VERA
"Mistress, you are doing it again."
Sharon's voice snapped out of my reverie and I glanced down. I saw my hands were curled into tight fists and my nails were buried deep into my skin.
Down each of my arms were four long angry red marks, deep enough to glisten with tiny droplets of blood. Forcing my fingers open, I grimaced at the sight of bits of skin and crusted blood underneath my fingernails.
"Here, mistress. Use this," Sharon said nervously.
Shooting her a glare, I snatched the handkerchief she offered me. As I dabbed at the spots of blood on my arm, I glanced at other scratches on my arm which were just beginning to scab over.
This was all that bitch's fault, I thought furiously. She had reduced me to this.
First, she had shown off at the council meeting with her little speech about showing support for White Claw and everyone had been so damn impressed by her.
