Wolf Bonded (Wolfish Book 1) by Eden Beck

Author:Eden Beck [Beck, Eden]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-08-20T16:00:00+00:00

18

Sabrina

Even during the best of circumstances, I’m not a good swimmer.

And here, plunging unexpectedly into ice-cold water in jeans, heavy boots, and an oversized sweater is far from best of circumstances.

There’s a moment where I hang beneath the surface, shock disorienting my brain as I try to figure out what just happened. By the time I’ve begun to realize what I need to do next—swim to the surface—I suddenly find I can’t.

I can’t move at all.

My hoodie somehow managed to get caught on the rocks just below the surface of the water and must have halfway pulled off my body in the plunge, leaving my arms and upper body tangled inside it.

For a second, I panic. My body writhes uncontrollably against the restraints, but they won’t loosen. Finally, I’m able to get ahold of myself just enough to wiggle my hand out from between the mangled strings at the top to unzip the hoodie and slide free of it.

The brief moment of relief that floods through me comes too soon.

The second I’m free of the garment, I drift down into a strong undertow and am swept away. It’s like the ground drops out beneath me. One moment, I’m trapped and tangled in the darkness, the next I’m thrust into a spinning current that moves so quickly, I immediately lose track of which way is up, and which way is death.

I shoot my arms out, trying to stop my spin. I manage to gouge one hand on a sharp rock outcropping, and though it’s too slippery to get a grip, it does help me get my bearings.

Just for a second.

By the time I surface and am able to take a heaving gulp of air, I see that I’ve already been carried to the bend in the river. I surface just in time to avoid bashing my head on a rock before I’m pulled under a second time.

This part of the river is not like the part we were sitting by. Here, the river narrows into rapids with white-capped water and steep, rocky banks. Each time I’m able to stay afloat just long enough to take in a half lungful of air. Never enough to stem the feeling that I am steadily, surely, drowning.

This is it.

Everything I’ve worried about, everything I’ve done to try to keep myself safe, it’s all for nothing if I end up drowning in this river, right now. It’s all pointless if it ends here.

More importantly, however, I realize that I don’t want it to end here.

I don’t want it to end like this—the pointless end to a long line of pointless self-torture. Because that’s what it’s been, hasn’t it? All the running. The hiding. The keeping people away, never letting anyone in.

It’s all just been leading up to … to … this?

No.

This can’t be it.

The next time I surface, I try to scream. I prepare to lose my last chance at breath, just for a shot at being heard, but as soon as I open my mouth water crashes against me and fills my throat with water.

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