Page 62 of Pack Nightmare

“Actually, he can,” a deep voice I haven’t heard in nearly two months reaches my ears. “As a member of the Harridan line, I’d say I’m uniquely placed to invite whomever I choose into our pack territory.”

A gasp goes up among the crowd as they realize my uncle Dom has just appeared among us, after disappearing the night I manifested.

Azalea snorts. “Harridan or not, you’re not the alpha, so you hold no power. I only need the girl.”

“Well, I’m afraid you can’t take her,” Dom replies forcefully.

“Watch me,” the witch snarls. With a flick of her hand, the pressure resumes on my back, forcing me forward. I stumble, trying to remain on my feet for fear of what would happen if I fell.

Suddenly, a swell of wind erupts around me, creating a cyclone that stings my eyes and forces them closed. I feel pushed and buffeted inside a narrow column that I can’t escape, and the pressure on my throat increases, cutting my air supply off completely. I flail around helplessly, trying to escape a jail that’s nothing but air as the darkness closes in around the edge of my vision.

Tears leak from my eyes, drying immediately in the gale force winds that bind me. As it typically is, the whole day was too good to be true. Cinderella’s ball ended at midnight, and it looks like mine is over before it even begins.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Layla

Just as I give up on ever drawing another breath, the pressure on my throat stops immediately, and my own personal hurricane disappears, leaving me struggling for air on my knees. I try and fail multiple times to draw in a full breath, achieving only thin, painful pulls of air accompanied by a horrifying croak emitting from my throat.

Many warm hands stroke my arms, my back; patting, rubbing circles.

“Come on, Lily, breathe!” Milo’s voice is desperate.

My lungs feel like deflated balloons I don’t have the power to fill.

“Gorgeous, you can do this!” Jared encourages, at the same time that Landon pleads, “Please, Layla!”

Instead of trying to fill my lungs, I settle for pulling in small sips of air, gradually drawing larger breaths as my fated huddle around, encouraging me. I’m desperate to know what’s going on with Derrek and Azalea, my uncle, and Peter’s rogue faction, but I need to get oxygen to my brain before I can process anything.

I don’t know how long it takes; I know my fated are here, encouraging and protecting me, as I slowly draw in more and more air, and my heart gradually slows when I’m finally, painfully, able to pull in a full breath. My lungs seem better, but my throat still feels like a crumpled paper cup. My eyes open, and I stare at the ground, afraid to move my neck.

I try to speak but only manage to make a sound like a creaky door. Wincing, I try again, and force out the words, “Help… up… water,” in a whispery approximation of my voice.

I hear a set of feet take off in the building's direction, and warm hands grasp my arms and lace between my fingers on each hand. The deep, comforting reverberations of Jared and Milo run through my body, one on each side. They lift me gently until I’m on my feet, and I turn my head carefully, testing for injury. Attempting to swallow, I realize there’s what feels like a lump the size of a baseball preventing it. I reach a hand up to touch it, and feel nothing abnormal besides extremely hot skin.

“It’ll heal, gorgeous, and quickly. You just need to give it some time. Landon went to get you some water. Are you okay otherwise?” Jared’s dark eyes are filled with concern, his thick fingers gripping my hand tightly.

I nod carefully, then look around, shocked to discover we’re alone. Tipping my head to the empty lot, I croak out, “where…?”

“Where is everyone?” Milo surmises. I nod again. “Derrek whipped up that tornado that cut off Azalea’s hold on your throat. The second she realized she wasn’t the only witch on the block, she took off running into the trees, and Derrek chased her. The rest of the pack surged on Jean-Yves and his cronies, and they ran off down the street. They all followed them… I’m guessing they won’t get far.”

A door opens and rapid footsteps approach. “Here,” Landon is panting slightly, his voice breathy. He appears in my field of vision with a frosty water bottle, cracking the top and holding it out for me to drink.

“Take it easy, gorgeous,” Jared cautions. “Just a little sip to make sure you don’t choke. We don’t know what damage she did to you.”

The water is soothing on my tongue, and despite my desperate desire to chug it I follow Jared’s advice, taking only a tiny sip before attempting to swallow.

I sputter, coughing, but a small trickle makes it past the lump. Jared pats me on the back and I gesture for more, which Landon obligingly holds up.

It takes a few more minutes, but I’m finally able to swallow down a few mouthfuls of water, and while painful, my throat feels as though it’s functioning normally.

“Derrek?” my voice is a stronger croak now, more like a bullfrog than a squeaky door.

The guys exchange a glance. Milo begins, “Derrek…”

“Is right here, Lex.” The man himself steps out of the shady clump of trees. “I’m sorry. I chased her as long as I could, but I didn’t catch her. She had a car waiting at the edge of your pack territory.”

I close my eyes and nod, swallowing painfully.

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