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.
YOU ARE READING
Hunter
ParanormaleThis 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...