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Flynn

C onsciousness returned in fits and starts, like a tide lazily lapping at the shore. First came the darkness, then disjointed sensations washing over me in waves: the metallic taste in my mouth, the throbbing at the base of my skull, the nauseating sway of movement.

Metal dug into my shoulder, then my hip, then back again as I rolled across the floor of what had to be a van. Zip ties bit into my wrists, twisted behind my back.

Bang. My forehead smacked against something solid. More rolling. The vehicle swerved, and I slammed into the wheel well. Everything ached.

How long had I been out? The van’s interior was pitch black, offering no clues. Each bump sent me tumbling, unable to brace myself.

At least the bone-deep cold had receded. Small mercies. Was the dark magic ready to harvest? Were they about to cut it out of me?

Another sharp turn sent me crashing into the opposite wall.

Pain bloomed across my ribs, but it felt distant, disconnected.

Everything felt distant. The terror that should have been overwhelming me just…

wasn’t there. Instead, a heavy numbness had settled in my chest as I bounced from side to side like a forgotten parcel.

What a rubbish way to go. All those dreams I’d had about seeing the world, gone. Completing my solo sail across the Atlantic. Falling in love.

Mum would never know what happened to me. She’d be devastated. First Dad, then me. And Katie… God, Katie. She’d blame herself for not trying harder to get me to come home. Tom too. Fuck, he’d feel awful.

And Seb. He’d tear himself apart, convince himself it was his fault. He’d carry that weight forever—however long forever was for a vampire.

Now I’d never know what he might have said back, after everything at the bakery.

The van hit another pothole, and my head cracked against the floor. Deep-rooted pain bled across my skull. All I could do was hold on to an image of Seb’s face—that rare, genuine smile that felt like it belonged to me.