RONAN
Sixty days, seven hours and forty-one minutes. That was how much time had passed since I had lost Iris. How much time had passed, and I had not found Kerian and killed him.
There was blood under my fingernails. I noticed it only because I lifted my hand to rub at the itch on my chest and caught the dark stains beneath my nails. It had dried there. I had not bothered to clean them. Or maybe I had, I honestly could not remember.
I sat at my desk, staring at nothing. I could taste blood on my tongue. It was not my own blood but from the deer I hunted last night, or rather, the one my wolf had hunted. We had not discussed it. We had simply shifted, run, killed, and fed. It was easier to do so now.
The deer was sweeter than the rabbits, Black said, his voice thick with satisfaction.
