Meet me alone

The tongues of those men and their private parts, dried and stuffed into a small plate inside the box were what he sent.

A scream tore from my throat as I covered my ears with my palms, shaking my head. Even as I closed my eyes, I could still see the smoked meat.

My mates held me as they tried to get me to cool down, but it was difficult for me to do that. I couldn't unsee what I saw.

....

It took me more than an hour to calm down, after vomiting everything I ate.

“He didn't just do that,” I whispered, looking up at Mitch. I could still see the roasted parts even though the box had been sent to the hunters. It was as if the image were ingrained in my memory, never ready to let go.

“It's alright. Just think of it as normal steaks —”

“That doesn't help at all,” I muttered, trying to rid my thoughts of what I just saw. I curled on the couch and closed my eyes, willing my mind not to think of it, but it was difficult for me. It seemed my mind wanted to remind me of it every chance it