LAMIA
“Please my Queen,” The pathetic excuse of existence begs as my hand coils around his neck tighter, cutting off his air supply. If I had my sword, I would have already chopped his head off.
“Please,” He begs again, his dank yellow eyes conveying his plea. “We submit, we bow to you, our queen. We want to help you fight. We can help.”
“You can help by dying.” I spit at him, squeezing tighter until he gasps for breath and claws at my hand.
His skin begins to turn a shade pink and his eyes fade to almost clear before turning a shade of pale blue.
“Lamia stop!” I hear Rhetts panicked voice from behind me. Suddenly, his mate stands in front of me, her face half shifted into her Lycan form. Her arms are black and thick with magic that pours from her fingertips.
“No mercy will be shown
