Page 38 of Reckless Hearts

Blood covering his head, soaking his copper hair until it turns blood red. His white face, unmoving hands.

My lungs scream, but I can’t fill them, panting over and over but getting no real breath.

A deep, instinctual fear shudders through me.

Rationally, I know it’ll be okay that once I pass out, my body will take over for my broken mind.

Because that’s what it is. Broken.

But nothing can overpower centuries of primal instinct.

The less oxygen I get, the more I panic, trapped in a vicious cycle.

I pull my knees to my chest, tucking my forehead against them, and try to count like my therapist taught me.

Each number is supposed to slow my breathing… but it’s too late.

I’m too far gone, the numbers spilling out faster and faster.

I don’t notice the door opening.

I barely register the light filtering in.

Vaguely, I hear my name whispered, then shouted but it’s too far away to reach me.

I’m so deep inside myself the world is distant, muffled.

Someone shakes my shoulders, but it barely registers above my shuddering.

I want to say,Just leave me alone… don’t look at me, but all I can do is gasp.

This time, my name comes clearly.

My head is captured in firm hands and then lips press hard against mine.

They’re warm and soft, and my body responds on instinct, opening to them.

“Breathe with me, Wildflower,” Maverick commands, and I follow.

Inhaling his exhale.

Exhaling into him.

In and out.

In and out.

He’s steady. Grounding. Controlling the pace until the static grows fainter and my senses start returning.

Touch. The feel of his lips grazing mine, the warmth of his steady breath, the firm press of fingers cradling my head.

Smell. Hints of forest and leather filling my nose.

Sound. His calming words coaxing me back to the present.

“That’s it. Breathe, baby. Come back to me. You’re doing so well. Just like that.”

Sight. Dark brown eyes filling my vision.

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