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Chapter 13
“Francis,” I say peeking my head through my bedroom door. He walks over and comes out to the hallway.
“Pansy,” I say handing him the cup. He takes it from me, bringing it to his nose and scrunching it in distaste.
“It smells so sour. How would he not notice?”
“I think he has been drinking it for a while. He's not consuming enough to kill him or anything. But definitely enough to disorient him and make it harder to control his wolf.”
“Ok. Does he need an antidote or something?” Francis asks, looking concerned.
“I’m sure he will be fine after a couple of hours of sleep. I need to figure out where it came from.”
“Look at you, not even sworn in and still taking care of him” Fran
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My words are harsh. I am aiming to hurt him, though. His words hit me hard and when I get hit, I hit back harder. I was a rogue once. I was innocent and so were my parents. My uncle did something unspeakable in our old pack and instead of facing the consequences, my parents and I were stripped of our Beta title. Our wolves were ripped from us, forever gone with a tincture of wolfsbane and magic. After living as slaves for a year, my mother could no longer handle the beatings, so we ran. The shots rang out in the woods almost as loud as the dull thud of the silver bullets embedding themselves in my parents’ bodies. The silver bullets were overkill considering our wolves were gone, but they didn’t care. They wanted them dead. Though me, they left to the mercy of the forest. His chest heaves up and down in anger, but his eyes stay true to their usual green. I can see the hurt there, and I feel a pang of satisfaction mixed with guilt. Though
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