My Teacher is a Werewolf & I'm His Mate.[Book One: Part One] (Complete)

24: My Teacher is a Werewolf and I'm His Mate. Wait, What?!

So, I haven't had time to write anything all week so its probably rushed. Its not really that much, but I like I said I haven't had the time to write. Sorry.

Starts in Lexi's p.o.v.

Chapter 24: Surprise B!tch...

“Ow,” Its dark, I'm cold and my head feels like its splitting. Tell what did I do to deserve this? I'm a good person, I get good grades in school, I don't talk back to anyone, so someone tell me what the hell I did to deserve being chained to a cold stone wall in someone's stinky ass basement.

My arms are numb, my torso is aching, my feet barely touch the ground and to top it all off I have to freaking pee! What the hell is up with this? I don't get it, I mean I haven't had anything to drink, hell I have even had anything to eat all day, so why does my bladder feel like its going to go 'pop'?

“Oh look, Steven, she's awake. Now the fun can begin.” Bile rises in my throat at the sickly sweet sound of her voice, or maybe its the stench of this room, and all I want to do is retch all over the place. But somehow I really doubt that would be a good idea. “How are you feeling dear? Any nausea, headaches?” Only when you talk.

“I have to pee.” Oh and lets not forget that the bitch took my sheet and someone put me in a shirt that's two times too big for me, but other than that I'm just freaking fine and dandy. Note my sarcasm. I'll freak out about the clothes later, though, right now all I want to do is go home, but I doubt that'll be happening any time soon.

“So? I fail to see how that is my issue, now, why don't we get down to business, hmm?” She grins, flashing her white teeth at me as she takes a syringe from my dad. You know, its funny, I used to feel guilty about being rude to her all the time, but now it doesn't really matter does it? She's probably going to kill me so why should I care if I'm rude to her now or not?

I swallow when she steps closer, lights suddenly flickering on in the room. “What are you going to do?” That needle in her hands looks like its been used too many times before and I don't think I want to find out what she's got in it.