Dark grey grit crunched under the horses' hooves as we climbed the hill. I remained calm, focusing on the path ahead; a break would come at the summit, but it was still some time away. Our cow had been sent to the magic house during my nap, and they'd already obtained a considerable amount of milk and cheese, the latter curing in Salvatore's saddlebags. They had even churned butter.
I spoke to no one, concentrating solely on moving forward and maintaining my composure—no easy feat on this arduous road. Past horseback riding trips, though shorter, had seen me heavily sedated in the laps of Salvatore or Charles when the going got tough.
This time, however, was different. We'd only been riding for a few hours, perhaps just reaching the mountain's base, yet Mariella, already ahead of Number One, was sedated; either from fear or a deliberate ploy to garner his care. There was no room to offer me any help, as Elena and Katherine, surprisingly, were also nervous.
It took considerable effort from the men to keep them calm, given the narrow, single-file path that afforded no opportunity for companionship. Even Mimosa and Shadow were anxious; I heard they'd wanted to travel on all fours, but Damon had refused, fearing the horses might be spooked. The boys, similarly, were ordered to remain in human form, a restriction that clearly irritated them.
This challenging trip was all about survival; things weren't meant to be easy. Ironically, I'd been excluded from the women seeking safety. I wondered if I'd inadvertently signaled my well-being through some pheromone, or if it was a reaction to my time with Wulfe and my enjoyment of it.
Regardless, their childish behavior was stupid, but I went with the flow. The air grew cooler as we ascended, and I spotted snow-capped peaks. It would be chilly, but I had warm clothes and insulated, heated tents. Sharing body heat would also help. But it was when I would reach the top.
I pondered the emotional power I'd released, its connection to my mental "cavern of power," and whether I possessed multiple "nuclear reactors" in my mind. No wonder I felt tense sometimes! Perhaps releasing this power regularly would be beneficial, as I suspected this wasn't a one-time event.
My powers are rarely simple. As the pack's "power battery," providing energy for others was part of my role—a role I found less than appealing. My selfishness irked me, despite my powers' rapid replenishment. I'm usually selfless, but not with my powers; it's a quirky flaw. I don't often identify as a woman or female, but rather as a unique creature, my gender is irrelevant.
To distract myself from our increasing altitude and the precarious path, I let my mind wander. The ground rose steeply with each step, the path insecure, gravel slipping under the horses' hooves, and small stones tumbling into the ravine beside us. The drop was considerable, but I focused on staying calm.
This part of the path was wide enough for two to travel abreast, but a short distance ahead, a narrow, steep, and winding section presented itself—a challenging prospect. However, as the leader of my organization, I'd faced serious adversity, so a difficult horseback ride shouldn't faze me.
Taking a calming breath as we proceeded, I saw Mariella had fallen unconscious; her horse, secured behind the number one with my ropes, was walking steadily. I could easily give my supplies to make things easier, to my pack, though a touch of bitterness tinged my thoughts, as I was not in the mood for pampering Mariella.
Charles and Adam calmly walked ahead, their horses navigating the loose pebbles on the path. Maintaining my composure, I continued step-by-step as the path narrowed, steepened, and its bends grew more severe. The path even leaned precariously, my pulse quickening, my hands sweating. This was the most terrifying road I had ever traveled.
My usual sense of invincibility as a shapeshifting leader vanished; the thought of transforming into a bird to escape a fall didn't even cross my mind. Only dread filled my stomach. I swallowed hard, my grip tightening on the queen's reins. I tried to avoid squeezing her too hard with my legs, but felt her back hoof slip. The lurch sent my pulse soaring.
"Oh my god, will we fall?" flashed through my mind, and in a fatal error, I looked down. It is true what they say, never look down.
The view lurched, dizziness and nausea washing over me as I saw how high we were and the jagged rocks far below. The thought of falling didn't ease my mounting terror. My pulse pounded like a wild horse's hooves, my hands shaking uncontrollably. I could smell the sharp scent of my fear wafting in the air.
Queen tossed her head, dancing nervously; I gripped the reins, horror scenarios flashing through my mind: a broken, mangled heap at the bottom of the ravine. Queen grew more anxious, her hooves slipping, the road seeming to tilt even further. The dizziness intensified, my breathing quickened, my heart hammering against my ribs—this was going to end badly.
As we continued, the road deteriorated, the edge crumbling beneath us, Queen's hooves slipping more violently, causing even greater instability. She was one of the largest horses in our pack, making this ordeal incredibly difficult for both of us.
I was completely overwhelmed, losing control as panic seized me with terrifying force. The dark, almost black pebbles of the path continued to give way under our weight. Queen tossed her head, and I couldn't calm her—or myself.
We were last in line, unnoticed as Mariella and the other females commanded attention. The humiliation was insignificant compared to the overwhelming panic and fear. Riding a horse as a panicked feline shifter is disastrous; the horse senses the predator's fear, compounding the panic.
Charles muttered under his breath as Mimi's panic flooded into him through their bond. Despite Damon's orders to secure the six females among the twenty-four males, five were safely accounted for; Mimi, however, was far more important to him than Mariella or any other female in the pack.
This irritated Charles, but he forced himself to rein in his urge to wrap his arms around Mimi and quell her terror. He cursed his forgetfulness and Mimi's predictable panic in such situations; it had never been easy for her. He couldn't understand why they hadn't led the horses up the road; Damon's brilliant idea of riding had seemed easier than trudging uphill, but it was likely Mariella who'd insisted on the easier route.
Now, Charles resented Mariella, ashamed to be her protector, considering her a "damn bitch." Adam's worry mirrored his own, and Charles slowed his horse. The road was wide enough to maneuver beside Queen, grab her rein, and try to get Mimi to listen. Mimi's panic felt like it might crack Charles's composure.
As a teeth vampire, he could create substances in his sinuses and inject them through his fangs; his teeth reacted instantly to his emotions, flooding his fangs with a potent sedative he called "velvet." Sharp headache lanced in his forehead as his sinuses overworked, making substances, mainly velvet. He could taste a slight saltiness on his tongue. He used salt in his substances, where Adam used sugar, Damon used vinegar and acids, and Mimi used caffeine and sugar, too.
He spoke calmly to Mimi and Queen, urging the Queen to calm down and get Mimi to listen. He fought to maintain control, resisting the urge to simply grab Mimi and restrain her, as her unpredictable reactions, particularly during such intense panic, could be dangerous.
I have no idea how much time passed; panic gripped me. Then, slowly, Charles's calm voice, his scent, and his firm grip on Queen's reins broke through. I blinked, trying to regain control. I realized I was wet with cold sweat, shaking like a leaf, and feeling very unpredictable.
"Honey, let go of the reins. Let me have them. Come on, let go. That's it. I've got you. Calm down," he said.
I took a shaky breath. We were in a slightly wider part of the path, but I could still see pebbles crumbling under Queen's hooves. The mere sensation almost sent me spiraling back into panic. Pebbles tumble out of the path, into the ravine, and I could not even hear them hitting the bottom.
His warm, calm voice continued, somehow compelling my obedience, even as panic threatened to overwhelm me. "Honey, you're safe. C'mon, now, lift your leg. That's it. Grab me. Good girl. I've got you. You're safe. That's it. Everything's going to be just fine. I've got you, as always, honey."
My body obeyed without conscious thought as Charles helped me dismount from Queen during our ride and positioned me in front of him. He used his alpha power quite heavily to push through my panic to make me function in some way.
"Grab me," he instructed. "Good girl. Now press your face against my chest. Focus. Focus on my heartbeat. That's it. You can squeeze me as hard as you want; I won't break."
I clung to his strong body, feeling his warmth and muscles against me. I was shaking violently, even in his arms, yet the full force of my reaction seemed to hit me only then. I could barely feel us moving. His heartbeat was calming, even though it was rapid, as it always had.
I took a shaky breath, smelling his crisp apple scent, a scent that betrayed his own worry. He smelled slightly burned; his vampire side had reacted. I also detected the sharp, acrid scent of potent velvet on his breath. Opening my eyes, I saw Adam riding beside us, holding Queen's rein in one hand and a jar in the other, draining his own velvet into it.
Both of them had reacted viscerally to my panic, creating velvet from their fangs. Even so, I couldn't fully shake the panic. Closing my eyes, I focused on Charles's calm voice in my mind, his heartbeat, and his scent, hoping to regain control and quell the overwhelming panic.
Overwhelmed by panic, I could only cling to Charles's heartbeat and scent; time became irrelevant. Slowly, a sense of security began to penetrate the thick haze, calming my frantic mind. Adam had poured nearly a liter of velvet before my panic subsided enough for me to notice Charles, who held a large container in his fangs, pouring out his potent, green velvet.
I closed my eyes, though they remained slightly open, and loosened my death grip on Charles, realizing I'd nearly broken some of his ribs. Yet he hadn't even groaned. We continued our ascent; the air growing colder, but Charles kept me warm and safe against him. Adam now rode beside us, the Queen behind, and I felt Adam's reassuring touch as he, too, sought to comfort and protect me; my panic had deeply affected them both.
Eventually, we would reach the summit and rest, perhaps allowing me to continue my journey on the Queen's back; however, overwhelmed as I was, this remained a distant thought. Even the memory of those slipping pebbles sent my heart racing, prompting murmurs of reassurance from both Charles and Adam as they worked to calm me.
As Adam and Charles guided Mimi and Queen through the narrowest part of the path, both men were exhausted. Charles cursed silently. Mimi would have been safer riding with Wulfe, but Mariella's jealousy had intervened, bringing them perilously close to disaster.
Charles, furious after Mimosa had recounted the events, to him just how damn close call it had been. So Charles planned to reveal the truth at the summit. There had been a 67% chance of Mimi falling—all because Mariella couldn't control her need to attract males for protection, sedating herself into blissful ignorance throughout the journey.
Charles, though angry, focused on calming his wife, Mimi, in his arms. Even though she'd broken a few of his ribs, the pain was insignificant compared to ensuring her safety and well-being. Despite the number one's promise of being packleader first and pussyslave second, Mimi remained terrified in his arms, trembling uncontrollably. So much for big promises from the packleader, Charles thought, irritated.
Charles murmured soothing words, assuring her that he would ensure her safety from now on. Queen, being an enormous horse, would either be controlled by Mimi in stressful situations, or Mimi would remain safely in Charles's arms; this would never happen again. Charles didn't mind Mimi's grip on his ribs as she clung to him, her shaking intensifying.
He continued to calm her, her sharp, overripe strawberry scent a clear sign of her fear. This fear didn't agitate his vampire side; in fact, his vampire side loved Mimi deeply. Despite his hell of a dominant nature, he was also deeply loving, and their centuries of games had forged a powerful bond. His vampire side simply wanted his mate to calm the fuck down.
Charles's vampire side conceived the amusing notion of making a meal of the pussyslave Salvatore; this reflected his intense irritation. Mimi's plight deeply disturbed him, as she was the most important being in his life—his beloved wife. Witnessing her distress made him extremely anxious; he was unsure how to react if Salvatore tried to interfere or give orders.
Their journey was nearing its end; they were almost at the mountaintop, where Mimi might finally calm down, and they could continue their trip. Damon's promise, a reaction to number two's promise, contained loopholes that Charles had shrewdly identified. Although the promises sounded impressive, they lacked binding power.
Charles had intended to demonstrate the making of an unbreakable promise—free of Mariella's manipulation—but that could wait. His focus now was on protecting Mimi, helping her overcome her panic. Feeling powerless, he recognized the limitations of his non-telepathic abilities. Perhaps Lepard or other Salvatores could help, provided they were free of Mariella's control. Charles often fantasized about subduing Mariella and showing her what it meant to be properly controlled. She might be quite surprised and sore after a few weeks under his rule.