Wolf Bound

Chapter 21: Control

My thoughts were out of control. Bouncing around non-stop. Aggravating the hell out of me. I tried counting my steps as we walked. I'd even thought, counting the cracks in the ground as we walked too, would help. But neither option worked. We were getting closer to the pack hall. Probably just about ten more minutes before we reached the area.

It was the same area in the center of town that I witnessed Vincent's crowning ceremony being held. Amaruq and Lady Teresa were waiting for us to arrive on that stage with a crowd gathered before them. It was all of Calamitous. The thought made me want to hurl. But I swallowed the vile chunks back down my throat.

"Hnngh." I groaned under my breath.

Vincent heard me and shot me a look over his shoulder. I avoided his gaze.

My knees were weak. My arms were jelly. My chest was caving in unbearably; grasping to breathe without choking on the air around me. Shit. I knew it. My anxiety was running wild. I wasn't going to be able to do this.

I slowed in my tracks, glancing back at the house.

Would it be bad if I ran back to his house right now? I could change my mind and leave them to it. Vincent must have seen me contemplating because he broke away from our small group. Mariah, Dimitri, Dylan, and Claudia, continued ahead unnoticing of us. Bennett seemed to have been the only one who saw us stop. So, he waited.

"What are you doing?" Vincent asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

"I can't do this. . ." I choked out. "I feel like. I just. It's. . . I can't. I don't know. Maybe."

"Genesis, I don't understand anything you're saying right now"—Vincent gripped my shoulders and leaned in closer—"but you need to take deep breaths and take a second to relax."

I nodded and followed his instructions, inhaling every few seconds.

He nodded with me, then spoke slowly, "Okay. Now can you talk to me properly?"

"I suffer from anxiety," I mumbled.

"Hmm, you do, huh?" He rubbed the bottom of his chin, lifting himself back up. "Alright, try thinking of it this way then. Right now, this isn't you in control. You're letting your anxiety control you. You've got to learn to control it. Not the other way around."

"What if I can't?" I panicked. "My anxiety has been controlling me all my life!"

He shook his head. "You can. That advice isn't just for shifting, you know."

"Can I hold your hand?" I blurted.

Vincent's movements came to an abrupt stop. "What?" His eyes went wide. He blinked at me, taken aback, as if he'd misheard me. Unbeknownst to him, he didn't.

"Uh. . ." I couldn't even pinpoint where that courage came from. To ask that sort of question, to him of all people, was bizarre. Holding things that I could squeeze calmed my nerves. Right now, Vincent's hand was the closest to me. And it looked very squeezable. That's right. I could blame it on my thoughts. They were hounding me. It was a believable excuse.

I knew what his answer would have been anyways. He hadn't been too keen on holding my hand when we met my mom. He was awkward and weird about it. He wasn't used to it. I knew that. So, there was no point.

"Um, nothing. I said nothing," I retracted my statement in one breath, "I can't calm my nerves. I feel like I'm going to freak the hell out. I need something to hold and squeeze." Vincent searched my face.

He hesitated when he opened his mouth. "Okay, you can—"

"You can use my hand if you'd like," Bennett interjected.