Page 20 of Fanged Embrace
My own heart hammered in my ears.
Calm, I told myself.You gotta stay calm for her sake. I wasn’t going to reveal just how well I could sense her panic. That was a truth she wasn’t ready for. So instead, I kept my voice low, encouraging her to inhale, exhale, to slow her racing pulse.
I reached out with my mind, plunging invisible fingers into the swirling cloud that surrounded her. I rooted around in that darkness, searching for her in the storm, gripping her tight. She didn’t know what I was doing, thank the stars, or she probably would have recoiled further. But physically, I kept still, leaning only a fraction closer, letting one palm rest on the bench between us.
I could taste her panic in the back of my throat, tangy and metallic. Laurie twitched, her mouth opening on a choked sound. A strangled whimper slid from her lips. My heart lurched, but I held steady, soothing that roiling storm without saying a word.
This was the true difference between my power and Hunter’s.
Hunter imposed her will. I offered mine. And if Laurie would only let me, I could guide her out of the dark.
10
Laurie
It started with a wave of heat rushing behind my eyes, then a cold sweat that clung to my skin. I should have known this would happen. I should have expected it.
My vision swam, and the distant chatter of people in the park was swallowed by the dull roar in my ears. I was sinking, drowning in my own panic, and no matter how much I gasped for air, I just couldn’t get enough.
I vaguely registered River’s voice, calm and steady in my ear. She was trying to anchor me, murmuring gentle instructions. “Laurie… Can you hear me? You need to breathe.” But her words slurred around the pounding in my head.
“Is she okay?” someone asked, and their voice sounded very far away, like I was listening from a distance.
I began to rock on the bench—back and forth, back and forth. My head was filled with air, drifting from my body, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I heard a shaking sob through the rushing in my ears and realized it came from me.
“Yeah.” River’s voice, curt and clipped. “We can handle this, thanks.”
The world was spinning, and a well-meaning stranger was hovering beside us. I could vaguely make out the shape of them, but the details wouldn’t come into focus. They were talking to River over my head and I wanted to curl very small and scream for them both to shut up.
But River was one step ahead of me. “No, we’re fine. Can you back up, please—just give her some room.” Somehow, she delivered it in a way that sounded polite, and some distant part of my brain wondered how she managed it.
I was on the brink of explosion. Always. ‘Polite’ was not part of my repertoire.
Eventually, the stranger drifted off, leaving me tense on a bench, trying not to hyperventilate. River crouched beside me, a hand hovering near my own but never quite touching—and yet, somehow, I felt her presence all around me. She lay like a warm coat over my shoulders.
I swallowed a knot of panic, forcing air into my lungs.Try. Breathe.My mind was a storm, the world around me fragmenting as distant memories resurfaced. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the usual spiral into chaos.
But something was… different. A soft, almost intangible thread of calm unraveling the tight coil in my chest. It felt surreal, like a gentle nudge in the back of my head, a lantern illuminating a path through the dark.
I found myself leaning into that sensation, letting it guide me out of my frantic disorientation. Slowly, painfully, the sharp spike of panic and bitter memories retreated back to the darker corners of my mind. My lungs filled more evenly; the sickening wave of dizziness subsided. I gulped air and clutched the bench until my knuckles blanched.
When the worst of it passed, I realized my cheeks were damp.
A flush of shame followed. I felt exposed, raw, and incredibly small. Whatever bravado I’d had going into this meeting was gone. Now River could see me for what I was, if she hadn’t put the pieces together already.
I couldn’t help her. I couldn’t even help myself. I was weak, and useless, and unhinged and?—
“You did good.” River’s voice interrupted my spiraling and I snapped my eyes up to hers. She was smiling. It was a weak and weary curl of her lip, but she was smiling. “Feeling a little better?”
I nodded in stiff humiliation. “I’m fine.” I rasped the words out.
My throat felt dry, scorched like I’d been screaming. I was suddenly very, very tired. Exhaustion claimed my leaden limbs and it took everything in me to stay upright.
I had to get out of there.
“I should go—” I tried to rise from the bench. Failed. Tried again. “God dammit–”
When I stumbled, River caught my arm. Usually I would have pulled away, but her touch was light and my knees were buckling. So when she rose to her feet, I leaned into her.
