Zara
The thought of drinking blood made me nauseous, but the taste—the power it evoked—was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. Don't get me wrong, I didn't mean to go around biting people, but I couldn't deny that part of me enjoyed the taste and the power.
"What do you want, princess?" they hissed in unison, their slick voices swirling around my head and running down my skin in cold waves.
I pulled a small pocket knife from my leggings pocket. Alpha had given it to me when I told him of my plan, assuring me there was no silver in the blade. It was small and inconspicuous, and would do little harm if I actually stabbed someone with it.
I opened it and watched the remnants of sunlight reflect off the blade's shiny metal. The blade was wickedly sharp, as if begging to break my skin.
I pressed the pocket knife to my palm, gritting my teeth, and drew it across my skin. A pained groan escaped my clenched teeth, reminding me of how often the shadows had sounded.
