Page 2 of Dragon Flames
After the first six months, I began fighting back.
The guards get three warnings.
Three chances to get in their blows.
Then their asses are mine.
Don’t get me wrong…I fight back every time, but after the third warning, they die.
Brutally.
With the maximum amount of pain and terror, their screams like music to my ears.
I used to cringe at the violence, but now I crave it like a drug.
Most of the guards in front of me bear scars from our fights. It doesn’t matter that they’re shifters. Over the years, I’ve learned how to be brutal and efficient in my battles.
When they fight me, they don’t get back up again.
Whatever human decency I might have had when I first entered the prison is well and truly gone. I’m more beast than human at this point. Case in point—my fangs and claws are no longer retractable.
Oh, and I can’t shift.
No one knows what beast I harbor under my skin, but whatever it is terrifies the shit out of everyone who gets too close.
I am an anomaly.
I should’ve shifted at puberty, but it never happened.
At twenty-five years old, I am a freak.
They say I’ll never be able to take my beast form.
Unlike them, my beast lives beneath my skin. I don’t need to shift to feel her—she never sleeps, never rests. She’s my constant companion and threatens to drive me insane with her demands. She’s all but feral.
She is also my only companion and friend.
The other prisoners call me Odd. It first started because my prison numbers were all odd—original, I know. But later, they noticed something off about me.
I am a female alpha—something so rare it’s considered a myth.
No one says it out loud.
No one wants to draw my attention.
Even as I glance over at the guards, they lower their eyes, unable to hold my gaze.
And it pisses Lassie, the head guard, the fuck off.
“Arms up!” He barks out the order, the wolf pissed that scum like me is more dominant.
More curious about what they want than anything, I lift my arms in surrender.
One of the younger guards steps forward with a pair of shackles, and I raise my eyebrows in amusement at the poor kid. He instantly stops, the cat’s hair all but standing on end at being the center of my attention. He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing painfully when he speaks. “You have a visitor.”
Everything inside me stills as my beast rears her massive head. Prisoners all around the room immediately scramble for the door, only a curious few remaining, eager for the gossip.
No one visits me.
