Page 95 of Gift from the Tree

I don’t answer him out loud, but he laughs when I shift myself around on his lap, staring intently as Corentin walks over, handing us a drink before he sits in his chair, taking a long swig, and leaning his head back.

“Long day, boss man?” Draken asks.

“Yes. Two interviews for the combat position today were a bust, highly recommended idiots who only care about producing people into weapons rather than teaching them how to protect themselves. I got a call from my mother. Then typical headmaster shit. Tillman and the teams have gone radio silent, preparing to infiltrate in the morning, and I hate not knowing what’s going on.”

I can’t believe Corentin’s venting like this. I’m too afraid to speak in case he forgot I’m here and is just opening up to Draken.

“Aww, what did Momma Vito want? And don’t worry about the guys. They’re going to be fine. They always are,” Draken says.

“She wants us to visit.” Corentin sighs.

“And asked if any of you had a special lady,” I add sarcastically, feeling put out that he didn’t mention that part.

“Were you eavesdropping on his conversation, little wanderer?” Draken snorts.

“I didn’t mean to. I was heading to his office, and he had the door cracked. I didn’t want to interrupt while he was talking.”

Draken knows me better, though, and laughs at my obvious nosiness. I can’t help it. I’ve always had trouble with asking too many questions and listening in on conversations I had no business listening to.

“Let’s have dinner up here instead of the dining room. Since it’s just us, we won’t need our typical feast,” Corentin suggests, changing the subject.

We sit and enjoy our dinner in the lounge, Draken manning the conversation for us, telling all kinds of embarrassing stories of the guys from when they were teenagers. Getting in trouble with Corentin and Caspian’s parents, Gaster bailing them out more times than he could count. All in all, it’s been a good night, but as it progresses, I can’t shake this awful feeling in the pit of my chest.

Hopefully, a good night’s sleep is all I need, and I’m just letting my worries get the better of me. I excuse myself and leave the guys there to hang out and finish their drinks while I take a quick shower and go to bed, dreaming of haunted whiskey eyes and angry, wild green ones.

Twenty-One

Willow

“Gaster, is there a way to make a coffee that helps with anxiety?” I ask, rubbing my eyes. I slept like shit. Even with Draken crawling in my bed, it did nothing to calm my nerves and give me a good night’s rest.

“I could whip up something sweet enough for you. What’s the matter?” he asks from where he’s standing at his office stove.

“I don’t know. I’ve had this awful feeling in my chest since last night. It won’t go away. It feels like it’s crushing my lungs,” I tell him honestly, rubbing my chest like I can rub this nagging away.

“Are you worried about Tillman and Caspian?” he asks, handing me my coffee and holding a cup of tea for himself.

“I think that’s what started it, yes, but everyone has been reassuring me they’d be fine, that they’ve done this a thousand times.”

Taking my first sip, the warmth spreads throughout my body, but the tension in my chest only lightens slightly. Its refusal to give me some reprieve is making it harder and harder to breathe.

“Well, it’s almost lunch. Corentin and Draken are already at the training fields in case they show up early, and Oakly will be here in just a few moments. If it’ll help, we can go on over to the training fields as well,” he reasons, but the look on his face isn’t helping. He looks concerned not only for me but about what I just told him.

“Yeah, that may help. God, it feels like I’m going to have a heart attack,” I tell him, rubbing my chest furiously. The pain etches its way up my throat.

Usually when I’m on the verge of a panic attack, I get sucked into my mind, thrown into nightmares of what’s been done to me, but this is different. This is an awful, gut-wrenching feeling that I can’t shake. It’s all I can feel, all I can think about.

“Why are you about to have a heart attack?” Oakly walks in, grinning at my dramatics until she looks at me. “Willow, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. I can’t shake this feeling. Something’s wrong, bad wrong. Gaster, can we go?” I ask panicking, standing, and grabbing my satchel.

“Maybe we should sit and finish our drinks. It may help you—”

“No. NO. I can’t. I have to go. I’ll be at the training field transport zone.” I transport myself from Gaster’s office, despite my hate for doing it, but I have to get to the guys. Whatever this feeling is, I somehow know it has to do with them.

Hopefully, Gaster and Oakly follow behind, but I can’t wait. I’m not in control. Whatever this feeling in my chest is, it’s in control.

Stepping out of the transport, I’m only about six feet away from Draken and Corentin. Draken shoots me a huge smile as soon as he sees me until he notices my pale face and the panic contorting across my features.

---