t hurt me, didn't do anything but keep holding my wrist, keep me, so that I knew I couldn't get away, easily, if at all. In fact, it seemed to make a lot of sense, but inside, it felt hard. If you can't think and can't move, then you are a victim. At least you feel something when I touch you.
Then what? I called for backup, and we kicked the door open. He swung my arm back and tried to make me give that sharp crack against Nathaniel's body, but it wasn't sharp, it was sort of flabby. The dancers are allowed to touch, but not that much. We usually had a house full of wereleopards for at least one meal a day.
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