Page 1 of Phoenix Chosen 2
1
TYLER
The red Miata barrels towards me on the sidewalk, sending a trash can spinning through the air like a baton. The car clips me and I hit the concrete, ringing my noggin like a bell. There are voices, shadows, people shouting in my ear. As the tunnel of darkness closes around my vision, I see my arm stretched out onto the pavement in front of me. My hand clutches tightly around something.
What is that?
A wooden figurine, a carving of a bird.
I’m not supposed to be here.
My thoughts are confused. Muddled. It’s like I’m a ball of melting taffy being stretched into a long strand by two hands, each belonging to a different when and where.
I’m in Bakerville. I’m a security guard. I have a one-bedroom apartment with a leaky bath faucet and rent I can barely afford. My parents still believe that their twenty-five-year-old gay son is“having a phase.” I haven’t seen them in years, since I moved out of state. Good riddance.
The wooden bird floats across a black sky full of stars. My head is absolutelypounding.
I’m in Circeana, wrapped in a blue chiton robe and the arms of an alpha phoenix named Kalistratos. I’m an omega—his omega. I’m pregnant, but it’s not his. It’s not anyone’s. We’re trying to figure that out.
“This is where I belong,” my mind echoes. “With him.”
I can feel the press of his warm chest against my cheek, and when I draw in a breath, it’s filled with his comforting scent. It’s almost enough to make this damn headache go away. But then, he’s gone too.
Kalistratos is the dream that’s supposed to save me, but now it feels like I’m trapped in a nightmare. Slowly, bits and pieces come back to me in the black of my unconsciousness. His hand reaches out for mine as I’m pulled away and sucked into a tear in space. I know that someone wanted to pull me away from him, but who?
I’m awake. An unfamiliar ceiling comes into focus, and it takes time for me to digest that what I’m staring up at isn’t painted mud brick, but the pockmarked fiber of a hospital drop ceiling. The smell isn’t incense, fragrant oils, and dry earth; it’s the bitter chemical bite of disinfectant and antiseptic cleaner. The rhythmic beep from off to my right is shrill and unnatural. It feels like it’s been ages since I’ve heard anything electronic.
It's really hard for me to make sense of my thoughts. I once read somewhere that an entire dream happens within a fewshort moments right as you’re waking up. Right now, I can’t tell what parts of my memories are real and which are dreams. I’m in a hospital bed. I remember the car.
But Kalistratos…
And…
The monitor beeps faster as I slide my hand over my stomach, and what I feel tows my heart down like an anchor.
Nothing.
The baby bump is not there, and why would it be? I’m not an omega, and I can’t get pregnant.
My heart feels like it’s shredding itself into pieces, leaving me with nothing but an empty black hole in my chest that will swallow me from the inside out. I squeeze my eyes shut and pull the memories of Kalistratos into focus. I see the bright copper flashes of his eyes, the shape of his grin, and feel the roughness of his calloused palms against my skin. I can hear his voice in my ear like a soft rumble, and his laughter, too.
I hear the door open, and it takes me a stupid amount of effort to tilt my head to look. My room is small. There’s a window to my right, but a sheer white curtain is drawn over it, cutting the sunlight to a soft glow. On my left is an empty counter, a space that might normally be filled with flowers, get-well cards, and stuffed animals. A woman about my age wearing a white coat walks up to my bedside.
“Good afternoon, Tyler,” she says with a warm smile. “I’m glad to see you’re awake. I’m Dr. Luna. You’ve been unconsciousfor a little while, so it’s understandable if you’re feeling a little bit confused. Do you remember what happened?”
Yeah. I remember perfectly. I’d just managed to sling a stone through a soul reaver’s face like a gray laser beam, destroying it and saving Kalistratos, when the dark shadow man from my dreams came and pulled me into a fucking portal.
“A Miata decided to give me a little love tap,” I mutter.
I want to ask the doctor whether there were any reports of me appearing out of thin air. I want to know what happened to my baby. But I don’t want her to think I’ve suffered brain damage. As clear as my memories are now, there’s still that lingering, nagging thought in the back of my head that maybe I am crazy.
“That’s one way to put it,” she says as she jots something onto the file she has in her hand. “Drunk driver, I’m afraid. The good news is that it was a glancing hit, otherwise you might not be with us.”
“Have I been out for a while?”
“Just a few hours. The bad news is that you’ve broken a couple of ribs, which is why you feel so sore. Fortunately, they’re not displaced, so no need for surgery. We’ll manage the pain and monitor you to make sure no complications arise, but with some rest, you’ll heal up just fine. Looks like you’ve got a story to tell about dodging cars, eh?” She tucks the clipboard under her arm. “Tyler, is there anyone you’d like us to call? We couldn’t find any emergency contact information for you.
Yeah, the Great Phoenix. Someone to transport me back to Kalistratos. Back home.