Book Three in the Gifted Series 👉 THIS is a sequel, you cannot read this without reading Book One...but you can skip book two.
Family's important, yeah? Blood thicker than water and all that shit, right? From my experience, Family can go one of...
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Eyes screwed shut. Rage burned like a motherfucker as I hissed out a breath, drawing in a breath around the pain slicing across my chest.
I needed to keep my shit together, under control.
My lids slowly opened to meet my reflection. DuPonte had thought it was a great idea to have a mirror erected a few feet about the bed so I could watch first hand the sick-fuck Calder torture me.
And oh, how he was having fun. Every slice, Every crack of a bone had him smiling and shining in ways that wasn't normal, hell I wasn't even sure if he was human.
And blood.
So much blood.
My fucking blood.
Catching my breath, Calder frowned as he stood with the scalpel in his hand. My blood dripped from its blade.
"Explain What is happening here, Calder?" DuPonte growled, shifting closer to the bed. Within reach if I wasn't being held down by this fucking collar.
My top lip curled up. It looked like the quick death he wanted wasn't happening. Not that the fuckers weren't trying. But the harder they tried, the quicker I healed.
What was up with that?
Not that I would complain.
But what it didn't stop was the pain. I felt every cut, slice and opening of my veins. Although I was thankful they'd not tried to cut off my dick or some other crazy shit. I would rather lose a hand than my dick.
I glared at DuPonte. "What!?" I spat out a mouthful of blood. "Am I fucking up your day, yeah?" I chuckled, but fuck me, it hurt my lungs.
His immense figure towered over me, his menacing shadow casting me in gloom. His dead irises looked right at me. Nostrils flaring. "Don't worry Mr Stone. I can assure you. You will die today."
I raised an eyebrow. "Odds don't look in your favour, wanker."
My eyes followed a figure striding past us. The bitch. She gave me a sidelong glance, whispering in her sickly sweet tone, "Can't we just rip out his heart?"
Ah, motherly love at its finest.
Close enough, Elaine stared at me shrewdly, taking in my eyes. Reflected on the surface of her own, I saw my eyes were no longer brown, but looked black, which only happened when I was about to shift, or I sensed Sage's wolf.
Head tilting. "No one can survive without a heart," she mused, with a little too much enthusiasm. "Even you, my son."
Son? Was she having a laugh? "You really have no conscience, do you?"
"Oh, Hunter." She stroked her finger down my cheek. "Trust me, I have a conscience. A very clean one." Her lips lifted in amusement. "I haven't used it once."
