Author: Lora Leigh
Category: Paranormal
Go to read content：https://readnovelfree.com/p/23990_4
She felt restrained. She stared into the darkness, feeling the metal restraints cutting into her flesh, her blood seeping from her, agony resonating through her thighs, her stomach, as a stark red haze met her vision and a feline scream tried to tear from her throat.
She jerked upright, sightless, fighting to breathe, fighting to see what she couldn’t see, to remember what she refused to remember. To breathe. Hands clenched on her flesh, fingers dug into the muscle, and laughter, always the laughter echoed in her head.
“Dawn’s rising soon. It won’t be dark any longer.”
The soft, sweetly pitched voice whispered through the room as Dawn came from beneath the blankets in a surge of violent fury, crouched and snarling, feeling her lips peel back from her canines as she prepared to attack.
The enemy sat curled in the chair across the room, a long linen gown shrouding her figure, her waist long, pitch black curls framing her heart-shaped face, and her eyes eerie, brilliant blue glowing points in the darkness of the room.
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It took Dawn a moment to realize that her weapon, never far from her side, was trained between the child’s eyes. Her finger was trembling on the trigger, sweat pouring from her body, dampening the thin tank top and gray boxer panties she wore as she shivered in reaction.
The chill of the air conditioner washed over her flesh, sending a harsh shudder racing through her body as Cassie Sinclair stared at the weapon.
“You shouldn’t have to wake in the dark alone,” Cassie said gently, reaching out to turn on the light by the chair. Dawn flinched at the movement.
Growls vibrated in her throat, and a distant part of her screamed out in horror at the animal that had pushed ahead of her and stared at the kid with ruthless savagery.
She had to fight back the rage, the memories that weren’t memories, that screamed in her head and refused to show themselves. The ones that the animal, determined to survive, refused to let the woman confront.
“Dash.” The word was savage, guttural. “Where’s Dash?”
The girl’s father should never have allowed her there alone. He should watch after his daughter better, rather than allowing her to slip into a room with a beast that could already taste blood.
A single tear slipped down Cassie’s cheek as her lips trembled. But there was no fear. No scent of terror, just of pain, compassion. And Dawn hated it.
She forced the weapon down. She forced herself to ease out of the crouch, but she couldn’t force back the screams echoing in her head. A child’s screams, an animal’s screams, horrific in their terror and pain.
“Dad is still asleep,” the girl said gently, her hand moving to indicate a tray that sat on a nearby table. There was a steaming pot there, two cups. “I thought we’d have some hot chocolate before you had to get ready and begin your day, Dawn. I didn’t want you to have to wake alone this morning.”
“Are you fucking crazy!” Dawn stared at the girl, well, young woman, really. Cassie wasn’t a precocious child any longer. She was eighteen and still eerie as hell. “Don’t you know better than this, Cassie?” She slapped her weapon to the bedside table as she collapsed on the side of the bed and stared back at her in horror. “I could have fucking killed you.”
Cassie shrugged. “Death isn’t that scary, Dawn. And better your bullet than a Coyote’s rage, yes?”
Eighteen. Cassie was fucking eighteen. A baby. Innocent, sheltered and protected since the moment the Wolf Breed Dash Sinclair had found her and her mother in the middle of a freak blizzard and rescued them from the monsters chasing them ten years ago.
She was still a virgin. She had never been wounded, slapped, beaten or raped. And she spoke more casually of death than any mature, lab-raised Breed ever had.
Dawn jerked her shirt from the floor and wiped the sweat from her face before running the jersey material over her damp hair and shoulders. She needed a moment, just a moment, to get herself under control.
“I brought hot chocolate.” Cassie uncurled herself slowly from the chair and moved like a wraith, like the ghosts it was said she spoke to, to the small table by a window.
She poured two mugs of the sweet, rich brew, turned back slowly and set one on the table beside Dawn. Dawn’s hands were shaking so badly, the effects of the nightmare still so much a part of her, that she couldn’t have held the mug if she’d had to.
Cassie retreated back to her chair, sat down and curled her legs under her once more. She was so tiny, Dawn thought. Barely five-three, delicate. She had so much damned hair flowing around her that sometimes Dawn wondered how she held her head up.
Dawn ran her fingers through her own short locks. She kept them hacked off. If her hair wasn’t long then there was nothing for the enemy to grip. To hold her down with. A woman with long hair might as well extend an invitation to every bastard out there that would hurt her. Hold her down. Force her.
Bile rose in her throat.
“A new day is beginning,” Cassie said, looking toward the still-dark window. “Today will begin a new adventure.” A small, sad smile shaped her lips as she turned back to Dawn. “Every day is an adventure though, isn’t it?”
“Is that what you call it?” Dawn snorted as she glanced at her, slowly finding the control she had fought for so desperately over the years.
“Mom and Dad always give me the same look when I tell them that.” Cassie’s lips tilted in a strange, knowing smile. “Kenton rolls his eyes at me.” Kenton was her brother, barely nine, but already showing the advanced intelligence and strength of a Breed child.
“Cassie, now isn’t a good time.” Dawn sighed roughly. “I need to shower and get some things done.”
Cassie stared down at her own drink, steam rising from the cup as her lips tilted in saddened resignation. “I hear that a lot too.”