His Little Mischief by P. Iversen Samuel

Author:P. Iversen, Samuel
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Independent
Published: 2023-12-25T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

Kill after death. One drop after another of blood on the ground. I was still not satisfied, though. I let my body do the talking, severing the knife mercilessly through one rogue’s stomach and another’s neck. I turn to face Theo and the others, watching them commit the same heinous deeds. As bodies fall to the moist earth, their own wolves take control of their human identities. However, I took care to prevent my wolf from taking over who I am. Otherwise, chaos would erupt. I now recognize that this “war” was only an exercise in fun and games for this pack, so I try to make the most of it. I sigh with delight and squat down to trip the rogue in front of me with my leg. And then a clean swipe across his throat. I wipe the blood off my lip with my hand as I bring it to my face. I let out a satisfied sigh, and a cheeky grin forms at the corners of my lips. Regretfully, I feel like someone is grabbing hold of my hair and pulling me across the damp soil. I seize the attacker’s wrists with one hand. After I got a firm grip on them, I used my free hand to cut it with my knife. The woman grips her damaged hand and yells in pain. I said to her, “Nice finger,” in between panties. Her eyes are filled with tears and she gives me an unfathomable look of anger. These were the repercussions of her decision to enlist in the military. I shoot her a final pitying glance before moving on to the next victim. Despite my labored breathing, I tell Giovanni, “I’m liking the fit.” He gives me a sharp shake of his head. I vowed, lips pursed, that the venom in his vivid honey eyes would be enough to kill a bitch. His wolf grins down at me, his clothes splattered with blood. He appeared not in the least weary. Before spotting another wolf to prey on, he comments, “I must say your hair is on a way other level, though,” one last time. I let out a sigh and raise my hand to scratch my head, only to find a tangled mess there. I gulp and murmur, “Disgusti—.” to myself. I felt an arm come around me, and I knew right away who it was. Theo rests my head slightly under his chin on his chest. I cannot dispute the solace it provided for me. “Be cautious,” he tells me. There’s a ‘thump’ on the floor next to us, and I squint my eyes at the outlaw. The flesh that should have covered his heart has been replaced by a hole. And I believed myself to be savage. I yell, “Hey, that was not nice—,” as I slam his chest. Even when he turns us around, he holds my head firmly against his chest. I peel myself away from him and watch Theo, who has his hand tightly gripped on another adversary.

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