Page 57 of Hot in Witch City
Pride swelled my chest, my mate’s admiration warming me.
Gianna tilted her head. “Why did you leave your pack?”
Bitter memories swirling like dark fog in my brain. “I hated living with them. The Sacco pack is awful.”
She gazed at me for a few seconds before asking, “How so?”
Why had I revealed my past? I hated even thinking about it. But I didn’t want to keep things from Gianna. “We lived in the White Mountains in simple cabins. They dismissed many modern conveniences, choosing to cling to a life I consider backwards. They avoided most others in the region. I wanted to see what else was out there in the world.”
“When did you leave?”
"Fifteen. Almost as soon as I was old enough.”
"Ah, I left when I graduated high school at eighteen.”
I smiled at her. “We have some things in common. Both leaving home as soon as we could to create life on our own terms."
"Exactly. And I'm never turning back." She studied me. “You left at such a young age, though. Was it that bad?”
My muscles tightened, especially the ones in my shoulders. I forced myself to relax them on an exhale. “Since I was a late bloomer, I was picked on being small and scrawny. The older teens said I was worthless to the pack. They harassed me whenever they had the chance.”
“That’s awful, Sebastian.”
A sour taste coated my tongue as I remembered the worst of it. “When I was young, I fell through a frozen pond and almost drowned. It made me incredibly wary of water. They knew my fear and exploited it. They’d drag me into the water and hold me under, laughing as I frantically tried to surface." My ribs seemed to clench around my lungs as that sensation of being unable to breathe return.
Gianna gasped. “They bullied you and made your fears even worse?"
I forced a smile, which likely came out more of a scowl. "I hate water to this day."
She placed her hand on her chest. "Oh, it kills me that they did this to you. Water can be so soothing. I never feel as calm and refreshed as when I'm swimming."
I shook my head with vigor. “Definitely not the case for me. It’s more of a desperation to get out.”
Gianna reached across the table and touched my hand. "I hate what they did to you. You know there are different types of therapy like that to help you to face and conquer your fear."
"I'm not interested. I’d rather just stay away from the water.”
“But what if you need to swim?” She tapped her fingers on the table. “Say something happened, like I don’t know—you fell into a pool or off a boat. Would you be able to swim to safety?”
I stared at the black tabletop. “Probably not.” The worst scenario played in my mind—being trapped underwater, unable to breathe.
"Humor me, Sebastian. Would you come to the pool with me? I generally go swimming three times a week. I’d love to help you break through this fear."
I gripped the edge of my seat. My limbs felt tight and heavy. I grimaced. "I’d hate for you to see me like that." The last thing I wanted to do was look like a fool in front of her.
"Like what?”
“Afraid.”
“No, brave,” she declared. “You’d be facing your fear. Everyone has them. Not everyone is courageous enough to take them on.”
I searched her eyes, more violet today than blue. "What are you afraid of, Gianna?”
She turned away and took a sip of her drink while glancing around the club. Then she put her drink down. "Being controlled.”
That wasn’t what I was expecting. I grinned at her. “I thought you might say one of the common fears, like snakes or spiders or heights.”
“No, those don’t bother me at all.” She ran her hands down the stem of her champagne glass. “My father was super strict and overbearing. We clashed often. He was so concerned that I'd end up like my mother and maybe live some kind of wanton lifestyle." She snorted. "I sure lived up to his expectations, didn't I?"
