Page 11 of Beneath the Mountain Sky

My head throbs as I struggle to remember what might have put me here, but all that comes is that same pitch black that surrounded me before I woke.

I turn back to Killian, wincing at the ice pick slamming into my temples. “What happened? Why am I in the hospital?”

He glances behind him, and I follow his gaze to where Connor and Liam stand. His brothers look just as nervous and concerned as he does, shifting on their feet and averting their gazes. Liam runs a hand over his short, reddish hair while Connor presses his lips together, his dark brows narrowed over hard eyes that focus on the foot of my bed and not me.

Neither one of them has ever been uncomfortable around me before or afraid to speak their mind.

Confusion shifts to unease bordering on panic.

What is going on?

No one says anything, and before anyone can or I can ask again, a woman in a while lab coat enters the room and flicks on the lights. I wince, and her soft hazel eyes immediately fall on me over the rim of tortoise-shell glasses, and she offers a genuine smile. “Willow, nice to see you awake.”

I try to sit up, but Killian places a gentle hand on my shoulder, keeping me prone. “Don’t try to move too much.”

What happened to me?

He’s obviously terrified, and if I’m in the big hospital in Asheville, that means it wasn’t something Doc Broward and his nurse, Amy, could handle at the McBride Mountain Clinic.

All I see when I try to remember how I got here is a vast, empty black hole.

The doctor approaches the bed on the side opposite where Killian sits and takes a look at the monitors and something on the tablet in her hand. “I’m Dr. Sommers. How are you feeling?”

I attempt to process the question and take stock of my body. The aches. The stabbing pains when I move. The throbbing in my head. “Like shit.”

She chuckles softly. “I would imagine so, given your injuries.”

“Injuries?”

Killian squeezes my shoulder. “You’re okay. Right, Doc?”

Dr. Sommers presses her lips together and meets my gaze after giving him a reproachful look. “You have quite a few bumps and bruises, lots of scratches and scrapes, and the cut above your eye needed stitches, but you were lucky that the only things broken were a few cracked ribs.”

“What?” Panic seizes my chest, wrapping around it and tightening until my breaths feel more like a slow trickle of air instead of filling my lungs. “Wh-what happened? Was I…in a car accident?”

She exchanges another look with Killian that I can’t quite decipher.

He cups my face, turning it back toward him. “What do you remember?”

“I…” I try again, but there’s still an empty abyss where my memory of whatever got me here should be. “I don’t…I can’t…the last thing I remember is being at the Memorial Day Festival, watching you do the carving demonstration. I was with Raven.” Darkness encroaches again, and I shake my head to try to keep it at bay, but I immediately regret the move when it makes those daggers stab into my brain again. “And that’s it. I don’t…”

Killian’s eyes widen, and he glances at his brothers.

Their earlier nervousness has shifted into something else.

Fear.

My lips tremble along with my body. “What is it?”

Killian’s throat works, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he peeks up at the doctor. “Um…Willow, that was a year ago.”

No…

I try to push myself up, but the doctor gently presses on my shoulder, keeping me down.

Killian pulls his hand from my cheek to shove it through his long, unruly hair, pushing out of his chair to his feet. “We just had the festival again last week, Willow. And you weren’t there. That was a year ago that you watched me…”

“What?” No. No. No. No. No. No. “That can’t…that can’t be right.”