38
Lawrence
I opened my eyes to an unfamiliar white plaster ceiling in a room with gray stone walls that spoke of long-ago human construction. Not Fae, thank gods. Bright morning light trickled through the diamond-paned window.
My body—still in human form—felt like I'd been worked over with a mallet, but at least I could draw a deep breath. Then, as when I'd wake from a deep sleep, my hearing returned, and I could make out the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor. I tried to rub my nose and found an oxygen tube, which explained the tickle on my upper lip and the cold in my nostrils. There was another tube as well, which I could feel in the back of my throat. A feeding tube? How long had I been out?
Although it took effort, I turned my head from side to side and found I lay in a hospital
