Terrified of him

Terrified of him
A wave of emotions hit me all at once, crashing down like a tidal wave that I wasn’t prepared for, and I began spiraling into full-blown panic mode. My breathing turned shallow and erratic, coming in broken gasps as if the very air had turned thick and heavy in my lungs. My knees threatened to give out beneath me, trembling uncontrollably, and my vision blurred with the onset of tears and dizziness. I almost let myself collapse entirely onto the cold floor until I turned a sharp corner and caught sight of Winston, standing rigid like a statue in front of a thick, sealed door. He was most likely stationed there to keep me from entering, to block me from getting through whatever lay beyond. But the door wasn’t what I was after. It never was.

My eyes locked on him, and for a split second, I hesitated. One split second to think, then I lunged.

I threw myself at him, shifting into my human form mid-air with a desperate burst of energy, skin rippling and bones reshaping with sickening cracks. We both stumbled backward under the force of impact, his arms instinctively catching me like a lifeline as I collided with his chest. He held me so tightly that it felt like my insides were shifting, being pressed and molded around his grip like I was being held together just by him.

It was only then, only when I felt that impossible pressure of safety, that I finally let myself fall apart.

The panic came like a storm, a flood of trembling and sobbing that ripped through me without restraint. I could feel myself shaking harder than ever before, my entire frame wracked with violent tremors while hot tears streamed down my face, soaking into his clothes. My throat ached from the cries I hadn’t even realized I was releasing until the sound echoed faintly off the hallway walls. Winston moved with deliberate care, peeling off one of the many layers of clothing he wore ,his scent embedded deep in the fabric and wrapped me up in it like a fragile gift. I was still naked underneath, but something about that moment told me that nudity meant very little to beings like them.

Still, I buried my face into his neck, inhaling as if I could drown in the warm, earthy scent of him, my sobs hitching into his skin. I cried harder than I ever had in my entire life shameless, terrified, overwhelmed. Every nerve screamed with pain. My neck throbbed, the lingering sting of the shock collar still etched into my skin like a burning brand. My hands throbbed with a dull, pulsing agony that made me wonder if they’d actually broken again—or if this was simply the aftershock of being restrained for too long.

Winston’s hand moved gently to the top of my head, stroking slowly. It wasn’t just comforting—it was grounding. His scent drifted around me as he released it purposefully, soothing my frayed nerves little by little. I tried desperately to draw it in, greedily pulling in each breath like it was oxygen. It helped. It helped more than I could admit.

"Back away," Xavier said, his voice low and calm, eerily calm. I’d never heard him speak like that before. Something about the way he said it made the skin on my arms prickle. Behind me, I heard shuffling movements and low murmurs, the sound of people responding but too afraid to speak clearly.

Then I heard footsteps, measured, slow, deliberate, getting closer and closer, closing in on me. The weight of the strongest emotion I’d ever felt slammed into me like a physical blow. Worry. Rage. It was both. A swirling, unstable mix that vibrated off his skin like an aura.

I clung tighter to Winston, afraid he’d let go. My grip turned desperate, fingers clawing at the fabric of his clothes like he was the only thing tethering me to this reality. "Xavier, you need to calm down or you're going to scare him more than necessary." Winston’s voice was strained, pleading, trying to reason with him. But the emotion, Xavier’s energy, it spiked again. My nose flared at the intensity of it, and I felt myself teetering on the edge of another panic attack, unable to shield myself from it.

I think Xavier was angry because I ran from him. Because I fled. Because I disobeyed. And that made him furious.

"Give him to me," Xavier demanded, voice dark, heavy with fury.

I started shaking again, uncontrollably, and the tears came back like floodgates breaking open once more. My mouth opened to cry out but no sound came—just a broken whimper.

"Not until you calm down," Winston said sternly, though I could hear the tension tightening in his words.

Without warning, a loud growl erupted from Xavier, vibrating through the hallway like thunder. Then I was yanked from Winston’s arms with terrifying force, my small body colliding with a hard chest. I yelped in pain, panic spiking but then I inhaled.

The scent. It was him. Xavier. My other mate.

Despite my terror, the soft tingles that rippled across my skin in contact with his soothed something raw inside both of us. It was instinctual, automatic. His anger hadn’t disappeared, but it was diluted now, laced with something else. Possessiveness. Regret. Hunger.

"Xavier, please calm down before you do something you’ll regret," Winston begged behind us, still trying. Still holding back.

But when Winston dared to take a single step forward, Xavier growled again louder, deeper, warning. I turned my head slightly and saw Winston's eyes glowing, his body tense, lips peeled back in a snarl but deep down, I could tell. He was still holding back. Still trying to deescalate.

That was when everything went black.

I lost consciousness. Again.

Pathetic.

I’d gotten weaker.

…

This time when I woke up, it was different.

Pain exploded through my entire body the moment my eyes fluttered open. I screamed, a raw, animalistic sound that tore from my throat before I even knew what I was reacting to. My body jolted violently, only to be yanked still by a dozen biting restraints.

The first thing I noticed was the searing, unbearable pain in my heels. It was sharp, cutting, was it possible? Had they cut my Achilles tendons? No, no—they wouldn’t. They couldn’t. Could they?

Panic clawed at me, threatening to pull me under again. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t see. My arms were pulled behind my back at an unnatural angle, bound and tied upward, stretching my shoulders until they screamed. A blindfold was tightly wrapped over my eyes, blotting out any hint of light, and a thick, rubbery pressure at my face told me I was gagged and muzzled, completely silenced. I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t plead. I couldn’t breathe properly. Naked. Helpless. My skin stung as a cold breeze passed over my bare bottom, making me shudder violently.

Suddenly, the door slammed open, the sound sharp and vicious.

I flinched instinctively, heart lurching in my chest. Footsteps entered, slow, circling, like a predator stalking prey. I could hear the pacing, the heavy weight of each step echoing off the walls around me. I wanted to scream, to beg, to do anything but I couldn’t move or make a sound. I was completely, utterly vulnerable.

Then I smelled him.

Xavier.

Not Winston.

My heart plummeted into my stomach.

I thought Winston was the scary one. I thought his dominance was terrifying. But now… now I could feel Xavier’s fury simmering like a volcano beneath the surface, and I knew, I just knew .... I was about to find out what his rage looked like when it was fully unleashed.

And I was terrified.