The Cold Prince

19

Word Count: 2138

~Avila

I hold the note in my hand, wandering out into the garden.

This morning I woke to find it placed on my bedside table. It hasn't been marked with his name, but I'm assuming that if it's anyone, it's him.

"Emerick? It's daylight, we can't do this," I call out, turning in a circle.

I wouldn't have thought he would want to risk coming to meet me so close to the house and in the middle of the day.

Suddenly, two figures jump up from behind one of the neatly trimmed hedges.

"Surprise!"

Stumbling back, my ankles hook around a raised garden bed and I fall back, my backside slamming against the stones.

Ancient memories flash unbidden through my mind.

I'm on the ground like I am now, except my knees are torn open and bloody, tears staining my cheeks. I'm somewhere unfamiliar, not in the garden, and I've just been pushed.

As the memory fades, I'm thrust back into reality. I'm screaming in panic, even if I'm not entirely sure why I feel like I'm about to be attacked.

Hand grab at me, trying to calm me, but the voices belonging to the hands feel disjointed and far away.

"Please don't hurt me!" I beg.

"Avila...it's just us," I hear distantly, reality crawling back to me slowly. "We aren't going to hurt you."

It's Venna. She's shaking me a little, trying to get my attention, to break my overwhelming panic. The cold, harsh memories of being pushed down violently have shaken me to the core, reminding me of a trauma buried deep that I haven't experienced until now.

"Venna," I say, the words coming from my mouth helping me sink back into reality.

I'm all too aware of my breath now. No matter how many breaths I take, I can't seem to get enough air into my lungs, which are tight with panic.

"Yeah, Venna. And Pria," Venna says, her brows drawn together as she gestures to a stunned look at Pria who hangs back like she's afraid of me.

"I can't breathe," I gasp out.

My throat feels like it's closing up, my mouth drying until my tongue feels like sandpaper.

Footsteps sound against the gravel and Roel appears from around the hedge, like he could sense my panic.

"What's going on?" He asks, coming to my side.

"I don't know. We jumped out to surprise her and she's freaking out," Venna explains, backing off next to Pria.

I clutch Roel's hands, feeling my cheeks soaked with tears. I can't find a reason for my panic, I just know I can't quell it now it's set in so deeply.

"Roel, I can't breathe," I insist, my voice hoarse.

He takes my face in his hands, forcing my attention on him. "Look at me. Calm yourself. One breath after another."

I follow his instruction, drawing in one breath first, and then another, trying not to let my fright quicken them until they are out of control again.

"Concentrate on breathing deeply." He points to my stomach, where he wants me to concentrate on breathing in from. "Touch these stones and ground yourself. You're here, and you're safe."

I rest my palms against the gravel, feeling the small, sharp stones digging into my flesh.

Slowly, my breath's start to calm, my panic subsiding. I feel so weak I could collapse, but the memory no longer haunts me, and all that is left is a dull ache in my lower back from falling onto the ground.