Daxon? Right beside me?
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My heart feels like it stops completely. The world around me seems to tilt, and for a moment, I can’t think straight. How did he find me?
I thought I was safe down here, hidden away from everything that haunts me. But somehow, he’s followed me. He always finds me, doesn’t
he? No matter how far I run, no matter how well I hide, Daxon always finds me.
My hands start trembling first, then my whole body follows. The familiar taste of copper fills my mouth as I bite down on my tongue to
keep from screaming.
The crowded marketplace that had felt so warm and welcoming just moments ago now feels like a trap, with too many people, too many
sounds, too many places for him to hide.
“Athena?”
Tristan’s voice cuts through my panic, but it sounds like it’s coming from underwater. I can barely hear him over the roaring in my ears, over the sound of my own heartbeat thundering so loud I’m sure everyone can hear it.
He keeps calling my name, getting louder each time, more worried, but I can’t focus on anything except the terror clawing at my chest.
“Athena! Ath!”
Finally, his voice breaks through the fog in my head. I turn toward him, my movements jerky and unnatural, like a marionette with tangled strings. I try to put on a normal expression, try to act like nothing is wrong, but I can feel my face twitching with the effort.
Then I hear it again.
“Daxon.”
This time, the name comes from across the store. A woman’s voice, exasperated and slightly amused. “Daxon, come back here this instant!
You can’t just run off like that!”
I spin around so fast I nearly lose my balance, my wolf instincts screaming at me to run, to hide, to do anything except stand there like
prey waiting to be caught.
My eyes dart frantically through the crowd, searching for that familiar silhouette, those cold eyes that have haunted my nightmares for
months.
There, by the candy aisle, is a little boy, maybe five years old, with dark hair and mischievous eyes. He’s giggling as his mother chases after him, his small sneakers squeaking against the floor.
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Chapter 12
Daxon, I mean I the woman calls again, but she’s smiling now, clearly not angry. The boy. It’s just a little boy named Dazon.
Not him. Not my Daxon. The relief that floods through me is so intense I think I might collapse right there in the middle of the market.
I let out a shaky breath, my knees going weak. I press my hand against my chest, trying to slow my racing heart, whispering to myself
over and over like a mantra, ‘It’s not him. It’s not him. He’s not here, You’re safe. You’re safe,”
But even as I say the words, I don’t believe them. I will never be safe, not really. Daxon has made sure of that.
“Ath.”
Tristan’s voice is gentler now, filled with concern. I can feel his eyes studying my face, probably seeing right through whatever pathetic
mask I’m trying to put on.
He knows me too well, has seen me at my worst too many times. I wait for the questions, for the probing, for him to demand answers I’m
not ready to give.
But instead, he just says, “Can we leave now?”
I nod quickly, not trusting my voice. The simple kindness in his tone, the way he doesn’t push, makes my throat tighten with unshed
tears.
He watches me for a long moment, his dark eyes searching mine, before turning away. I follow behind him on unsteady legs, grateful for his broad shoulders blocking out the world ahead of me.
He keeps glancing back at me as we walk, like he’s afraid I might bolt or collapse or simply disappear. Each time our eyes meet, I try to smile, try to reassure him that I’m fine, but I can see in his expression that he’s not buying it.
Still, he doesn’t say anything, just keeps walking at a pace that accommodates my shaky steps.
The ride home is torture. My hands shake so badly I can barely hold onto him, and every time he leans into a turn, I’m convinced we’re going to crash. My wolf is a mess of anxiety and leftover terror, making it impossible to find any peace.
Safe, I try to tell her. We’re safe now.
But she doesn’t believe me. Neither do I, really.
When we reach the house, I’m exhausted from the constant state of panic. I practically leap off the bike before it’s fully stopped. I need space. I need air. I need to get away from his concerned eyes and worried questions.
I just want to disappear into my room and pretend this whole day never happened. I want to crawl under my blankets and hide until the world makes sense again. But of course, Tristan won’t let me escape that easily.
‘Athena.”
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Chapter 12
His voice is soft but firm, I stop with my hand on the door handle, my whole body tensing. I don’t turn around because I already know
what he wants to ask, and I’m not ready to face the concern In his eyes.
“Are you okay? What happened back there?”
The questions hang in the air between us. I take a deep breath, trying to pull myself together, trying to find the strength to lie
convincingly. I’ve gotten good at lying over the years, good at pretending everything is fine when my world is falling apart.
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I force my face into what I hope looks like a normal expression and turn around with a smile that feels like it might crack my face in half. It’s the same smile I’ve perfected during my time with Daxon, the one that says ‘everything is wonderful‘ even when I’m dying inside.
“Nothing happened. I just thought I saw someone I hadn’t seen in years, but it wasn’t who I thought it was.” The lie rolls off my tongue
easily enough. I’ve had plenty of practice.
“You know how it is when you think you recognize someone from a distance, but then you get closer and realize it’s a complete stranger?”
He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just studies my face with those perceptive eyes of his. I can tell he doesn’t believe me, Tristan has always been able to see through my pretenses, but I’m grateful when he just nods instead of pushing for more details.
“Okay,” he says simply. “But you know you can talk to me, right? About anything?”
The kindness in his voice almost undoes me. I nod quickly and flee to my room before I can break down completely.
Once I’m safely behind my closed door, I collapse onto my bed and let the tremors take over. My whole body shakes as the adrenaline finally wears off, leaving me feeling hollow and exhausted.
I can’t even think about making dinner. Food is the last thing on my mind when my stomach is still churning with anxiety.
1 Comments >
Comments
RVisitor
poor athena…she should confide to someone so as to release the pentup emotions to be
7 days ago
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
