She had never taken human meat before.Not once. Not in The Silvermoon Pack, where meat came from the forest and nowhere else, where the very idea of eating something with a name, a face, a family somewhere still mourning it, would have been unthinkable to anyone raised the way she was raised. Her father never touched it. Her mother never touched it. No one in her bloodline, as far back as she could trace it in the stories she'd been told as a child, had ever touched it.So why should she start now?She had cooked with it before, yes — measured it, seasoned it, handled it with the same careful distance she gave anything she refused to let become part of her, the same way she'd learned to hold her breath and think of something else entirely while her hands worked through the motions of preparing his meals. That was different. That was survival, the way everything else in this pack had become survival. Eating it herself was another matter entirely, one that felt less like obedience and
Última actualización : 2026-09-14 Leer más