Page 66 of Cosmic Power

A small chuckle echoed into the hallway and Zamorra smiled. Well, at least she managed to make the demon laugh at least once. She was a tough nut to crack; all surly and shit.

The steel door to their prison opened. Zamorra could hear the sound of the metal scrapping across the ground all the way from her cell.

This was it. They were coming for her. For them.

Footsteps thudded down the hallway and then there he was, standing in front of her cell. Her so-called father.

It appeared he had dressed for the occasion, wearing a sharp blue three-piece suit with a dark tie. His silver hair was styled neatly, not a single hair out of place.

“On your feet, youngin. It’s time to go.”

Zamorra stayed where she was. Why should she make it easy on them? “Come and get me.”

“Don’t be a petulant child,” he sighed, exasperated. “You have a chance to go down in history. To have everyone know who you are; your name etched into the ages. I’m giving you a chance to do something meaningful with your life. Why squander such a wonderful gift?”

“If it’s so bloody wonderful, why don’t you do it then? Or how about Mathias or Braeden? We all share the blood of an Original—or so you claim. Why did you hunt me for my entire life when you had what you needed right in front of you anyway? Seems like an enormous waste of time, in my opinion.”

He straightened the lapels of his jacket. “They’re my sons. I love them.”

Zamorra read between the lines. “And I’m a stranger.”

“You have your mother to blame for that. Perhaps if you had grown up here, where you belong, we might not be in this situation.”

She ran her eyes over him, a calculating look on her face. “No. I have a feeling we would be in exactly the same place regardless. Whether it be me or one of the two standing at your side. This was always going to happen. I just drew the short straw.”

He shrugged a shoulder. “Maybe, maybe not. We’ll never know. Now get up.”

She smirked and leaned back, crossing her legs at the ankles. “Like I said, Barney, come and fucking get me.”

Anger flashed across the Alpha’s face briefly before he managed to compose himself. “Iris,” he snapped.

The small brown-haired woman stepped into view and Zamorra cursed.

Before she even had a chance to think, Iris lobbed a ball of powerful white magic straight at her and it smacked her in the face, making her grunt in pain.

She tried to fight the darkness quickly flooding her vision, but it was no use. The last thing she saw was the three silver-haired shifters stepping into her cell, excitement and anticipation on their faces.

* * *

Zamorra groanedas she opened her eyes, her head pounding like a jackhammer and her mouth as dry as the Sahara Desert. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear the fog from her vision as she slowly lifted her head.

That fucking mage.She was really starting to fucking hate her.

She licked her dry lips and winced when pain shot through her body—a deep, burning pain that was all too familiar to her. She looked down and yep; her wrists and ankles were being bound to the chair by thick iron cuffs.

Her eyes flashed silver and power flooded her body.

You’re back,Zamorra breathed with relief.

Yes, now try to get free,her werewolf growled, releasing more and more power inside Zamorra.

Her skin buzzed. Her body tingled. Her heart pumped so fast she could hear it in her ears as it worked hard to filter the immense power flowing through her. Zamorra strained, trying as hard as she could to break the cuffs, despite the painful burning of her flesh.

It’s not working—

Try harder, her werewolf snarled, pushing against her skin. She wanted to shift, to be free, toget out, but the iron strapped around Zamorra’s body prevented her from the shift she so desperately wanted.

“It’s no use, youngin,you’ll never be able to break free.”

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