Page 72 of Pack Kasen: Part 1

I get up and I walk up to the bars of my cage, far closer to the metal—and the man on the other side of it—than I’d like to be.

My brief time out of the cage has at least restored some strength. Not all, but I no longer feel like one hard shove and I’ll topple over. It won’t last. The weakness will return, and if I stay here any longer, my wolf will die. That’s what this cage has been doing to me all this time: killing me. That piece of knowledge makes it easier to lift my chin and say something that could get me killed.

I speak quietly but firmly. “One day, youwilllearn that you were wrong about me. If I’m still alive when that happens, no matter what you say, no matter what you offer me, even if you were to drop to your knees and beg for my forgiveness, Ineverwill.”

He doesn’t speak for several seconds.

I’ve had years to learn how to wipe all expression—and emotion—from my face.

He is just as good at masking his expression. Maybe even better.

What does he see when he looks at me? He had to have heard the ring of truth in my voice.

Without saying a word, he sinks into a crouch and places his half-finished meal on the floor and walks away.

He stops at the door, his back to me. “I am never wrong.”

The door slams shut after he leaves, and I turn to look at Finan.

He nods once, a subtle motion, and I’m not sure what it’s supposed to mean, but it seems like I did something right? Who knows?

Finan walks out, leaving me alone with a half-finished steak dinner on a plate just outside the bars of my cage.

My stomach growls at me.

I wait for the sound of their footsteps to fade, then I sink to my heels and carefully drag the plate under the bars without touching them.

I eat with my fingers.

I shovel food in my mouth, barely chewing, never slowing until the plate is empty and my stomach is aching. For the first time in what feels like forever, I’m not starving. Only then do I sprawl onto my back, rest a hand on my bulging gut and stare up at the bars of my cage.

“You’re becoming an animal, Kat,” I whisper.

He’s reducing me to the girl I was before that I’ve worked so hard to forget.

Trash Girl.

All this time, he’s made me feel like I’m an animal.

It takes a lot for me to hate. It’s easier to walk away and not waste my time on the people who treat me like crap.

But hatred burns in my gut for the Wolf King.

Not just for what he has done to me.

For what he has done to my wolf.

23

AREN

Ihead immediately to the bunkhouse to investigate something that has me glaring before I push open the infirmary door.

“What were you doing letting Leo in to see her?” I demand.

Gregor is busy sorting through bandages, so my glare is wasted on him. “Leo is a law unto himself. Like herding a cat, that one.” He glances up at me. “And I wanted to talk to you.”

“About?” I step into the room and don’t push the Leo issue.

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