Chapter 23

The rest of the journey was much the same, Ryver kept me close and I wondered if he had an interest in me, the implications of that honestly scared me, or if he was concerned I’d attack someone, which was the more likely of the two. Nya wanted to rip the throat out of everyone who came near us, Ryver included, or most of all actually.

But every sunrise he tied us up and disappeared, returning with fresh meat, and always tucking his gloves into the silver collar around our neck, making comments about how he didn’t want to lose them, or jokes about having me hang on to them for him. Those moments were the only ones where Nya wasn’t daydreaming of his head being torn from his body, the relief from the silver calmed us both so much that we slept well in the warmth of the sun peeking through the trees, despite our internal clock feeling like we were jet lagged, the relief was so goddamn nice that we slept hard.

Heath and Fig were the only two who approached, I couldn’t quite grasp who wa