Chapter 8

Seris’s POV

Is he ever going to come meet me? I wondered, tracing patterns in the dirt with my fingertip as I settled onto the cold stone floor of our cell. I hadn’t seen him in over a week—maybe longer—but I’d already lost track of the days. What I did notice was that every little comfort we’d been given at first had quietly slipped away. Our thin mattress had vanished. The threadbare blankets were gone. Even the meager bread and soup that other prisoners still received no longer arrived for Nessa and me.

We were starving—hungrier than I’d ever been in my life. Not even the paltry scraps and watery broth dangling in front of the other cells made it to us. I couldn’t decide if this was deliberate punishment from him, my mate, some cruel new torment he’d devised in our absence. I lowered my head, my stomach growling again, when a familiar voice cut through my thoughts.

“Hey, Seris.” I looked up to see Kaien standing just beyond the iron bars, a fresh bottle o