Page 32 of Cosmic Power

The werewolf shifter narrowed his golden eyes. “Of course I looked properly. What, do you think I’m an idiot or something? If she was here, or had even been here momentarily, I would have detected her scent. There’s nothing. I even checked with a couple of friends I know who are still loyal to me, and they know nothing about her.”

Luther snarled and stepped forward, intent on checking for himself. He knew he shouldn’t have trusted Void with something so important.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up.” Void palmed Luther’s chest and tried to push him back.

It didn’t work.

Luther continued to walk forward as if Void wasn’t even in front of him.

“Stop, you can’t-will you stop!” Void barked. “You even try to go near that Ward and every single shifter in Barnabas’ pack will be on us in seconds,” he hissed.

“My Lord, perhaps we should heed his warning. We are unequipped to handle such a force right now,” Axel interjected, his face calm, though Luther could hear the unease in his voice.

“Yes. Heed my warning.” Void planted his feet harder into the ground, but it made no difference. Luther marched forward, pushing Void along. “If we get captured or killed, there’s no one left to get Zamorra back. You need to listen to me.”

Luther stopped. Void’s words were penetrating through the angry haze in his mind. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, the shifter was right.

“Fine,” he gritted out between clenched teeth. He batted Void’s hands off his chest and straightened his spine. “We’ll return to our base and devise a new plan. Axel, remain here. I want to know the second Barnabas returns.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Axel leapt into the air and perched himself on a thick branch high in an oak tree above them.

Luther pointed to Ophelia and Void. “You two—”

“Don’t even bother trying to order me around. You ain’t the boss of me,” Void cut in.

“Then stay here, for all I care. Ophelia, let’s go.” Luther blurred away, heading back for the elderly humans’ home. He didn’t give a fuck if Void followed.

ChapterEight

Zamorra thumped her head against the stone wall. Fuck, she was bored. So, so bored. It had never occurred to her that imprisonment could be so fucking boring! Though it probably should have.

She wasn’t even sure how long she’d been stuck in this stupid cell for. It felt like weeks, but she knew that couldn’t be right. Time felt a little warped when stuck in a ten-by-eight cell with no one to talk to.

The fact that she couldn’t communicate with her werewolf made the entire thing even worse.

All her life she’d been there with Zamorra, every step of the way, experiencing everything alongside her, and now…now she was alone. Truly alone for the first time in her life.

She didn’t fucking like it.

“What I wouldn’t give for a fucking phone right now,” Zamorra muttered. “Shit, I’d take a deck of cars, a yoyo or even a damn bouncy ball at this point,” she huffed, and got to her feet.

Where the fuck was Barnabas? That asshole. He claimed he’d brought her here to finish some grand master plan of his, and fuck if that didn’t make her curious as all hell.

Surely if he planned to breed her with someone, he would have done it already. If that wasn’t what he wanted her for, then what the fuck did he want? The uncertainty of the whole thing was killing her. What other possible use could he have for her?

“Maybe he’s just batshit crazy. A little cuckoo for coco puffs. Who isn’t these days? I mean, look at me, standing here talking to myself like it’s completely normal. Maybe it is the new normal.”

Anxiety wafted off her, and Zamorra began to pace. She felt like a wild animal who was caged and restless. “Back and forth, back and forth, around and around I go. Where do I stop? Nobody knows.”

On and on Zamorra ranted, speaking absolute nonsense to herself and the three solid walls surrounding her. Her voice echoed out through the iron bars and into the hallway outside her cell.

She was used to having someone to talk to all the time. And even though she knew her werewolf couldn’t talk back, Zamorra continued on as if she could.

“I wonder if it’s possible to die of boredom. Part of me thinks yes, because I honestly think that if I’m left in here much longer, I’ll lose my fucking mind. And what good am I if I’ve cracked it, right? Might as well be dead at that point. I could label it ‘Death by Boredom’.” Zamorra nodded. “Hmm, it’s got a nice ring to it. But, what if—”

“Oh, for fucksake, would you just shut up?! Jesus Christ, you’re giving me a fucking headache!”

Zamorra stilled. She looked up at the ceiling. “God, is that you?” she breathed sarcastically, masking her complete and utter fucking surprise at hearing another voice for the first time in hours.

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