Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 85616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Then things got exponentially worse when my family ripped apart at the seams.
The anxiety attacks evolved into full-blown panic attacks. They weren’t overly frequent, but they were there and they were debilitating. The only thing that really helped was playing hockey. Being on the ice, playing with my team, unleashing a little aggression on my opponents—it all allowed me to take my mind off the constant buzz of dark dread and the shitty feeling of disappointing my father.
I’d also learned to mask most of my anxious feelings throughout the years. No one on the team, or my pack, really knew I suffered with this. The only person I told was my best friend, Chris. And that was because we were sharing a hotel room one night when I’d gotten hit with a particularly bad wave of anxiety. I spent the night quietly pacing from the bed to the bathroom, where I’d sink to the cold floor and try not to cry or shout. I thought I hadn’t woken him, but on one of my trips back to the bed I saw Chris sitting up in his, looking worried as fuck.
That’s when I told him everything. It was a relief, getting it off my chest, even though I wasn’t entirely sure what it was that I needed to talk about. I just rambled, got choked up, paced around some more until Chris stood up, grabbed my shoulders, told me I was going to be okay, and then wrapped me in a tight hug that only reinforced his words.
“Fuck,” I sighed, pushing off the kitchen counter. I pulled out my phone and considered calling him. Before I could tap on his name I got hit with a sweet scent drifting in from the open window above my sink.
Rain.
Moments later, the scent of moist soil and wet grass filled my kitchen. I inhaled deeply. My heart calmed and my brain slowed the constant buzzing that had been rattling my skull just seconds before.
I knew what I had to do.
“All right, Nike, I’ll be back.” I walked past his perch on the couch arm. He looked up at me with those wide amber eyes and gave a gentle meow in response. I went to my bedroom and changed into a pair of gray running shorts and a sleeveless faded Metallica T-shirt. Most people wouldn’t change for a run knowing it would rain, but then again, I wasn’t most people. I had my own quirks.
One of them being that I found peace in the storms.
Plus, I wasn’t planning on running as a human for long anyway. Shifting into my wolf form meant my clothes would stay dry.
There was a messy pile of shoes next to my front door. I grabbed my running sneakers and tugged them on. The scent of wet dirt and concrete grew stronger the moment I opened the door. There was something else mixed in there—sweet, pungent, raw. It hit me almost as hard as my anxiety had. Nearly brought me to my fucking knees. I couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was, though.
Huh… interesting.
I stepped outside, locked my door, and started off toward the thick gray clouds that were creeping in on the horizon. I lived in a quiet community of brick-faced townhomes, only a couple streets away from the trails that led into dense Vermont woods. I took a left out of the gate and ran toward them. The burst of energy and activity was already making me feel better. I focused on the rhythmic beat of my shoes hitting pavement, ignoring the whispers of anxiety that kept trying to tell me something was wrong even though nothing was.
I slowed once I reached the first trail. A glance over my shoulder told me no one else was around. People—normal ones, at least—were likely to stay inside today.
Good. I wanted the woods all to myself.
I ran down the trail. The sky above darkened with the combination of a thick canopy and a curtain of clouds. Rain began to fall through the leaves. I turned off the trail and started to run into the woods, jumping over a fallen log, losing myself deeper into the one place I felt most at home.
The storm broke. Rain pelted me, drenching my clothes, flattening my hair. That odd scent I picked up on earlier became stronger the further I ran. I realized then that I was running toward it. But my senses weren’t as strong in my human form as they were in my wolf form; I couldn’t tell what it was.
Time to shift, then.
The sound of the falling rain on the leaves and branches was a song I could never grow tired of. I listened to it as I came to a stop and shut my eyes. I found the anxiety completely dissipating as I tugged on the threads of whatever magic inside me allowed me to shift. The world momentarily blurred as my body painlessly rearranged itself, growing mottled gray and brown fur, claws, a tail, a snout, pointed ears dipped in black.