“I trusted you. You were my friend my whole life!” Treno growls, and for a fraction of a second, I can see the hurt and betrayal that’s surging beneath his anger.
“All of our people trusted you and your family, and look what’s become of us,” Ryn retorts, and they stand there staring at each other, every muscle tense and ready for action. “Do it,” Ryn taunts as retribution lights up in Treno’s eyes. “I welcome the challenge of weak males who are ready to die.”
My uneasy stare flits black and forth between them. Just when I think they’re about to come to blows, Treno steps back, shaking his head, and then moves to a dark corner and sits down. His mismatched eyes are calculating, and his face is furious as he presses back into the shadows and shuts his features off from me.
Ryn stomps over to the fire and rotates the sticks of meat still cooking above the flickering flames. He makes a face as he spins the skewers, and I see that one side of the llama-goat kebabs is pretty charred. My stomach growls, the noise rivaling the most menacing of noises I’ve ever heard come from any kind of shifter, and it’s clear that it doesn’t care what state the meat is in.
I feel a little better than I did when I woke up. I’m standing, which is a massive improvement, and I suspect I have grot berries to thank for it. Just the thought of them makes me want to puke though, so I try to focus on something else. Unfortunately, there’s not much to focus on other than two very pissed off gryphon shifters. I can feel their fury lapping at me like ocean waves crashing angrily on the shore.
“Where’s Zeph?” I ask, because the resentment-tainted silence is starting to drive me a little crazy, and a countdown to the next inevitable blowup might be a good distraction.
“Here,” he grumps as he drops to the ground behind me, and I once again scream and grab my chest, hoping it will keep my heart right where it’s supposed to be instead of pounding through my sternum as it feels like it’s going to do.
“Stop fucking doing that,” I snarl-croak as he walks past me and claims his own shadowy corner, which apparently is now going to serve as his sulking throne.
The cave goes silent except for the crackling fire, but there’s enough hostile testosterone floating around that I could probably backstroke laps in it if I so desired. My lavender gaze floats to each of my mates in their respective corners. And I feel like I’m sitting in the middle of a powder keg.
“So what now?” I ask, the question echoing around the dark stone walls caging all of us in.
This group doesn’t exactly feel like they’re ready for the where is this going chat, but I don’t care. I can’t stay here and just drown in their bitterness. I’m sure Lazza is up to something that needs to be stopped, and I have some serious revenge to mete out on my apparent sister-in-law.
“Well, isn’t that just the question of the hour,” Ryn jeers as he angrily pokes at the fire and then adds another log. “I’m sure Lazza is well aware of our plans and hideouts, thanks to my dear ol’ sister. Years of planning and putting things into place to help secure our victory are now completely useless. As a rebellion, we just had our wings clipped, and right now we’re stuck with Lazza’s brother, whose life conveniently now seems to be intertwined with ours, so there’s that too.”
“You think I did this on purpose?” Treno demands, leaning forward.
Ryn snaps a reply, but I don’t pay attention to what it is. I’m too busy staring at the shifter who, up until today, I thought was kind and patient, understanding and supportive. I didn’t know this angry and vicious male was floating around in there too. Given who his brother is, maybe I should have. Treno just always seemed so carefree and jovial, but then again, it’s not like I ever saw him in any kind of situation that would have invited this side out of him. He was the Altern. In control. In his element and surrounded by people who wore marks that gave him and his brother power over them.
Guess this further proves that I should be sure exactly who I’m dealing with before I sleep with them. I rub my face with tired hands and ignore my growling stomach as the cave fills with more yelling and accusations. With wobbly steps, I stride over to the fire and steal a meat-filled stick. Ryn doesn’t even notice; he’s too busy furiously arguing with Zeph and Treno both.
I sit on the warm blanket and ravage the meat. I’m pretty sure I burn off most of my taste buds in the process, but I’m too hungry to have patience. I barely even chew the gamey meat before swallowing it down and ripping off more to fill my mouth. I’m sure I look like some feral animal as I tear into the meal, but I give no fucks. I don’t even care that I’m growl-groaning as I clean the stick of meat from one end to the other.
The fact that I can hear the wild noises I’m making should be an indicator that the yelling has suddenly stopped, but I’m too consumed with filling my empty stomach and appreciating the taste to pay much attention. Damn, this goat-llama meat tastes like popcorn. It has a salty, buttery quality to it, and I find myself wishing I could bathe in this stuff. I lick the stick clean of any remaining juices and then look up to find three pairs of eyes on me. I shrug my shoulders.
“That’s some good shit,” I declare as I wipe my mouth with my hand and then proceed to lick the
