My name, sharp. Low. Right beside me.
I snap my head sideways. He’s there. Damian. Calm as a mountain in a storm. One mismatched eye gleaming pale blue, the other near black in the dim light. Both burning steady into me.
My throat’s tight, breath shallow, heart pounding like it’s trying to break out of me.
“I—I can’t—” I rasp. My hands clutch the armrests, knuckles white, nails biting plastic. My whole body’s trembling, vibrating like the plane itself.
Another hit. The cabin jolts, people gasping, Cole swearing loud behind me. Tyler actually yelps two rows up.
I’m shaking apart.
Damian doesn’t move for a second. Just watches me. Measures it. Then—slow, deliberate—his hand comes down heavy on my thigh again. This time higher. Closer to my hip.
The weight of it pins me. Grounds me. His voice follows, low enough that it slices through the roar of the engines, through the creak of metal, through the pounding in my head.
“Breathe, pup.”
My throat locks.
The plane rattles again, overhead bins shaking, lights flickering once more. Someone curses, another muttering “fuckfuckfuck” like a prayer.
Damian’s hand squeezes, fingers curling into my thigh, steady, firm. “In.”
I suck in a breath, broken, like I’m drowning.
“Out.”
I shudder, let it out in a rush that cracks my chest.
“In.”
I obey before my head can argue.
“Out.”
My ribs loosen. Just a fraction.
He keeps going, relentless. Like my panic is just another shift he’s coaching me through. His hand stays heavy on my thigh, squeezing every time I jolt, anchoring me every time the plane bucks.
The plane jerks so hard my stomach punches into my throat. Oxygen masks don’t drop—thank fuck—but the overhead bins rattle like they’re about to burst. The captain’s voice crackles overhead, calm, measured.
“Ladies and gentlemen, due to current conditions we’ll be making an emergency landing—”
Emergency landing.
That’s all I hear.
My chest caves. My throat snaps shut. My lungs won’t pull air anymore. All I see is ocean, dark and endless, the silver flash of fins cutting through water, teeth waiting to rip me apart. Sharks. Drowning. Falling through black nothing and getting shredded before I even hit the bottom.
I’m gasping but nothing comes. Hyperventilating so bad my vision tunnels, sound muffled, the roar of the engines drowning out everything but my own heartbeat slamming against my ribs.
All I hear is the blood in my ears. All I see is the ocean. All I feel is my ribs splintering under a breath that won’t come.
Then fingers slam into my curls.
Yanking my head sideways. Forcing my gaze up.
“Elias.”
