PPOV
Waking for the second time today, I slowly opened my eyes and, at first, was disoriented as to where I was. Reaching with my right hand to rub my face, I felt the pain course through my thumb and wrist. Pulling my hand down quickly, I curled it into my chest and bit my lip to stifle the painful whimper that escaped.
As reality set in, I let out a soft sob. My earlier fears of Emmett's demise began to resurface, and I tried to reason with myself. If he was dead, surely I'd know it, sense it somehow. My bond with him was strong. It was strong enough to propel me to him after he and the Cullens left Forks for Seattle. Surely, if he was dead, I'd sense it. It was like I could feel him inside me, not like I could with the pack, but somehow I just knew he had to be alive. I'd know if he wasn't.
Glancing around the room, I noticed that it wasn't as bright as it had been earlier. Gasping, I twisted my head around to look out the window. The sun was starting to set. Sam and the rest of the pack would be here anytime to take me to The Council.
With renewed determination to escape and find my mate, smiling slightly at Emmett's term for us, I reached to the shackle that held my left wrist. My right thumb was throbbing, but I had to ignore it for now. There would be time to reset it later. Fumbling with the cuff, I was having difficulty getting the clasp to release.
After what seemed like an eternity, I released my left wrist. Taking a moment to examine my right thumb, I decided that I would need to set it before continuing on. It was virtually useless as it was, and I needed to have both hands free to escape. After releasing my restraints and jumping out of the window, I would try to phase, so that I could heal myself and be able to run faster through the woods.
Grabbing my right thumb with my left hand, I pulled it away from my wrist and hoped that I was doing it the right way. Not sure how it was supposed to feel, the wave of nausea hit me like a ton of bricks when my thumb popped back into the socket. The shock of the intense pain was so surprising to me that I yelped before I could stop myself. Slinging my head backwards into the pillow and gritting my teeth against any more outbursts, I cradled my injured thumb with my left hand as the tears streamed down my face.
As I started to get my breathing under control, I focused my swirling thoughts enough to remember that I needed to release my ankles and leave this hell hole. Before I could move, I heard the door creak open and knew it was too late.
