American library books » Other » Silver Blood (Series of Blood Book 1) by Emma Hamm (bill gates book recommendations .TXT) 📕

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head.

“Please,” she whispered as a tear leaked out of her eye. It dripped down the curve of her cheek and tangled in the mess of her hair.

The pain didn’t go away.

“Please. Help me.” Her voice didn’t sound like her own. She thought there should be something else there. More voices? That didn’t make sense. What had happened to her? She tried to swallow but was instantly distracted as more pain spread through her entire body.

“Someone. Please.” She was begging the air. There was no one here that would be able to help her. No one but the man with the dark eyes and the dark hair. The man whose hands were gentle but whose eyes desired pain.

“Easy, little one.”

She stilled. The pain seemed to disappear, but in its place she quaked with fear. A voice. Her eyes searched the room, but she could not find anyone. Sweat had made her hair wet, and she could not brush it aside.

“Who’s there?”

“Wren.” The voice sounded sad.

“Your name is Wren? Where are you?”

She heard the sound of a moan. “You are Wren. My dear little one, what has he done to you?”

“I’m Wren?” She repeated. The name sounded wrong. That wasn’t right. She wasn’t a bird. She wasn’t free.

“You are Wren. I am E.”

“That’s a letter.”

“Yes it is.” The voice chuckled. “But you named me.”

“I don’t know how to name anything. I can’t even remember my own name.”

“Wren. Your name is Wren.”

“It doesn’t sound right. Birds don’t live in hospitals. Birds don’t lose their memories. Birds don’t ache like I do.”

“Some of that is my fault.” The creature whose name was E replied with sorrow. “I need to focus on something in the room that looks wrong. Wren, he’s manipulating your mind. None of this is real.”

“Of course it’s real. It feels real.”

“But something is wrong, isn’t it? You’ve seen things that aren’t right. This is our chance. He’s gone, and you need to wake up.”

She sniffed as more tears stung her eyes. But the voice was right. Something was wrong here. She really had seen the shadow in the corner of the room. She knew it had been there even though he said there was nothing.

Wren looked down at the soft padding on her arms. They hadn’t looked right either. In fact, they looked downright wrong. They were supposed to be soft, but they felt as though they were biting into her skin.

They were. The harder she stared at them, the more she could see that there were red rings around her wrists. How was something so soft hurting her?

“That’s it.” The voice said. “You’re getting it, darling, just a little bit more.”

She didn’t know what a little bit more was. But the padded straps disappeared and in their place were rusted metal shackles that rattled as she lifted her arms. But she could lift them now. She hadn’t been able to do that before.

Wren groaned. “I’m going insane.”

“You’re already there. Sorry about that. Now the rest of the room, Wren.”

“Why does it matter?” Her words were angry. “I can stay here. This is safe!”

“I cannot stress this enough. You are not safe right now.”

The words made her worried. Maybe she wasn’t safe. She couldn’t be. Her mind was fracturing and things around her weren’t right after all.

“I’m not safe,” she whispered.

“None of this is real.”

“None of this is real.” The room fell away, and the white was replaced by dark stone walls.

“This is not happening.” The bed beneath her became a dirty stone outcropping that was cutting into her skin.

“I’m not here.” Wren whispered as dirt streaks and red abrasions replaced the skin that had once been smooth.

Her heart skipped a beat, and her mind ached again instantly. She had stretched herself too far. She was mistaken. She wasn’t safe. She wasn’t herself. She wasn’t anything or anyone anymore. Wren couldn’t breathe.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, Wren. Let me take over.”

That was the best thing this imaginary voice in her head had suggested yet. It was so easy to fall back into the waiting arms that enveloped her in her own mind. There was softness there. A darkness that wasn’t filled with monsters waiting for her.

Instead, she felt as though she was wrapped in careful arms. She was a caterpillar being safely tucked into a cocoon that would someday be her safety. In the last moments, Wren remembered everything.

“E?” she whispered.

“Yes?”

“I know you said you didn’t have any power, but I’d really like you to destroy them all.”

“With pleasure.”

E wrapped Wren into its arms and held the fragile mind as though it was the most precious treasure. And it was. In the limited ability of the human mind, there was not a lot of places to be lost. But in the unending depths of Legion, she would be safe.

“I’m so sorry,” it whispered.

Souls emerged as black smoke to curl around Wren’s soul. They filled in the places where she was weak. Patched the rips and tears that were already threatening the life of her soul. They stitched her together and tied pieces of themselves to her.

They saved her the only way they knew how. By binding her to the thousands of souls that existed inside the creature that had managed to survive thousands of years. It made Wren just as much a part of itself as any other soul.

And when it was finished, it dragged her into the deepest hollows of itself. To the shadows and the darkness where she could finally attempt to heal. Where she could rest.

A soul emerged then. A strong soul that was known only as the Warlord. He had once been a general. He had once destroyed an entire nation of people. And now he would destroy everything in his path.

For the girl that Legion loved had asked.

He looked down at the manacles that held him captive and snorted. Petty younglings. They had always thought that magic was so much more useful than general knowledge.

He angled the wrist that was not his and tilted his head. One,

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