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SEVEN
ELENA’s POV
When I was young, probably around three to four, father would perch me on his broad shoulders and run around our little wooden house as I flapped my hands in the air. I’d imagine myself a bird, soaring free and high in the sky.
I remember how happy I had been then. My lips would curl up so high they would reach the corners of my eyes. Such was the joy of our simple game. I’d always ask for ‘just one more time’ and though father was weary from work, he never failed to indulge in me. Father worked hard for all of us, and now the time has come for me to take the burden from him.
“You?” One of the man from Blood Stone pack laughs. He is probably the leader. An eyebrow arches high as he looks me up and down, not sure what to make of my offer. I guess volunteering is not a common thing.
“Yes, take me. Leave my sister alone,” I say with resolute, trying to hide the fear in my voice. From
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