The Protector

XXXI

Comfort greets me when a state of consciousness finally decides to return. The sweet smell of lavender is shrouding the cloud, it's like when I was little and we would have clean sheet night - everything smelt of the calming purple plant. I miss the woman behind that memory, I often feel her watching over me when I get myself into these situations - the one's where I lose myself in the darkness and she's brightening the path for me to get home.

My wolf is stalking around the shadows, on edge. It's the first time I've not gotten locked inside my mind after collapsing without him there, and something tells me that isn't good. Considering you are meant to be trapped inside your mind when in any sort of coma state, maybe I died and this is the afterlife. I doubt that though since my surroundings seem familiar.

Coughing dramatically at him, he jumps. Upon seeing me, he growls, like a scolding parent. The lazy fucker lies down, wanting to go back to sleep now that he can feel my presence again. I love how he's as slothful as me, it makes things funnier because he can't get pissy at me for wanting to sleep longer than needed - he's exactly the same.

Finally, I open my eyes to see the shine of moonlight infiltrating the room that is only brightened by the natural sheen and a few neon bulbs. The sheets are soft on my skin, silky and smooth. Someone definitely made the bed before bringing me up here; I wonder who had the pleasure of carrying me - I'm not the lightest person out there.

A dull ache in my throat makes me grunt to clear it, only making it more soar, but it does unclog the frog previously taking a nap on the inside of my neck. Chances are I've either been snoring or talking in my sleep, possibly even both. Cracking my neck on either side to remove the stiffness, a loud snapping sound echoes around the somewhat silent room like a glowstick.

The clock reads five, an unacceptable time to be awake unless doing something critical which I clearly haven't been doing since my skin had moulded into the mattress. Not quite a full day, a good thing I suppose. I can't afford wasted time right now - something in me is building up and I just know that it isn't good.

Shifting my mass of weight onto my elbows, several organs and joints groan from the sudden movement. Everything aches with the need to crack and pop into place. I guess I've been on my back the whole time. Staying in the same position for too long isn't a good idea or your body forgets what movement is.

I blink around the room, drawing a blank on the events that lead to being in bed for almost an entire day. Casting back for the memory, like fishing in a lake of uncertainty, I have to cast the rod a number of times until something clicks. I would greatly appreciate my brain learning to recognise when I need the reminders at the front of my mind when waking up instead of having to fend for myself and piece it back together like a shredded jigsaw. "Blood... Human. Healing! Then more blood... and more healing. Cool..."

Admittedly, there isn't any long term pain anywhere, mainly an intense stiffness that is almost as stubborn as I am. The burning on my gut vanishes at the thought of the sensation, meaning the last thing to heal has just finished. Everything else must have fixed itself in my sleep. I guess whatever I did to Luke and his mate really took its toll on me for the process to have taken so long to complete.

Speaking of mate, where's my beautiful goddess at? With that thought in mind, I consider the possibility of nerve damage since she's curling up into my side, wearing my favourite hoodie. I'm not surprised she's chosen that one, I wear it whenever I'm fresh out of the shower on a night, it's bound to smell like me.

She's squished into my ribs, knees hauled up to her chest. My tiny sleeping puppy. She's close enough that she's basically crawling inside of my skin, and I'm not nerve damaged, just dense considering the tingles of her touch are erupting haphazardly. How haven't I woken her up with all of my muttering and twisting?