Chapter 61

Jack monopolized their dinner with small talk that made Demetria want to vomit. She wouldn't lie and say the food was terrible, because it wasn't, but knowing who prepared it was enough to churn her stomach. She had no idea what he had planned to get his pendant back.

How would he get back to the pack house, light…years away, without bringing her along? At that moment, it was her only source of hope on escaping. Then it hit her.

"Where is your bird?" she asked, remembering he brought it with him before. It sat perched on his shoulder like a stupid parrot.

Jack glanced up from his plate, over the rim of a wine glass, and smiled. "Around. She does my bidding. Her name is Libby," he said, swishing his wine around. "Are you sure you don't want a glass of this? I'm told it's good for the soul."

She clamped down on a bite off her fork, and slipped it from her mouth, taking careful bites of her pasta. At least he was feeding her, but she knew he needed her in good shape to take her life.

It