I kept my posture tight, my hands folded neatly in my lap, and toes pressed into the carpet. My breathing stayed controlled,because panicking now meant punishment, at least at Lockswell it did.
Evander hasn’t gone over punishments yet, and I kind of wished he did. But surely whatever he thought best would be what I’d get. Nothing worse than what the handlers did could scare me.
But hiding the panic wasn’t going to make it stop.
It crawled up my spine in small, sharp waves, tightening my chest and making my fingers tremble.
I’m fine. I’m fine. I had to be fine.
Maybe if I told myself enough times, I’d finally believe it.
Sometimes, it worked. But most of the time, it only made me fall harder.
At Lockswell, I got decent enough at hiding the panic that clawed its way through my entire body. I was good at pretending; good at ignoring it until I could have a moment in a bathroom or hide away in my small room. It’d be just enough to let it simmer over the edge like a pot of milk before I got a lid on it again.
But I knew panic. I knew it was going to blow like a volcano if I didn’t get the lid tight enough. And that had to happen. Right now.
I brought the shirt up to my nose, hoping an Alpha’s scent would steady me. It wasn’t a dramatic movement, just a small tilt of my head and a soft inhale of the fabric. It was a trick I learned without drawing attention to myself.
It helped me. A tiny bit.
It smelt like Evander’s laundry soap. Clean, warm and something almost like a cedar. It wasn’t sterile or chemical, like the odor of everything I was used to.
This…this smelt safe.
I breathed it in again, slower this time, trying to let the scent anchor me. I tried to convince my body that I wasn’tin danger. No one was watching me for mistakes. That no punishment was coming since I didn’t break a rule yet.
But the panic didn’t care about the logic.
My chest still felt tight, and my arms begam to tremble from the force of staying still.
I could hide it. Ihadto hide it.
“Kasey?”
I lifted my eyes just enough to see the shape of Evander leaning forward. Then, just as quickly, I dropped my gaze again, like looking any higher might burn me.
Evander’s voice came low, careful. “What’s wrong?”
The question hit with a jolt.
What was wrong?
Everything felt too big, too loose, too unstructured. But if I opened my mouth, panic would spill out and panic was something I had to hide. Panic was something an Omega buried so deep; no one could see it.
I shook my head fast, hair brushing my cheeks, hoping the movement looked casual instead of desperate.
I tried to breathe the way I’d been taught. But the air felt thick. My mind was tired, worn thin from trying to understand a world without rules.
My body ached in familiar ways; the kind of ache I learned to ignore because acknowledging it never helped.
The changes were too much. The freedom was too much. The lack of direction was too much.
I didn’t know how to exist without boundaries. I didn’t know how to be a person without someone telling me what a person should look like.
And beneath all of it, something softer tugged at me. Something I didn’t dare say aloud.
I wanted Mama.
