Page 60 of Dissent (The Dissenter Saga #1)

G od, my head hurt. And not just my head, but my everything hurt.

I felt like I got run over by a train, picked up, drop-kicked across a field, and then run over again by the same damn train.

What the hell happened? I started mentally scanning my body—feet, legs, fingers, arms—it was all there.

What did I remember? I remembered falling backward.

Falling.

Falling from what? I saw darkness and…trees. I had seen the forest canopy.

The forest.

I was running in the forest. Yes, that felt right. I had been running through the forest, running away. The memory skirted around the edges of my consciousness. I remembered Chelsea, all battered and bruised. She had come back.

I kept pushing myself, kept trying to remember.

Matias. Matias was with Chelsea.

A wave of jealousy and hurt flooded me. I remembered that. I remembered Matias choosing Chelsea over me. The anguish curled its icy grip around my heart and squeezed. I went to move my hand, to clutch my achy chest. Wait a minute…

I couldn’t.

I couldn’t move my hand.

Panic started up within me. Shit! This was bad.

As the thought crossed my mind, déjà vu hit.

I had thought those same words before I fell.

Okay…stay calm. What happened next? I was tugging on the memory, pushing myself to remember more.

But as I pushed myself, the pain hit my head .

Damn it, that hurt! Instinctively, I went to draw my hand to my head, but it didn’t work.

Alarm bells went off inside me. I tried to move my hand again, but I had nothing.

Oh no!

I tried to move something else, my legs, fingers, toes. I even tried opening my eyes, but I couldn’t do any of it. Panic welled up within me. My breath quickened as the anxiety rose.

I tried to shift my weight. I could sense the pressure of my body against something. The ground. I was still on the ground. Okay, don’t panic. I tried to take in a deep breath to soothe my nerves, but it was hard.

It’s okay…I’m going to be okay.

I could sense heat. I felt it on one side of my face, but nowhere else, and I heard crackling and popping too.

I took in another deep breath and attempted to open my eyes.

They felt so heavy, like I needed a crowbar to pry them open.

But I managed—one lid, then two—barely opened.

But I couldn’t see anything. Everything was blurry, colors blending into one another.

Fuck…okay, what else do I remember? What else happened?

I stretched my mind out again, tugging desperately at the memory.

I had been lost. And then, then someone showed up…

a scout! A scout found me, but something happened.

There were others, more people were there.

I remembered a stinging sensation, and then…

and then a burn. Where? I kept scraping the bottom of my mind, clawing to remember.

My neck.

It was my neck where I felt the sting. And then it all came back to me like a runaway train. Telvian soldiers had found me. They had killed the scout and shot me, and I had died. But I wasn’t dead. I was alive, and I couldn’t move anything! I could barely see, for god’s sakes!

Drugged.

The thought clicked into place. Okay, this was good. Well, maybe not good because, hello? Being drugged was never a good thing! But it was coming back to me. I was lost, found by Telvian soldiers, and they had drugged me.

I was getting there. A little hope glimmered deep within me, but even as it started to shine, it was stamped out just as quickly as a realization hit me—I was in deep shit.

Telvian soldiers wouldn’t drug anybody for a good reason.

I could feel the panic rise within me again. Breathe…just keep breathing.

My vision was slowly clearing. The colors coming through a little more vibrantly, and the blurred lines of where one object ended and another began became more defined.

I tried to blink my eyes, hoping that sliding my lids over my irises and pupils would further clarify my sight.

It worked. I blinked again, and then once more, until my vision was finally back.

I was staring at a ceiling…a beautiful crystal chandelier hanging right above me.

The glittering jewels twinkling as the light caught them.

And the realization hit me with so much force, it nearly took my breath away.

Because I’ve only ever seen crystal chandeliers like this in one place in my whole life.

And it was the same glittering, jewel-like crystals I admired my entire childhood.

It was the same crystals that I spent many nights reading beneath by the comfort of a warm fire—the same fire I knew was producing the heat on the right side of my body.

With a strain of every muscle in me, I pushed to turn my head. But just like everything else, I couldn’t move it. But I had to. I had to know. I had to confirm that I was where I thought I was.

I pushed harder, feeling the strain in the finer muscles across my face, the tension making my head pound even harder than before. But I pushed past it, straining every muscle in my face and neck, and finally, my head moved. Slowly, I turned it to the right, toward the warmth I felt.

And then I saw it.

The white stone marbling that framed a large hearth with a raging fire. I saw the delicate gold clock ticking on the mantel, and the two marbled stone lions silently roaring with pride. The realization, the utter pit of acceptance, fell upon me.

I knew where I was.

I knew it without a shadow of a doubt. A deep sensation of despair crossed over me, swelling in the pit of my stomach and filling me to the brim.

I could feel the tears welling up as the knowledge crushed my soul.

Because I knew exactly where I was. I was back where I started.

I was back in the hell I grew up in, despite its glitzy crystals and refined marbles.

I was back in Telvia. I was back in the library.

And standing right in front of me, perched along the mantle of the fireplace, was Raúl.