THE AWAKENING

Cassandra shrieked as she was grabbed by two sets of rough hands. A man with a deeply scarred face came into view. He was
definitely a werewolf, she could sense it.
He smiled into her face, knuckling her cheek with interest as he gazed openly at her, as if assessing her worth. He sniffed at her
neck and drew away with a curl of his lip.
He shot a dark look at Cristophe who was helpless to move with the wood in his shoulder. “Your scent is all over her. Why?” He
appeared puzzled by the mystery but soon moved on. “No matter. She will cycle again...soon. And I plan to plant my seed in her
belly.” He gripped her chin harshly. “You will whelp my son — and my son will rule the world.”
“I will kill you, wolf,” Cristophe snarled. “If you take her, you will have a price on your head. Every vampire, and your rival clan,
will make it their mission to stop you from breeding. The prophecy must not come to fruition!”
“Be silent bloodsucker. Your days of subjugating my kind are over.” He motioned to the men gripping her tightly. “Bring the
Breeder. I wish to sample her quivering little cunt before her cycle begins.”
Cassandra cast a helpless glance at Cristophe but there was little he could do to stop the wolves from Lichek’s clan from carting
her off.
Her only hope remained with Jandin and Koris finding her before it was too late.
Cassandra landed on the thin carpet floor with an ass-bruising thud that felt as if it’d jarred her teeth from her jaw as the rangy
bunch of men circled around her, their noses twitching with barely restrained excitement, and she swallowed a thick lump of fear.
They looked hungry, their canines too long in their mouths, as if they’d only partially returned to their human form after their last
transformation and their snouts were elongated.
Cassandra tried not to recoil in fear but her skin crawled at the lecherous gleam in their amber eyes. It was no secret what they
wanted to do to her.
Her mind was spinning with everything that had happened to her in the last twenty-four hours. And to think, last week she’d been
worried about how to pay her credit card bill.
Now, that seemed a ridiculous worry when faced with being some supreme breeder who rival werewolf clans were willing to kill
to possess.

“She doesn’t smell like a Breeder,” one whined, eyeing her with distaste. “All I smell is that blood sucker’s seed on her. It stinks
and makes me what to puke. Are you sure she’s The One?”
“Yes,” the scarred one said with a dark scowl as he motioned to a cluster of women. “Arja, take her and wash that filth from her
body. I want her to be clean when I fuck her.”
Cassandra shrieked as her arm was nearly ripped from its socket as she was jerked to her feet by one of the men and thrust at
the woman. Cassandra stumbled as she landed in the woman’s arms.
“Come Breeder,” Arja said, tugging at her arm. “I will show you where to bathe.”
Cassandra followed Arja, a petite woman with a subtle limp in her gait, down a dim, dingy hallway that stank of mildew and
things best left unnamed.
Cassandra gave the air around her a delicate sniff and shuddered as the faint scent of death teased her nostrils with its cloying
sweetness. “Who are you?” she asked. “What clan are you?”
Arja cast a reproachful glance Cassandra’s way before pushing open a door that protested loudly on old hinges. “The bath isn’t
much to look at but there’s warm running water, which is more than we’ve had in the past. Get undressed and I’ll scrub you
down.”
“I can wash myself, thank you,” Cassandra said stiffly, glancing around the dirty, scum-crusted tub with open horror. It was filthy.
She doubted she’d manage to become any cleaner in that thing. She expected Arja to close the door behind her but she
stubbornly remained, ignoring Cassandra’s declaration.
Cassandra glared but Arja didn’t budge. “Come on...this is ridiculous. I can wash myself.”
“You smell of vampire lust. If you don’t get every drop of his seed from your skin, Ulster will beat me. I’m sorry but I’m not willing
to take the chance.” Arja bent down and pulled a mean looking scrub brush from under the cabinet. She eyed it with grim
satisfaction as she pushed her lanky brown hair from her eyes. “This ought to do the trick.”
Cassandra surely must’ve paled because she felt the blood leave her cheeks at the sight of that horrid thing. “I-I don’t think that’s
sanitary...I could get sick...and then where would the prophecy be?”
“Human sickness does not touch us. It’s one of the reasons our life expectancy is much longer than humans. You should know
that. Now, strip before Ulster sends one of his men to do it for you. Trust me,” she warned in a low tone “you don’t want that to

happen. They’re all yipping at the chance to touch the prophesied one. You don’t look like you can handle what they’d do to you.”
Cassandra stripped with shaking fingers, taking Arja’s warning at face value.
There was something about the woman that spoke of truth. Arja caught Cassandra’s gaze wandering to her gimpy left leg and
she said, “I am not a Breeding female,” she said by way of explanation.
“What do you mean?”
“I cannot carry pups beyond a certain point in the pregnancy.”
“Then how did you get pregnant?” Cassandra asked, confused and concerned for the diminutive woman.
“Ulster found a witch to spell the women in the clan, to force a Breeding female to emerge. And it worked...at first. Until we
realized, our bodies kept rejecting the pups. It was as if our wombs were poison. Ulster took the miscarriages as a sign that we’d
brought it upon ourselves somehow and we were punished.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Cassandra cried out softly, feeling the women’s failure as if it were a physical thing. “That’s barbaric.”
Arja shrugged. “Ulster was trying to save the clan. We haven’t had a true Breeder in too long. Not since...your mother.”
“You knew my mother?”
“I was young when she was here but she was kind. And beautiful. Like you.” Arja lowered her voice and glanced around
surreptitiously to add, “You must be wary of Ulster. When your mother left the clan to be your father, Ulster went into a rage and
tried to stop her. His face is scarred because your father nearly ripped it off when he discovered Ulster beating her. He hates
your bloodline, even if you are the Prophesied One.”
“Then why did he bring me here?” Cassandra asked, a chill chasing her spine.
Arja lifted woeful eyes to Cassandra’s and murmured, “Nothing good, I suspect. If I were less of a coward, I’d help you to
escape. But he will kill me. I’m sorry.”
“Leave with me,” Cassandra said impulsively, gripping Arja’s cold hands. “There’s nothing for you here. Come with me. The men
in the other clan aren’t like Ulster. They’re kind and generous. They would take you in, I’m sure of it.”

“You do not know our ways. Our clans have been warring since the beginning of time it seems. The hatred for one another is
imprinted on our DNA, branded on our souls. They would tear me apart for daring to step foot in their territory.”
“That’s not true. Why would they do that?”
“Because it’s what we do.”