Chapter 252: _ More Babies
As I sat on the cursed wheelchair six days later, I couldn’t stop replaying that special night like a reel, over and over again. As I had done for the past six days, just for the fun of it.
Know what was funny? It was how the entire pack was blaming it all on a non-existent witch. I mean, there was a witch around, but he didn’t even live in the pack.
I bet Rosa was laughing at them all along with me. Because we both knew that this... this wasn’t the work of a witch.
Rosa hadn’t said anything, of course. She knew better than to poke at the hornet’s nest, especially when the hornets were paranoid alphas with too much testosterone and not enough sense. But I caught her eye once, across the courtyard, when one of them declared we were cursed by the moon, and I swear to God, her smirk almost healed my imaginary broken legs.
Still, every time I closed my eyes, I was right back in that night. Savoring the kill, the juice of the fear, and the unending pool of blood.
Life was good.
.
.
There was a certain kind of peace in pretending to be paralyzed—like being at the eye of a storm I had created myself.
I sat motionless in the damned wheelchair, parked by the open window of my little house. The curtains fluttered like old ghosts, and somewhere down the hill, someone was probably being accused of cursing the pack again. Poor bastards. Meanwhile, the real curse was sitting right here—me.
If the pack ever found out, there would be pitchforks and silver bullets and not enough holes for me to crawl into. But they wouldn’t. Because they were idiots. Not that they were any match for me and my master anyway.