Evelyn’s POV
I can think of dozens of things I’d rather be doing than going back to my respected pack house. Maybe even hundreds of things. And I hate that I’m a bundle of nerves in the backseat of the car as we approach the house.
I wish I could tell the driver to slow down, to maybe even pull off for a moment so I can take a few deep breaths. However, I know the sooner I’m there then the sooner I can get this whole thing over with.
I’m left taking a few deep breaths in the backseat, trying to keep my exhales silent so I don’t alert my driver. If he does notice then he doesn’t show any signs as he’s completely at ease as we officially pull up to the house.
I murmur a “thank you” to him despite not feeling very thankful, and then I climb out of the car. My throat is dry as I walk up
