THIRTY ONE: TRUE COLOURS
“No!”
He fought against the strain, curling his fingers.
Pain is good, he kept telling himself. Pain means knowing right from wrong. And with those words in his head, he wrenched back control of the flow, thinking of his burning flesh and the memory of his mother’s death.
Nightmare seemed barely alive now. His roars had reached their peak and faded. His monstrous infection was ebbing away. Other than a few agonised grunts, the giant cat fell silent.
Eventually, the throbbing subsided and Blott blinked through the tears. Staring back at him were a pair of cat’s eyes, much softer than the piercing ones that glared at him before. They were sky blue. Nightmare’s body had also changed. If Blott didn’t know any better, he never would have guessed it was the same ani
