I can’t call for help, or even beg her to stop, I am weak. I would beg for her to stop if I could. I can’t feel my wolf because of the silver and whatever
else has me disoriented. I just keep shouting in my head hoping someone can hear my stifled cry for help.
I don’t focus on one person, I shout out to the whole pack, praying someone can hear me. Maybe Oliver and the twins can feel my agony, anything to stop this.
But, maybe they can’t since there is wolfsbane blocking my connection. Maybe my wolf is the only connection I have to them. Maybe she’s the reasot
we connect with them. It’s not because of me. I am still just the unwanted spare. I can hear muffled conversation around me, but I can’t make anything out through the blinding pain.
My head is whipped back and someone has a firm grip on my hair. My body makes an involuntary noise of agony. I still can’t see anyone, but I can feel several of the tiny baby hairs pulling from my scalp, making my eyes water.
Then the unmistakable sound of scissors cutting slowly, deliberately slowly. Snip, snip, snip, snip, before my head falls forward unexpectedly lighter,
and freshly cut short, loose strands fall into my eyes and poke at my face. She cut off my hair. What is wrong with her? I’m already beaten to the point of not being recognizable.
“There, now even when you heal, you will look terrible and none of the guys will want to look at you or to be seen with you. Make sure she’s out until
after the ball is over, preferably for a day or two. That should give me plenty of time with the Alphas. And if I see you anywhere near them after this,
Skank, I will make sure you don’t survive the next round. There are plenty of wolves willing to help me get rid of worthless trash like you.”
The unmistakable sound of heels clicking on the tile floor of the locker room retreated behind me. Punches and kicks rain all over my body again. A
few more to my face tell me this is probably why I can’t see, my eyes are swollen and almost shut.
I just keep chanting “please help me” in my head over and over again as my cries of pain go ignored. I can’t move my arms or legs. Maybe I’m bound
maybe they’re broken, who knows.
I knew that there was a target on my back when the guys said they were taking Sierra and I to this stupid ball and hanging out with us, but I didn’t
think this was going to be the result. I hope Sierra isn’t locked somewhere going through the same torture.
I can feel the warm stream of tears running down my deformed face. I can’t believe this is how I am going to leave this world, there’s no way I will
make it to a next time. Drugged and beaten in the locker room of my favorite place.
The arena, my true home. The place that allowed me to feel normal and a part of this pack, with a purpose.
This is where I am going to take my last breath. I guess it could be worse. I am home. I just wish I would have been able to fight for my life, not
trussed up like a pig for sl*ughter.
The light is starting to fade and it has gotten more quiet, but maybe I just can’t hear anymore. I’m making out less and less colors in front of me. I
didn’t even get to say goodbye to the kids, that would have been nice. And Brandon really wanted to show off with Cam.
I bet it would have been really cute watching him go up against the future Alpha again, so serious and determined he could win. And Cam would have
played along, even just for a bit. Dakota would have been standing by to give Brandon pointers on how to beat his brother.
I can picture the sparkle in his eye. Sam would have been talking smack to Cam about having to go up against a kid to look good and Mateo and
Oliver would be standing watch to make sure nothing went wrong. Always the protectors.
