Sniffle.
Silence.
Sob.
Repeat.
The familiar sound of grief was all I could hear.
True to his word, the Alpha had left Opal alive, with my promise that I wouldn't try to escape. And since I now had ulterior motives, I had decided that I would uphold my end of the deal. I would sit here and plot how I'd destroy his pack from the inside.
Which, to be fair, was rather hard to do when one was sitting in a cell with only a grieving witch for company.
Sniffle.
Silence.
Sob.
Repeat.
I'd been upgraded - somewhat, anyways - from the cold, stone room in which I'd woken up in. I was now in what I considered to be a generic prison cell - the metal bars, very open, no privacy. Also, I could see into the cell next to mine, which was both a blessing and a curse.
On one hand, I could see Opal.
On the other, I could see Opal.
Why was this a good and a bad thing?
Well, it's good to know that she's alive and that she's relatively unharmed - physically, anyway. It's reassuring to know that I have a decent cell-neighbour, one who would gladly give up her life for me.
But... I also have to see the consequences of my actions. I have to watch Opal switch between aggressively sobbing and staring numbly at the wall. I have to see the constant reminder that I did that to her. I may not have killed Kyle myself - that deed goes to Keith. I may not have ordered his death - that's due to the Alpha. But I might as well have done both of those. By not coming quietly, by insisting that I could get out of the city without running into any trouble, by dragging them into the mess of my life in the first place, I started the chain reaction that caused the death of Opal's beloved husband. And my friend.
Every action has its consequences; you made your choices, Little Hunter. Now deal with the aftermath.
I guess this was my punishment for murdering members of Toronto's pack. It wasn't enough that Kyle was brutally killed in front of me, while I was helpless to do anything. No, I had to watch his widow suffer, too.
My life is fucking utopia right now.
Sniffle.
Silence.
Sob.
Repeat.
Not only did I have to listen to Opal drown in grief; no, I was plagued by my own memories of such noises.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Hunter
ParanormalThis is it. He's going to die, and I'll be free. At the last second, he moved, and I was suddenly pinned up against the wall, the silver dagger now in his hand. He pressed the blade to my throat, a sadistic grin creeping across his face. "Oh, Reese...