“I'm not amused,” he stepped closer wearing his brows in knits.
I stepped back with short shuffled steps. The pressure from his presence was uncomfortable and heavy like a vase titling on an edge ready to crash and fall apart.
“And I really don't want to do this,” My insides churned. Not in the present conditions anyway. Shifting was something I had been wanting but I'd long accepted. It was something I couldn't do. Now the notion of shifting felt terrifying.
“You're nervous, just breathe,” he said, his voice softening just a fraction.
“Fine,” I huffed. It wouldn't work anyway. Best to show him instead.
I frowned but did as he said regardless. Inhaling deeply, I let the air reach the depths of my lungs before exhaling. My heartbeat was frantic and the pain in my arm flared randomly.
