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 her to move to, towel wrapped around her feet. Her face was one of content as the steaming basin of water wafted over her skin. She watched me when she thought I wasn't looking, eyes still a bit too wide, still too bright. Fear and stubbornness tangled together in her posture. "Alright..." Mable muttered, sitting down in front of me, "Time for you turn. You idiot." My mouth twitched. "Good morning to you too..." Mable scoffed but she didn't mean anything by it. Her hands were already movin
Zuletzt aktualisiert : 2026-05-09 Mehr lesen