ripped from my throat.
I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay, I chanted inside my head, knowing that Eugene didn’t intend to hurt me, that he was actually trying to help me.
I was finally going to be free. To be a wolf, to shift whenever I wanted … I couldn’t even comprehend such a thing.
My mother and father were cuffed too, so before today, I’d never actually seen a werewolf in wolf form until seeing the students lying on the grass. I could do this.
Just thinking of my parents sent sadness sinking into my stomach like a stone. What time was it? Were they home from work? Wondering where I was? Was Raven telling them right now? I tried to focus on them and ignore the panic attack that had me in its grip. Whatever pain was about to befall me was going to be worth it to be free.
The witch brought the copper dagger to the cuff and sliced downward, causing it to open and fall to the floor. I flinched, bracing myself for the pain, but nothing happened. She did the same to the other cuff, and it cut like it was made of butter … but caused me no pain. A sigh of relief went through me. Then she placed her hand over my chest, palm splayed out until her nails were digging into my skin.
Hard.
“Entora dilumin wolven forchesto,” she began to chant.
Witch speak.
I knew enough of it to pick up the words wolf death.
Before I could dwell too much on the wording, searing pain ripped through my chest. I bucked in Eugene’s arms but he pinned my back to his chest and it was like I was being held in cement.
Panic and pain swirled within me, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from screaming.
The witch took the copper blade and held it to my hair. Using one hand, she cut a chunk off and then placed the hair under her palm, which was still on my chest. I was in too much pain to care that she’d just given me a hack-job haircut. What was once a sharp jabbing pain in my chest now reached down my spine and into my toes.
“Stop!” I wailed, fearing I was about to pass out. Sweat prickled on my skin and my wolf rose to the surface, my teeth lengthening in my mouth.
Whoa.
“Wolven risenoto becara,” she whispered, and that’s when I died.
I mean, it felt like I’d died. It felt like a fucking semi-truck ran me over on the road and then I’d been put into a blender. I must have fainted, because when I came to, I was slack in Eugene’s arms. He was holding me up by the armpits and the witch was across the room washing her hands with hand sanitizer like touching me was gross.
“You okay?” Eugene huffed in my ear, his voice laced with compassion.
I nodded against his chest and he deposited me into a chair. My whole body dropped into the seat like a sack of flour and I just sat there panting, trying to catch my breath. My skin felt like I’d been left out in the sun too long, and I had a feeling I was going to be sore tomorrow.
“Payment,” the witch muttered, holding out her phone to the giant man.
Eugene tapped something on his tablet, casting worried glances my way, and her phone beeped. She looked down at it and smiled. “Pleasure doing business with you.”
He glared at her as she left the room, the door softly closing behind her.
I stared at the cuffs, sliced in half and lying on the floor. Then I looked at my wrists. They were white, like butt white where the cuffs had been, and golden tan everywhere else. At the edges were scars from the constant rubbing over the years, the constant shocks.
I was free…
Eugene seemed to notice my distress and cleared his throat, picking the cuffs up off the floor and walking over to the trash can.
“No! I want to keep them,” I blurted. I didn’t know why but throwing them in the trash felt like throwing a part of me away.
He nodded, setting them on the glass desk in front of me.
There was a light tap on the door and he seemed to be expecting it. Standing, he tapped something on the glass menu board and spoke. “Come in.”
The front desk lady was back with her tablet. She took one look at the cut-off cuffs on the table and raised an