Chapter 61: Hard as a Rock

*Zariah*

My bed feels as hard as concrete.

Beneath my head, which hurts like a son of a b*tch, it feels like my pillow is made out of stone. I haven’t even opened my eyes yet because I’m so uncomfortable.

I attempt to raise a hand to rub my aching head, but I can’t. I can’t lift one hand without lifting the other.

Something is very wrong.

Squinting against the splitting headache that is completely encompassing me, I try to figure out what the hell is going on. I can’t even open my eyes all the way because of the searing pain, even though it’s not bright in my bedroom.

But I’m not in my bedroom.

Even in the darkness, my shifter eyes can cut through enough to realize that this is definitely not my room. I’m in some kind of a… shed or garage or something. I can see a bunch of junk leaning against the wall across from me. A bicycle tire, some kind of tools, some lawn equipment. It smells of oil, grease, and damp concrete.

Which is exactly what I’m lying on.