Unedited.

This is the final chapter of the book. (It's done . . . what?!) This is the second book I've completed and I didn't think I'd even finish one of them!

lokie66 I want to dedicate this to you because you were voting for the story when I started this nearly a year ago and you're still doing it. You can't know how much it means. P.S Get better and heal :)           

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 Her head was pounding, as if someone was smashing something against her skull. That was the first thing Rebecca realised. Sluggishly she tried to open her eyes, but found they wouldn't do what she wanted — it was like someone had glued them shut.

She could breathe, that was for sure. There was nothing that was restricted her from breathing. Rebecca tried to move, but found her limbs were unresponsive.

Déjà vu — that's what this was. And, frankly, the phrase was the last thing she wanted to think. She was sick of it. A hospital, this was what this was. There wasn't another option. The only time she ever felt weighed down to a bed, without anything keeping her there was when she was on a hospital bed.

"Don't move, you need to rest."

The voice was far off, slightly morphed. Rebecca didn't recognise whoever was speaking and that was more than a little worrying.

The last thing she remembered was being in the forest. Mikael attacking. Adam turning up. Then blacking out. Had Mikael won? Did they have her?

It was through sheer will — and fear — that Rebecca opened her eyes. They felt sluggish and she was blinded by the light instantly. Hurriedly, she shut them again.

"Don't move. Please."

Rebecca jumped, the voice closer now. Regaining her bearings she squinted, trying to fake sleep. If they were the enemy she didn't need them to know she was awake. In the end it proved to be a futile effort. She could make out her own body — covered over with a blanket — and little else.

"Rebecca."

The voice was vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place it. Whether or not that was good or bad news, she wasn't sure. She hoped it wasn't the latter. Because they knew her name.

"Rebecca. You're safe, you're okay."

That was exactly what someone would say if they were trying to convince her she was safe. Under the blanket, Rebecca moved her foot. There was nothing restricting her movement so they clearly hadn't trapped her.

"Salvatée."

That was a voice she knew. No one else called her that, because there was only one person she'd resurrected accidentally. She gave up on her guise, whispering, "Adam," so faintly she barely heard herself.

When a hand made contact with her shoulder, she flinched instinctively. Her eyes snapped and with wide, panicked eyes, she looked at the hand touching her. It was soft, feminine and heavily scarred along the index finger. Slowly, Rebecca followed the hand until she saw an arm. Then it was a white uniform, and an elderly, haggard face.

Rebecca flinched away, breath leaving her unsteadily. "What-what's happening?" Her voice shook. "Where am I?"

The elderly woman looked panicked, stricken even. She stared at Rebecca as if she was something otherworldly and strange. "Ex-excuse me?"

Rebecca blinked. There was no way this woman was her kidnapper. She looked so doe-eyed and . . . confused. Genuinely bewildered by Rebecca. "Where am I?" she repeated, voice stronger. "I want out."

The woman frowned and Rebecca watched her hands move to hang at her side. "Out? Reginae, you're in hospital."

Reginae? That was a word she was unfamiliar with. And she wasn't sure she wanted to know what it meant. "Why?" she whispered, hand lifting. When there was no resistance she brought it to her face. She felt no bandages, no broken bones, and no blood. She pointedly ignored the fact that she could feel an IV drip in her arm, knowing if she looked she'd begin to feel lightheaded.

The woman shook her head, seeming distressed for some reason. "I'm not aware, Reginae."

Rebecca let her eyes wonder around her. There was no machine beeping behind her. The room seemed empty, just white, sterile walls. In the corner of her eye, she could make out to imprint of people, but lying down as she was she couldn't make out who they were. "Do you know anyone that is?"

Her response clearly drove the woman into a further panic. Her eyes widened and looked around owlishly, as if she was trying to implore someone to save her. "Reginae, I don't—"

Rebecca sighed, before placing her hands palm down on the bed. Her attempt at sitting upright was failed. For one, her arms were too weak, feeling as if they were jelly. And two, the woman placed a hand on her shoulders to push her back, with a warning to do nothing strenuous.

"Marielle, go and relax. I've got this."

The voice that spoke was the same one from before, the one that had been familiar, yet just out of reach. Rebecca tried to sit up to see who it was, but something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye.

Slowly, she turned her head, heart racing, before stifling a scream. To the left of her, there was a person standing over her. Staring at her. Rebecca's panicked mind refused to acknowledge who it was, shock overriding any rationality. She edged away from the figure.

"Salvatée."

That was Adam but where was he? "Adam?" Rebecca said aloud.

"To your left," Adam said.

Rebecca looked to the left. And, abruptly felt like an idiot because Adam was the person next to her bed. Since no one else was privy to her awkwardness, she said nothing but she did stare at him. He looked the same as always, dark clothing and a blank expression on his face.

Something about seeing him now was unsettling however. He was the drug addict who'd cornered her just to insult her mother and at another time stabbed her in a dream . . . yet, she felt safer knowing he was there. Which was completely insane.

"Where am I?" she asked, looking at him.

He frowned. "You're safe, Salvatée."

That wasn't what she'd asked. Nevertheless, Rebecca hid her frustration as best as she could. "Where am I?" she repeated.

"You're—"

"You're home."

Rebecca jumped, eyes swerving to the source of the voice. Jack — Ferro — stood there at the end of her hospital bed. He was no longer the person that had eaten dinner at her dining table, but the scarier, deadlier, older figure with salt-and-pepper hair. The disguise was gone. "Home?" she whispered, frowning.

She saw him nod, expression solemn. "Yes, you're home."

Again, Rebecca tried to sit up, but the female nurse pushed her back down. "Where's my parents?" she asked. She'd give anything to be wrapped up in their arms again; be away from people trying to kill her.

"Your parents . . . Rebecca the queen is gone, you know that."

The queen is gone. The words echoed in her confused mind. The tangled web of misperception that was currently her mind couldn't make sense of them. "Where are my parents?" she repeated, voice taking on edge she wanted to remove. "You said I was home."

"You are home, Rebecca."

Rebecca sighed in frustration. "I'm clearly not, if my parents aren't here."

"Rebecca—"

The elderly nurse beside Rebecca snapped, "Sir, step back. You are making her stressed. She needs to rest." Then, with a much softer voice (bordering on deferential), the woman said to Rebecca, "Reginae, I can send him out if you want."

Rapidly, Rebecca shook her head. Sending him out wasn't an option — he was the only one that knew anything and could give her the answers she needed.

"Marielle, do your tests and hurry," Jack — Ferro — cut in, voice hard. "The princess has been through enough."

Rebecca shut her eyes, breathing deeply. Her initial panic had almost receded completely by now, because the possibility of this being a prison cell was almost improbable. "Where am I?" she whispered, voice frustrated. "And will someone help me sit up?"

Even as she heard the nurse snap, "You should be lying down," hands, which she recognised as Adam's, slid under her back. Slowly, he helped her sit upright. The sheet fell down to her waist, exposing the hospital gown covering her body.

"Where am I?" she whispered again, finally able to get a clear view of the hospital room.

Compared to the other ones she'd been in before, this was a giant step forward. The closed door looked as if it was made of steel. There was even what looked like a scanner on Rebecca's side. Clearly the security was serious.

The walls were white, nothing out of the ordinary, but the room itself was completely different. The whole room was made up of Rebecca's hospital bed. The room was huge, the bed larger than a double. There was a door off to the side and inside it Rebecca could see a gigantic ensuite.

Ferro, Adam and the nurse filled the space, along with two men standing right by the steel door — as if they were trapping her in. At the sight of them, Rebecca raised her eyebrows, doubt sinking in. The men looked exactly like Mikael's soldiers — silent, brooding and deadly.

With clammy palms, Rebecca stared at them, trying not give away the sudden fear that struck. "Ferro," she whispered, the word strange on her tongue. Rebecca said nothing more, but she pointedly stared at the men standing by the door.

He looked behind him, before turning back to face Rebecca. There was no panic in his eyes. He didn't even seem bothered by their presence. "They're not the enemy," he said. "They're one of the many guards stationed to this hospital wing."

Adam scoffed. "Like I'd let anything happen to her."

His words came as more than a little surprising to Rebecca. But, in retrospect, they shouldn't have. He was her Inservié, because she'd resurrected to him. According to the book she'd read, he was loyal to her and would protect her at all costs.

She hadn't seen the proof up until now. Although, he'd turned up when Mikael had tried to grab her, so it had happened before. At the time, she'd been too fearful to realise.

In response, Ferro narrowed his eyes. "Did I ask you?"

Rebecca watched with morbid fascination and curiosity, as Adam stood straighter, moving as close as he could to her. "Do I care?"

That was something that was completely new to Rebecca. No one was jumping at the chance to protect her and they certainly didn't fight over the opportunity to do it. Rebecca cleared her throat and they both looked over at her. "Where am I?" she repeated.

Ferro blinked. "The Light Fae."

Rebecca stared at him, eyes wide. "The Light F— what?"

He shook his head, eyes moving back to Adam. "We can discuss it later. Rebecca, how did he get here?"

"Is that important?" asked Rebecca distractedly, mind whirring at the possibilities of how she'd gotten here.

He stared at her, eyes narrowed. "You have an Inservié, Rebecca."

"You're not my dad," Rebecca snapped, aware of the awkwardness that had settled over the room. Despite that, she blurted what he wanted to hear. "Fine. I killed him and then Mikael tricked me into resurrecting him. Now he follows me around."

"To protect you, Salvatée," Adam cut in, sounding partially offended.

"Protect me. Follow," Rebecca muttered. "Bottom line, it was just another thing Mikael did because I was the idiot that followed him around like a lost puppy." She felt the irrational urge to cry, and she blinked rapidly. She'd taken to blaming herself because she deserved it.

Ferro frowned. "The General . . ."

Rebecca shook her head. "Forget I said that." Because she was going to try to forget it. "How did I get here?"

The nurse — whose presence Rebecca had completely forgotten about — tapped her arm. "Reginae, please lie back down. Your body cannot handle the strain."

Rebecca completely ignored her, staring straight at Ferro. She'd (begrudgingly) given him the answers he'd wanted, so now it was his turn. "How'd I get here?" Embarrassingly, her voice just shy of desperate.

He sighed, before walking closer. "Rebecca, you'll want lie down for this. Marielle is right. After what you did, you have to rest."

"What I did?" As she spoke, Rebecca moved so she was laying down.

"How much do you remember?" Ferro asked.

Rebecca stared at the ceiling, recollecting back on everything. "You turned up. We walked. I switched bodies with Mikael. Then Mikael turned up. Mikael cornered us. I was having a panic attack. Something distracted them — Adam did. I ran. Then everything went dark . . . and I woke up here."

"You don't remember doing it?"

"Doing what?"

Ferro stared at her, expression grave. His voice was much the same when he spoke. "Rebecca, when you blacked out, you brought us back here. The Dark Fae Realm . . . you destroyed it. There is no realm anymore. It's gone."

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Fin.