This was not happening. Was not. I did not just lose my ex-boyfriend to the very creature my family hunted in a place I wasn't supposed to be on threat of violent and probably amphibious punishment by my mother.
Oh. My. Swearword.
I couldn't think or breathe or move. I stood there on the path in the dark, my focus so shot my limited night vision magic was gone, my shields a puddled mess dissipating at my feet. Everything wavered and wobbled around me and my chest rose and fell faster and faster as I gulped air into me, my lungs squeezing together like a steel band tightened around them, squeezing my life away.
My demon howled and I jerked out of my hysteria. I gulped a giant gasp of air and bent over in half, keeping my head down so I wouldn't pass out from my anxiety-fueled hyperventilation. I had to get it together. Had to. There was no one else to save him but me.