Page 65 of Freed By the Witchbone Knife

His breathing had grown more labored, and when I looked at him again, his face had gone pale beneath his tan.

“Axel…?”

“Just…give me a second.” He released my arm, leaning his back against the wall.

A bead of sweat dripped down his temple.

“What’s wrong?” Alarm bells began ringing in my head. I’d never seen him like this. Unresponsive. He looked…unwell.

“Do we need to turn back?” The thought made everything in me protest. I’d spent my entire life living with this curse. If I found the knife today, there was a chance I’d be free. Free of the drain on my magic. Free of Ambrose.

“Or… I can continue on alone if you need to go.”

“Not—alone,” he gritted out, eyes still squeezed tightly shut.

“I’m sure it’s perfectly safe.”

“No,” he growled. “Just…” He opened his eyes, blinking at the opposite wall. There was a vacancy there that made my heart race.

Axel leaned more heavily against the wall, then began sinking towards the ground.

“Good idea. Just sit for a moment. Here—” I pulled a bottled water from my pack, opening it. He brushed it away.

“You should drink,” I advised.

“Not…thirsty. Fuck.” His chest rose and fell more quickly. I immediately recognized the signs. Panic attack.

“I’ve got you. Come on.” I crouched closer, getting down on my knees. My pulse raced faster when I caught sight of his sharp claws, like he was fighting the urge to shift. Unpredictable wolves were dangerous, and yet, I trusted him.

“Please—just have some water,” I urged, desperate to make things better. I wasn’t sure what brought this on—the dark, the closed in corridor, the cave itself, being below ground?—but something had triggered him.

He pushed the open bottle away, sloshing some.

“Okay, how about we try some grounding techniques, yeah?”

“They’re trying to hurt me.” His voice cracked.

“It’s just me here.”

“They’ll hurt me,” he said again.

My brow furrowed. I couldn’t help but glance over my shoulder. We were completely alone. But it was clear from his far off gaze that he wasn’t quite…present.

“Who’s trying to hurt you?” I kept my voice low, soothing, but I was starting to panic, too.

“The witches.” The word—accusation—came out a hiss. My stomach plummeted.

Witches.

“No one is going to hurt you, Axel.” I brushed a finger along his jaw.

“Yes. They will. You can’t take me to them.” His gaze remained empty. He blinked but looked at nothing. “They said they would fix me. Get the wolf out. But they…they…”

A sick feeling filled my stomach. Followed by a sour taste in my mouth. “What do you mean?”

“They brought me into the dark to fix me. They needed… They said…”

Oh, God.