Book 1 in the Deviant Creatures Series
In the slums of New York City an underground prison sat. The City that Never Sleeps wasn't all it seemed, ruled by the society of the supernatural, the gang wars were pack wars, the drug dealers were car...
Listen to the song, it will help you understand what she is going through and adds that oomph to it.
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Grey eyes struggled to open, struggled to see what was plain and clear to witness. Long, slender fingers twitched in irritation, quickly becoming annoyed with her body's failed attempts to awaken from her forced slumber.
Blue eyes. So heavenly. So pure. So full of love. Staring down at her adoringly, crinkled at the corners. A cheeky dimple and a sheepish grin.
A rough intake of breath filled her lungs. The familiar burn swirled and roasted in her stomach, goading her emotions, taunting her into taking action. With her lips sucked tight to her lips and a small, frustrated furrow between blonde brows, she forced herself to open her eyes.
Met with a stone ceiling, she knew where she was. But being in a safe, warming environment did not take away her grief and rage. Sorrow and pain. Her self-hatred and pity. It was her fault. There was no other explanation for it. A tight ball became wadded up in her throat, holding back sorrowful tears, the female sat up, soft elf skins fell to around her waist. Her short hair was in a disarray and she knew for a fact that she would have bags that drug underneath her eyes.
Fisting the softness of the animal skins, she hesitantly called out to her wolf, lightly stepping over her boundaries. But all the came was a mournful whimper. Shaking off the thick, slimy feeling of dread, the female rose slowly to her feet, her body trembling with suppressed emotions. Olympe refused to come to terms with the truth, the truth too heartbreaking, too soul shattering.
Slender, muscled legs wobbled as she walked towards the drafty passageways, she felt wary in her own skin, in her wolf form her pelt would be risen in caution, warding off any potential threats. Grey eyes flashed in a silver warning, her wolf peeking out at their surrounding, relaxing when seeing they were in a safe shelter. But the human side, Olympe's side felt nothing but anger and hatred and grief towards the outside world.
The scuffle of her bare feet against the stone flooring rang through out the entirety of the network of caves, causing her to become on high alert knowing anyone or anything could be drawn to the sound. All of her rationality and humanity was thrown out the window ages ago, leaving her with a trigger warning reaction. As if in a daze, the female staggered down the long hall, swaying like drunkard, hand against the wall to hold herself up right.
Dark emotions swirled in her like a brewing hurricane. Hatred. Malicious intents. Heartache. Sorrow. Helplessness. Anger. The thirst for vengeance.
The disruptive cough yanked her out of her drowning thoughts, grey eyes flew upwards to meet blues. So similar, yet so different. She had the premonition that she would act out, lash out at any nearby living, breathing body, yet to the extent that it was, it shocked her a bit to say the least.
