Page 5 of Gift from the Source
Stop, stop, stop.
I mentally command my body repeatedly, to no avail.
The faster my feet move through the forest, the quicker my heart rate spikes and my anxiety takes hold.
I shove it down as far as I can, reminding myself one of my tormentors is dead, fallen by my own hand. The other is back in the realm where I belong, awaiting his death for when I find him.
Nothing here can hurt me anymore.
My heart screams for a second to come to terms with what’s about to happen as the end of the forest quickly approaches.
“Sever the connection, Oakly. How do we sever it?”
“Why do you—shit.”Her eyes grow round when she looks at my panic-stricken face.“Imagine yourself cutting the string. Just like you do when you pull us from your mind. Cut it.”
I picture the realm’s largest pair of scissors, then I mentally slice the line pulling me back to that hellhole. The instant snap sends us both crashing into the foliage, landing hard on our hands and knees.
My breaths come out in ragged, tearing gasps, each one more painful than the last. I squeeze my eyes shut and my fingers claw into the earth beneath me. They grip so tight, my bones might snap. The grittiness of the soil bites into my skin, grounding me as the panic surges, wild and overwhelming.
Another harsh breath falls from my lips as gentle hands brush against my trembling body. It’s the soft touch of my men trying to calm me, but I barely process it. The tremor running through me is stronger. It claws at my chest and threatens to swallow me whole.
I hear my name through the roaring in my ears—both the cherished pet names and my real one. It filters through the chaos, a whisper amongst the storm brewing inside of me.
Come on, Willow, you can do it. Pull yourself out.
“Filia mea. You can do this.”
My heart thuds wildly at the sound of CC’s voice, but the soft undertone of his words has the panicked beat regulating and the swaying in my mind settling. I raise my hand, stopping my men from lifting me and wrapping me in their comfort when their grips grow tighter around my body.
I can’t let them do it for me.
The panic flooding my veins is an old companion. One I’ve shared moments with far too many times. I don’t know anymore if it’s a friend or foe—whether it’s trying to warn me or destroy me.
All I know is that it’s here again, in full force, and I’m on the edge of letting itconsume me.
My entire life, I’ve avoided this fear. It’s a sickening dread that’s haunted me since I was a child. But there’s no escaping it today. It looms ahead, waiting, and I have no choice but to face it.
I’ve been sent back to where it all started for a reason.
I have to face the place that tried to break me…and make sure it never has that power over me again. I’ve survived it countless times before.
I can do it one last time.
I’ll do more than survive this.
My arms and legs want to give out on me as I push myself to stand, but I shake my head out and breathe out through my mouth. My eyes attempt to refuse my command to open, but I force my will through the last remaining line of panic.
I glare at the back lawn before me. The trees still pose the smallest amount of coverage and the spot that I stand in, the angle of the estate, is so familiar my heart swells with love rather than despair.
Twenty years ago, I stood in this spot with CC for the first time.
He told me then, this isn’t my home.
To the left, I look past the long stretch of grass at the small barrier of trees that separates this estate from the next. I was moved from this prison to the one next door.
Thinking back, I don’t know how it wasn’t obvious to me that it should’ve been impossible for an estate as grand as that one to be built so quickly. I guess when your mind is in survival mode, the new rich snob next door is the least of your concerns.
Nonetheless, when I got moved over there a month after my eighteenth birthday, I still found my way right to my home hidden amongst the forest.
