Chapter 82

Quinn

Troy looked up from his phone when I entered the tent. He smiled at me and put his phone aside. He smelled fresh and clean after his shower, and looked delicious in just his shorts.

I was lucky. The woman, the human that made my skin crawl so much, made me realise just how lucky I was. I could have ended up as Nathanial Hawthorne’s wife, and if everything everyone told me were true, I would have been that man’s killing machine, not his breeder.

Troy opened his legs and patted the air mattress in front of him. “How was your shower?” he asked.

“Freezing cold and miserable,” I said.

I didn’t need to tell him that I felt like running away the whole time. The other women in the ablution, some of them wolves, kept trying to talk to me. I didn’t mind the wolves so much, but the humans made me deeply uncomfortable. I kept waiting for one of them to throw an insult my way or to trip me as I walked across the slippery bathroom floor.

I kicked my wet flip-flops off, and crawled up the