"Shoot her!" My father's voice boomed out.
"Sir?" A kid's shocked voice responded.
"I gave you a direct order. I don't know how much clearer I can be." My father said, irritation oozing out. A shot rang out into the silent night, pain radiated in my right thigh inches above my kneecap. I bite my tongue to hold in my cries and force my eyes to stare unmoving at the sparkling night sky. The moon was far behind me and not for the first time tonight. I wish I could catch just a small glimpse of it. My fingers begin to curl and uncurl against the burning silver against my flesh, holding me to the pole.
Rica, I need a distraction I mutter when I feel I might pass out from the pain. Suddenly images of the world begin to flash through my head. Pictures from my books tucked away under my small mattress. Memories of lives I have never lived, colorful food and faces transport me to another world and away from the pain radiating throughout my body.
Let me help, Anala Rica, my wolf, begs erasing the pain-free images and replacing them with her thoughts of my father lying cold and dead on top of piles of bodies.
Ulrica, I will never do that. I harshly say, using her full name. I feel her annoyance hit me like a tidal pool and quickly shrug off the guilt it brought.
"Not bad kid, now aim a little lower. Yes! Aim for her knees if she can't walk, she can't fight." My father approves.
Wanna bet, es stercus!" Ulrica growled in my head, and I wrinkle my nose. [Es stercus - Latin for 'you shit']
Another shot sounded, and I feel my left kneecap explode, searing white pain makes me breathe in a soft gasp. I quickly grit my teeth already fearing the worst.
SHIT! BITCH! YOU UNMUZZLED ONION-EYED GIGLET! Ulrica growls, and I lose myself in the many other choice words she sprouts. I blink hard but continue to stare at the sky.
"That's my man, Jaime!" My father laughs, pride in his voice, "I told you we would get your straightened out in no time, right?" He asked, and the kid, Jaime, laughs in delight, and I let out a small sigh of relief.
He didn't hear my slip up I think to Rica
"Can I try again?" Jamie eagerly asked, and I couldn't help but wince. I wanted to beg for them to stop to give me a little bit more time to heal before the morning comes. But I know that it won't help. If I let any sound escape, there would be no question I would spend a night in the cell. No question about the amount of pain I would receive above all of this training.
Just shoot me in the head ...please I whimper softly to myself. But even I could tell that was a lie. I don't want death, not really.
"I don't see why not?" My father bursts. My heart falls deep in my stomach, I brace myself for another shot to ring out, but it's replaced with an empty CLICK. I jerk my eyes to the two men two miles away from me. They both glance at the gun and my father chuckles.
"You should always keep track of how many bullets you have." He playfully scolded, and I could see a tinge of red sprout on the young boy's cheeks in the pale moonlight. He mutters a pitiful 'sorry' and goes to the table behind them, littered with all types of guns and bullets.
"I think that's enough target practice for today." A smooth, husky voice chuckles, the two men jerk their head to the side. I keep my eyes trained on the boy, his hand inches away from another magazine loaded with fresh bullets. Xander, the Alpha's son, comes into view and he places a hand on Jamie's shoulder.
"Your mom is looking for you. She's grumbling on about movie nights." Xander jokes, and Jamie's face instantly morphs into a look of horror.
"Oh, crap! I forgot mom wanted to start another family tradition! Shoot!" He slaps his hand to his forehead.
YOU ARE READING
The Queen of the Prey
Werewolf"Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked Xander, my voice void of any emotions. I was in my warrior stance in front of the whole pack. Back straight, hands folded in front of me and feet shoulder-width apart. I know I looked composed because that...
