Chapter 9 Assurance
Maya pov
I stared at the ceiling in the darkness, counting the wooden beams overhead. One, two, three, four, five. My heart wouldn't stop racing. Six, seven, eight. The clock on the nightstand glowed with cruel red numbers: 2:47 AM. In three hours, we'd leave for Silvercrest.
Ryker's breathing was steady from the chair by the window. He'd stayed like he promised, his large frame somehow fitting into that too-small chair. I wanted to wake him, to tell him I couldn't do this, but my throat felt closed up tight. The air in the room seemed to thicken with each breath I tried to take.
My chest grew tighter. Tighter. Like invisible hands were squeezing, squeezing, squeezing until there was no room for air. I sat up slowly, careful not to make noise. My hands trembled as I pushed back the covers. The floor felt cold under my bare feet as I stood.
I needed space. I needed air. I needed to get away from the suffocating weight pressing down on my lungs. The bathroom door opened silently and I slipped inside, closing it behind me with a soft click. The tile was even colder here, shocking against my skin.
My reflection stared back at me from the mirror above the sink. Pale face, wild eyes, chest heaving with shallow breaths that weren't bringing enough oxygen. I gripped the edge of the counter, my knuckles turning white. Breathe, I told myself. Just breathe.
But I couldn't. The air wouldn't go in. My lungs felt like they were shrinking, collapsing, refusing to work. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. I bent over the sink, trying to force air past the tightness in my throat. A small whimper escaped—I couldn't help it.
The world tilted sideways. My legs wobbled and I slid down to the bathroom floor, my back against the cabinet. I pulled my knees to my chest and tried to make myself small, invisible, safe. But safety didn't exist. In three hours, I'd be back in that place. Back where Marcus could reach me.
My breath came in sharp gasps now, fast and useless. In-in-in-in, no out. Just in, in, in until my head spun and my fingers went numb. I pressed my palms against the cold tile, trying to ground myself, but the floor seemed to tilt and sway.
The door opened. Ryker stood there, his hair messy from sleep, his eyes alert despite the early hour. He took one look at me crumpled on the floor and moved fast, kneeling beside me. His warm hands cupped my face, gentle but firm, making me look at him.
"Maya, listen to my voice. You're safe. You're here with me, not there." His green eyes locked onto mine. "You're having a panic attack. Your body thinks you're in danger, but you're not. I've got you."
I shook my head frantically. I couldn't speak, couldn't explain that the danger was coming, that in three hours we'd drive straight into the nightmare I'd barely escaped. My chest squeezed tighter and a sob broke through the gasping breaths.
"Look at me. Only at me." Ryker's voice was calm, steady, like an anchor in a storm. "We're going to breathe together. Watch my chest. See how it moves?" He took a slow, exaggerated breath in, his chest expanding. "In for four counts. Watch. One, two, three, four."
I tried to follow but my breath stuttered and caught. Tears streamed down my face, hot against my cold skin. I couldn't do it. I couldn't breathe right, couldn't calm down, couldn't be strong enough for what was coming.
"That's okay. Try again. Just watch me." He breathed in again, slow and controlled. "One, two, three, four. Now hold. One, two. Now out. One, two, three, four, five, six." He repeated the pattern, his hands still cradling my face. "You don't have to match me perfectly. Just try. Even one good breath helps."
I focused on his chest rising and falling, on the warmth of his hands, on the green of his eyes that never looked away from mine. I pulled in air—shaky, uneven, but deeper than before. My lungs accepted it this time.
"Good. That's so good, Maya." He smiled, just a small curve of his lips. "Again. In for four. One, two, three, four."
We breathed together in the quiet bathroom, my gasps slowly evening out into something more normal. The black spots faded from my vision. The crushing weight on my chest eased bit by bit. My fingers started to tingle as feeling returned.
"There you go. You're doing it." Ryker shifted to sit beside me on the floor, his back against the cabinet, one arm around my shoulders. "Keep breathing. In and out. Nice and steady."
I leaned into his side, exhausted from the panic. My whole body felt like I'd run for miles. "I can't go back there," I whispered, my voice hoarse. "I thought I could, but I can't. I'll die if I go back."
"You won't die. I won't let that happen." His arm tightened around me. "But I need you to learn something right now. Something that will help when the fear comes back."
"Nothing helps."
"This will. I promise." He gently took my hand, placing it flat against his chest where I could feel his heartbeat. "This is called grounding. When panic starts, you find five things you can see. Name them out loud."
I looked around the bathroom through blurry eyes. "Sink. Towel. Tile. Your shirt. The door."
"Perfect. Now four things you can touch." He guided my free hand to the cool tile floor. "Feel the texture. Focus on it."
"Tile. It's smooth and cold." I touched the fabric of his shirt. "Your shirt. It's soft." I pressed my palm harder against his chest. "Your heartbeat. It's steady." I ran my fingers through my own hair. "My hair. It's tangled."
"Excellent. Three things you can hear."
I closed my eyes and listened. "Your breathing. The water in the pipes. The clock ticking in the bedroom."
"Two things you can smell."
I breathed in carefully. "Your soap. It smells like cedar. And... mint. From the toothpaste."
"Last one. One thing you can taste."
"Salt. From crying."
Ryker squeezed my shoulder. "How do you feel now?"
I took inventory of my body. My heart still beat fast, but not the wild, terrified pace from before. My breathing was mostly normal. The crushing panic had faded to a dull anxiety. "Better. Not good, but better."
"That's all we need right now. Better is enough." He looked down at me, his expression serious. "When we get to Silvercrest and you feel panic starting, you do this exercise. You ground yourself in the present moment. It reminds your body that you're safe right now, even if you're scared about what might happen."
"What if it doesn't work when Marcus is right there?"
"Then you find me. You look at me and we'll breathe together like we just did." His jaw tightened. "He won't touch you, Maya. I'll be between you and him every single second."
A soft knock came at the bathroom door. "It's Zara," a female voice called quietly. "Ryker texted me. I brought something that might help."
Ryker stood and helped me up. My legs felt shaky but held. He opened the door to reveal Zara, the pack doctor, holding a small medical bag. Her dark hair was pulled back in a braid and she wore soft clothes like she'd dressed quickly.
"Hi, Maya." Her smile was kind, not pitying. "Panic attacks are terrible. I get them sometimes too. May I come in?"