A Touch Of Lightning (COMPLETED!)

Chapter 59 The Hunt 3

"Hello Wolf." He heard her soft voice next to him. Almost as if she had breathed the words instead of spoke them. She seemed to be holding her breath, tension radiating from her. Even with his head turned away, he could feel it.

He slowly turned his head, blinking at the bright sunlight from the door behind her, only able to see her in silhouette. But even without details, he could feel that unnatural intensity to her gaze. That almost feverish pitch she held herself in.

"Let me go." He croaked, the attempt to speak reminding him of how painfully thirsty he was. It felt like he had tried to swallow a sandbox that had been filled with poisonous spines and baked to 900 degrees.

She clapped her hands together excitedly in front of her with a quick gasp at his voice. "My Wolf! You really are real!" She exclaimed.

Callin blinked at her, unsure what to say to that. "Got any water?" He rasped, his thirst overwhelming any other thoughts of freedom or anything else as he scented that she carried fresh water.

"Oh silly me! Of course you're thirsty! Here." She said, reaching behind her, pulling a water bottle from her backpack and holding it to his lips.

He drank greedily, the cool, clear water washing away the tormenting heat and dryness in his throat. She pulled the bottle away once it was empty, then reached forward with one finger extended towards his face. Callin watched that finger closely, nervously.

Curiously, she just gently brushed away a drop of water from his bottom lip. He frowned up at her, still unable to see her expression because of the brilliant sunlight framing her outline.

"Oh I can't wait to tell the others. I can't wait to show you off!" She murmured, pulling her backpack off and rummaging around in it.

The fresh water had brought a bit more clarity to his mind. He cleared his throat, getting ready ask her again to let him go, but she looked up sharply. A quick, almost bird-like move, that made him pause.

"Shh, Wolf. Shh. Words are pain." She whispered intently, watching him closely to be sure he understood her.

When he made no more sounds, she continued to dig around in her backpack, finally pulling out a large, freezer-sized zip lock bag. It was stuffed with a salad, instantly reminding him exactly how hungry he was. It was like the hunger in him had been quietly waiting in the background of his thoughts, poised to pounce. And now it did, springing violently into the forefront of his mind and gripping him within its steel jaws, a gnawing deep in his core.

She laughed delightedly at the growls from his stomach as she pulled out a paper plate and plastic fork.

"Good! You're hungry." She said, pouring a packet of Ranch dressing over the salad, the scent making his mouth water so suddenly that it almost alarmed him. She brought a forkful of salad up to his mouth, nodding in satisfaction when he opened wide and took it.

"I am feeding my very own Wolf. My Wolf. Just for me." She whispered to herself in wonder, stabbing more salad for him.

Callin wanted to talk to her, wanted to ask questions. Wanted to demand she free him. But he was too busy eating at the moment. And she wasn't giving him a moment to think, watching him with hawk-eyes, another forkful of salad ready at his lips the very moment he swallowed. And he didn't like the implied threat, as strange as it was, to her words earlier. Words are pain.

What did that mean? She would hurt him if he spoke? What did she want? Her words, her determination to think of him as a wolf or some other creature, her very own creature, unnerved him. He knew she wasn't right mentally, but he was beginning to wonder just how far down that shattered path her mind had wandered.