Pride's Run Read Online Free PDF Page A

and there is nothing I can do to prevent those mixed
emotions from slashing the barrier shielding my control. The second
I give in to my animal impulses and unleash the wildness inside me,
my nails begin to elongate and I can feel my wolf itching. She’s
waiting for me to give her the command to shift. Run.
    Kill.
    “Easy, Pride,” Mario warns. He hooks a chain
to my collar and gives it a good hard jerk, a reminder that
shifting while leashed comes with a harsh price.
    The cannon thunders in the distance at the
exact same moment the handler’s words snap me back to reality, and
my survival instincts kick in full force. I briefly pinch my eyes
shut to help shake off the tantalizing call of the wild and search
for a measure of control.
    “Let’s go,” he says and I somehow manage to
put one foot in front of the other while he leads me through the
courtyard toward the kitchen entrance. With my head down I stare at
the leafy blades of grass and the drying morning dew as we walk
past the others. I ignore the two new competitors who cross in
front of me. I don’t want to see their faces. I don’t want to meet
their eyes. And I definitely don’t want to know if they’re aware of
my fate, whatever that might be.
    Once inside the estate a blast of cool air
helps clear my rattled brain. I’m led through the kitchen to a
windowless bathroom near the pantry. Mario waits outside and I
close the door tightly behind me. As soon as I’m alone I let loose
a long slow breath and wrap my fingers around the pedestal sink. I
squeeze the cool porcelain until my knuckles turn white and my
joints ache in protest.
    I tip my head and spend a long time staring
at my reflection in the vanity mirror, trying to figure out what it
is about me that might have the master thinking I’m quality
breeding stock. Not only am I too thin, my lips are too big, my
cheekbones too high, and my dark eyes, which showcase unattractive
smudges of sleeplessness beneath them, look so stark against my
light hair.
    I stand there well past my allotted time, and
when I hear Mario growing restless in the hallway, I turn on the
tap and splash my face with icy cold water. After washing up, I
pull open the door and follow my handler back into the large,
modern kitchen.
    The scent of coffee teases my nostrils as we
approach. We’re not supposed to have caffeine but sometimes Mica
slips me a small cup. I especially love the hazelnut-flavored
beans, and could easily become addicted to the caramelized
brew.
    I drop down into one of the hard chairs,
plant my elbows on the long oaken table and stare straight ahead at
Mica. Dressed in a flared floral skirt and crisp white blouse
tucked at the waist, she stands on the other side of the spacious
room with her back to me as she fusses about with a loaf of
stubborn bread. She gives the metal pan a good hard tap with her
wooden spoon, and I watch Mario flinch as the sound echoes that of
the starting gun outside.
    A burst of warm air rushes inside when the
side door opens and both Jace and Clover are led into the kitchen.
Looking worn and tired they keep their heads down as Lawrence herds
them back to the cellar.
    Once they’re out of sight, Mario steps up to
Mica. They exchange a few words, keeping their voices low to
prevent me from listening in with my exceptional hearing. A moment
later Mica brings me a feast of fresh bread, butter, fruit, and
bacon and eggs cooked the way I like them. Too bad I no longer have
an appetite. Manners aside, I tear off a piece of warm bread and
force myself to eat, because I somehow know that in the coming
days, I’m going to need my strength.
    Lacking her usual cheeriness, Mica moves
about the kitchen and I don’t question the peculiar way she’s
avoiding me. Clearly, she knows what my master’s big surprise is
and if it’s upsetting her this much, then I know it can’t be good
for me.
    Could he really want to breed me?
    The bread in my mouth suddenly tastes like
sawdust, and the small bite