Chapter 73

Asher DravenHart

Mable's footsteps approached like an old verdict.

I laid on my side, one arm tucked beneath my head, the other pressed lightly over my ribs where the slash still burned. The pain had changed since I shifted, less sharp and more deep and aching. It was like someone poured hot sand under my skin. It was the kind of pain you could work through your system if you were to keep breathing and refused to think so hard.

Across the room, Savannah sat on the bed that Mable instructed