smell hit me first, sterile and cold, like the kind you find in hospitals. Panic stole my senses for a moment, and I squirmed uncomfortably. The squirming told me two things: One, I was lying on something hard, and two, my arms were held down beside me. I tried to move, but the resistance I felt made my panic increase.
I was chained.
My wrists were manacled to the cold metal surface under me. I squirmed again and pulled harder, ignoring the sting, but the chains wouldn't budge. I was stuck. Trapped.
Oh, Goddess!
I groaned, and my muscles screamed in pain as I shifted. The drugs still clung to my system, dulling my senses, but the throbbing pain in my head helped me think more clearly. But it felt as if someone was hammering directly behind my eyes.
What happened? How did I get here?
Flashes of the living room darted through my mind—the letter, Jesse's death, Isla's arms around me, and then… nothing. Just darkness.
I let out a gasp and forced my eyes open wider. The haze in my mind was slowly clearing. Above me, there was a blinding white light that chased away the shadows. The roof above the light was painted white, same as the walls. The room was clinical and sterile. It felt like I was inside a hollowed-out eggshell.
My stomach turned as fear flooded my veins. What was this place?
I tugged at the chains again, harder this time, but they were solid, biting into my skin like sharp teeth. My breath came in short, shallow bursts, and I bit down on my lip to keep from crying out. I couldn't give them the satisfaction of hearing me break, whoever my captors were.
Then I heard voices. Low and distant at first, but unmistakable.
I froze and strained my ears to catch the words. Those voices were muffled, but one of them was unmistakably familiar. My heart stuttered as I recognized it.
My father.
"No, she needs to be sedated," he said calmly, like this was an everyday conversation for him. "Until she forgets everything."
The words crashed into my head, more painful than the throbbing in my skull. Sedated? Until I forget… Jesse?
I blinked hard, and the figures came into sharper focus. They were standing in one corner of the large room, four people. Three of them had on large white coats. They looked like doctors, or laboratory workers.
Why? Why was my father doing this?
Another voice, this one unfamiliar but professional, responded, "We've already administered the first dose, but if we keep her under too long, there could be lasting damage to her brain. The barbiturates...."
"I don't care about damage," my father's voice snapped. "I want her under until this nonsense with Jesse is completely gone."
Nonsense? Jesse? My mind tried to piece it together, but nothing made sense. Why was my father talking about sedating me? Why did he want me to forget about Jesse?
More footsteps echoed in the room, drawing closer. I kept my eyes half-closed and my breathing shallow. I couldn't let them know I was awake.
"You realize the Conclave of Alphas will not tolerate this," one of the men in white coats murmured. "If they find out what she's been involved with—"
"They won't," my father interrupted sharply. "Because I'm going to make sure she never remembers a thing. The Conclave will kill her if they learn she was involved with Jesse."
My breath hitched. Kill me? Why? What had I done?
The conversation continued, but their words blurred together and became more confusing. Jesse… the Conclave… What was going on? What were they planning to do to me?
I dared to open my eyes a sliver more. My father stood near the door, his back to me. He looked… normal. Calm. Like he wasn't orchestrating the destruction of my life in the same cold, clinical manner as these doctors. His hands were tucked into his pockets, his shoulders squared like he was in control of everything.
Anger flared up inside me, hot and wild, but I swallowed it down. I couldn't afford to act impulsively now, when I didn't know what was happening.
The door opened with a faint click, and my father turned to leave. But I couldn't help it anymore—I needed answers.
"Dad…" I croaked.
He paused. Slowly, he turned around and met my eyes. For a moment, there was silence. His eyes, usually warm and full of pride, were so ice cold and unfamiliar.
"Lena," he called to me, "I warned you about getting involved with those wolf runts. I'm doing this for your own good."
I let out a strained sob. "Why, father? What did I do?"
He didn't answer. He just stared at me, like I was some nuisance, some problem he had to fix. And then, without another word, he turned and walked out of the room.
I choked back a cry, turning away from the door. The chains clinked softly as I pulled at them, weakly now. Why was this happening to me?
But I couldn't let the tears fall. Not when there was a chance—however slim—that I could escape. I wiped my eyes on my shoulder and took a deep but shaky breath, forcing my mind to clear.
I would not stay here. I would not let them wipe my memories of Jesse, of everything.
I had to get out.