lightning witch 02 - lightning legacy Read Free

along his wrists. I felt his warm blood form a trail from his wound down my thighs. He didn't even flinch at the pain. That pissed me off. I began pulling power from my core.
    He began to squeeze me hard as he said, "This, Delaney. You give yourself to me without shocking me or causing me pain. Because I’m getting to the point where I’ll take it from you. Remember what is at stake here. You know he lives, but I can change that."
    Just as fast as he grabbed me, he pushed me to the bed and let me go.
    I felt him get off the bed and walk to the door. He absentmindedly rubbed his wrists in pain. At the gesture, I felt my lips quirk up into a smile. God, even that felt like a victory. He looked down at his hands and stopped. It was too late though. It was sad that something so trivial felt like such an accomplishment.
    “Until your attitude improves, you won’t be allowed to hunt,” he said. Then I heard him lock the door. That felt like a reward. I curled up on my side, but wouldn’t cry. A tear trailed down my cheek despite what I wanted. My life was rubble and I simply wanted to lay down in the wreckage and waste away with the tatters of my life.
     

 
    THREE DAYS, MITCH didn't come back for three blessed days. The new moon was nearing and I could feel its draining pull on me. I, unlike the other werewolves, could shift from my human form in the span of a breath. However, it was still painful. I’d found a love of running though. Darting around trees and dodging any obstacle in my path was like a high for me. Mitch never let me out of his sight, but when he did allow me to hunt, it was exhilarating. But the act of the kill always discomforted me. I could never revel in it like the rest of Mitch’s pack. Speaking of those assholes, they lived for the kill. For me, being in my wolf form, it wasn’t about the kill, it was more about letting the wild part of me go to the forefront and really letting loose. It was about more than death for me; it was so much about life. But the thought of warm blood coating my tongue sent a shiver through my body. I hated that part of me.
    There was a knock at the door.
    “If you’re not Publisher’s Clearing House, you can go fuck yourself.” Okay, I know I wasn’t being very nice. I’d run out of fucks to give.
    I heard Mark’s low grumble of distaste. Ah yes, I guess he got the short straw today. I heard the sixty-seven locks click open and the chains fall away. I might have tried to leave this cell a few times, hence the Shawshank-style confinement.
    “If you could be nice just once, Delaney, that would be great.”
    Mark’s dull, monotone voice oozed over my skin. The guy really gave me the willies. He had his back to me as he pushed into the room, pulling a cart with what I knew would be my lunch.
    “Oh, well, Mark, then I wouldn’t have near as much fun!” I quipped back at him. “Did your master let you off your leash? Were you a good boy? Did you kneel at his feet and suck his…”
    “Shut the fuck up, bitch!” he snarled, whirling to face me. His plump, craggy face was red. Though he was short and slightly round, he was not altogether displeasing.
    Mark was Mitch’s third in the pack. He nearly tripped over Mitch’s heels, he clung so tight to his master. That was basically all I knew about him. I smiled at the expression on his face. He was so mad. His little beady eyes were pinched and his mouth was just a small white line that slashed across his face. He was slightly limping. Clearly, he had been hurt yesterday at the pack meeting. Oh, the meeting I couldn’t go to. But there was something more with him. He wasn’t his cocky self. I needed to find out what had happened to knock this man down a peg.
    I eyed him as he placed the plates on the edge of the bed. His eyes met mine and held there. Looking at him in the eyes he would see as a challenge, but damn it, he dropped his eyes in submission. I had to clamp down on the urge to go for his neck. I don’t