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‘I was talking about Kallum.’
I shake my head at his poor joke, and he gets out of bed, picks up his pack, and goes into the other room.
I heave a sigh and settle into Dane’s spot, hoping that the beast doesn’t stir in the night again. I close my eyes, but it’s not to sleep. Instead, I go through everything I can remember from my early lessons on shifter lore. It’s been a long time since I thought I’d need them. My training had been stopped when I was sixteen, and it was determined that I’d never shift.
I will my heart not to leap in my chest but it still does. Finally, I’m what I was meant to be. Now I just have to learn to control it … and try not to let myself smell the Harbinger.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Dane enters the room while I’m standing in the middle of it still, trying to work out how I’m going to lie on the floor with my beaten arse and not be in pain.
‘Kallum will be bringing some food,’ Dane mutters. ‘You may sit in a chair. For now.’
I glance back at him, wondering if he knows what Kallum did in the forest. He can’t, I decide as I lower myself very carefully into a chair at the table and successfully keep the grimace of pain off my face. If he did, he’d be making me sit on the hard floor just because he could.
A few moments later, the door opens and Kallum enters with a tray piled high with food.
He grins at Dane, ‘Lucky us, it was the young one, and her da wasn’t with her, so she gave us extra.’
Dane chuckles. ‘What else did she give you?’
My cheeks heat, and I stare at the table. I don’t care what he does and who with. It’s nothing to do with me. I watched them for years, and Kal was by far the most promiscuous of The Cunty Trio. It didn’t bother me then, so why should it now?
Kal doesn’t laugh in return, though. ‘Just the food.’
I hear more laughter in Dane’s tone. ‘You must be slipping.’
I hear him getting off the bed and look up to see him leaving the room. ‘I need to speak with Grey. Watch her.’
Kal nods and places the tray on the table. He sits across from me and takes a piece of meat off the plate.
I watch him through my eyelashes.
‘You should eat,’ he says. ‘You don’t look well.’
I survey the tray. He’s right. I should eat even though my stomach is still turning from the Breach. How can I run from them if I’m too weak?
I reach out and grab a piece of chicken breast, taking a bite. I chew and swallow and hope it doesn’t come back up. When my stomach doesn’t revolt, I finish the rest in record time, realizing how hungry I actually am.
Kallum eats as well, but he observes me at the same time, eyes on me as I take what I want and eat everything I can until I’m full.
When he can see that I’m finished, he sits back and regards me. ‘How’s your arse?’ he asks conversationally.
Heat floods my cheeks, and I hear him chuckle. ‘Your blushes always give you away, you know. You’re not as experienced in life as you pretend.’
When I don’t answer, he raises a brow. ‘Do I need to look for myself?’
‘No!’ I hiss.
He just stares at me.
‘It’s sore,’ I mutter. ‘Of course it is!’
‘You should let me look at it,’ he tells me, and my eyes widen.
‘No. I don’t want you to.’
‘Then I want some information from you instead.’
