Trapped By The Lycan King

le as my legs shook; my shoes tapping nervously on the floo

Mr. Rogers sat at the front of the class, his eyes scanning the room for any sort of movement out of place whilst those that hadn't done their homework hurriedly did it under his watchf

e panicked. I was sure that my face had drained of its natural creamy colour whilst sweat beads gathered on my forehead. I was a ball

now how much. He was going to be angry when I didn't walk through the door before 4o'clock and he was go

g and cooking whilst presenting herself perfectly. She always wore a tight pencil skirt with a blouse tucked in and heels, her brown hair that I had inherited, w

n't a secret to me that he had wanted a son instead of a daughter. I knew that it was because he thought that I was incapable of taking over the family business, his p

were identical to his. Our eyes were a bright green colour, the colour of grass on a summer's day or an emerald gem polished and cleaned until it sparkled

ad never thought that it would be possible to have suc

im. I had gotten my curly brown hair from my mum, the splash of freckles across the top of my cheeks and the bridge of my nose and my red cupids bow

my wrist from where he would grab me with bruising force whenever he thought I had done something bad. I was currently hiding the week old yellow and green bruise that I had gotten for taking a day off

shaking legs a pointed look. I instantly stopped my feet from tapping against the floor as my knees qu

ectly at me. My breath caught in my throat as I feared that he had seen the exchange be

n this class said as I felt my shoulder's sag a little in relief tha

orward on his desk whilst he thought for a moment, "I'd like you al