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26 - Change Of Plans
SareeOhh snaps!
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Flying Death 27 - Honor Your Word
~Hazel’s Point of View~ “Hey girl, sorry I’ve been kind of a mute for awhile,” I say, as I pull my hair up into a high ponytail. “Your mom texted me about the bees! Haze holy shit! I’m so glad you’re okay,” Ginny says, in her overly dramatic voice. Our moms are on the bowling team together and we’d always been so close before I got sent away to that stupid school. My heart sinks thinking about all the crazy shit I need to tell her, and I realize I have no idea what’s going on in her life. I should have called her while I was just laying in bed hurt and feeling sorry for myself. “Hey uhm, what are you doing for dinner? Wanna pick me up,” I say, looking down at my all black romper and feeling kind of cute. I’m a lot more healed and even my stupid lazy eye isn’t so bad. “Yeeees! I can be over in five,” she says, with a trill to her voice. I cringe. “Oh uhm, about that. I’m actually… At the packhouse,” I admit, since I didn’t want to leave today. That’ll be a bit more of a drive for
Flying Death 28 - Space
~Punch’s Point of View~ Mick roars through me, sprouting fur in different places when her name comes out of his mouth. My instinct is to look at Dozer but I can’t. My wolf won’t let me as he takes over my eyes. The donkey with the mic says something else as the crowd goes wild. I was going to try and play this just enough for the bookies to make their money. For our pack to make their money. But he had to say her name. He doesn’t even know what he just did. So he thinks this fight is for Hazel? Is THAT the bullshit his father fed him?? I can only laugh, especially when my face was buried in her pussy last night. When it was MY name being screamed out of her lips. When her naked, soft and warm body was in my arms this morning. When she’s begging for me every time she opens her mouth. When it’s my cock that will be pounding her virgin heat tonight. Yeah I’ll have to wear a rubber until she gets her wolf, but after that… we’re making babies. She won’t even remember this fuck’s name
Flying Death 29 - It Has To Be
~Hazel’s Point of View~ When Hector’s head hits the platform, I involuntarily cover my mouth and look away. Travis looks possessed right now, he looks so intense it makes my stomach heave. He gets off on this? On hurting people like this? The deafening thud of his skull cracking off the floor echoes through my bones. How… How and why is Travis like this? He’s calm, he’s collected. Not in the least bit phased by the blood, the broken bones. He’s the Reeve, Hazel. Remember what he said to you. He thinks his heart is black. Maybe it is. How the hell could I want to mate a male like this? Have pups?? He belongs in a psych ward in a straight jacket! I grip the thick curtain that reeks of smoke and a heavy musty odor, as tears roll down my face, completely soaking my t-shirt. Am I crying for Hector or for the black heart of my mate? When I close my eyes only regret hits me. Absolute regret for coming here. I suddenly feel like I’m a foot tall, lost in a sea of absolute chaos. When the
Flying Death 30 - Don't Look
~Punch’s Point of View~ I stare at the brilliant crescent moon as the world whizzes by. Good people, safe in their homes. Believing that this place is safe, it’s a haven for their families. That the almighty Flying Death are their fierce protectors. I’ve never really had the “what does it all mean” bullshit swirl in my brain. But tonight couldn’t possibly be more unlike any other night. How I went from feeling completely untouchable, completely on top of the world to feeling more lost than ever… I’m still trying to grasp. The rumble of the truck beneath me reminds me I’m not alone, though I feel as if I’m floating so far off that I doubt anyone can bring me back. Fingers drives at a calm and average pace through our territory, trying to act normal. Nothing like his usual mad dash of driving as though he’s in a monster truck show. Normal, tsk. *You okay brother,* Shock asks, over mind-link. He’s in the truck with Fingers and it took both of them to rip me away from Red’s mangled
Flying Death 31 - Tabs
~Punch’s Point of View~ I quickly cut the ties on Nina’s wrists and ankles before dropping the knife in the van and heaving her out. No way am I gonna fucking carry her again. “Walk,” I demand, and push her. “Don’t do this Travis, the Flying Death don’t kill females,” Hazel shouts, and then I feel her knuckles punch my back. “Then leave, nobody is making you stay,” I say, but keep pushing Nina toward the water. There’s a couple cinder blocks and rope that we left here just in case, and I can use those to weigh her down. I tell myself all the obvious things: she deserves this, the world is better off. Literally, nobody will miss her. “Mick! Don’t let him do this,” Hazel shouts, her voice echoing off the water. I laugh. “He has no idea what this female has done to me, what she’s put me through. He wasn’t there to know how fucking bad it was to live with the shit choices she made. Year after year, I was never her priority. I was NEVER put first,” I shout. Nina begins to pull
Flying Death 32 - Confessions
~Hazel’s Point of View~ “Girl I’m so glad you’re okay,” Ginny yawns, half asleep. I glare at the clock because it’s now 8:30am and I haven’t slept. The house is way too quiet and I have no clue if my father is alive or not. I want to believe Travis doesn’t know. He didn’t act like he knew. “But I don’t know where my parents are, or anything. Did anybody die,” I question. If she doesn’t know, surely her man does. “Heath says nobody knows anything,” she says, sighing. When we finally hang up, I get in the shower then make some toast. I’m so mentally drained that I can barely function when I collapse on the couch. “Hazel? Hey sweetie, time to wake up,” I hear, as I practically jump out of my skin. My eyes pop open to see Missile, hovering over me. I puff out some hot air and fall back onto the couch. “Doorbell much,” I snap, annoyed. He smiles and sits at the end of the couch, picking up my legs and putting them on his lap like it's a common thing he does all the time. No mal
Flying Death 33 - Gesture
~Punch’s Point of View~ ~One Month Later~ “I look like a fucking clown,” I groan, making a face in the mirror. That’s a testament to my current clothing debacle but it’s also a result of me not getting much sleep lately. I don’t think I’ve slept more than two or three hours a night in weeks. “I assure you, you look hot as hell. If you weren’t a teenager…” the female groans, licking her lips at me. My stomach flips and not in a good way. She’s pushing 50 and clearly not taking very good care of herself. For someone who probably works on commission she definitely shouldn’t be smoking at work. She reeks like she just put something out seconds ago. Pressing my lips together, I turn to get my side profile. The sales girl holds up some shoes that I know for a fact I will never wear. *This is the one,* Mick says, nodding his approval. I run my hand through my hair and sigh. How did I get talked into this? A whole month has gone by without Hazel in my bed, without her touches. Pathetic
Flying Death 34 - Notice
~Hazel's Point of View~ ~Prom Night~ When I first take a look at myself in the mirror, more dressed up than I’d ever been, a warm feeling of approval falls over me. I feel like a princess, I just need some serious bling. Then just as quickly, the feeling is gone and replaced with nothing but a cold breeze. There’s no amount of shiny things, make up or primping that can fix it. My eyes move to the open window and for a moment I contemplate jumping out of it. Ripping all this fabric from my body so I don’t feel confined. A year ago I loved nothing more than shopping. Getting dolled up. Trying to look my best in case a hot male crossed my path. Going to the prom was high on my bucket list, though you can’t go until at least your third year. Junior and Senior prom. Meaning, no pups usually. I’ll be like one of a small handful that haven’t shifted. But what’s the point of getting all fancy if I have literally nobody to show off too? No male to embrace me, to tell me I’m beautiful. No m
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