He begins to laugh as if it were the funniest thing he’s heard in years—maybe centuries. His laugh is beautiful, soft, and melodic. My head spins again and I’m certain that if I take another step, I’ll fall flat on the floor.
“Is this the famous addition to your feeders?” he turns his attention to me and gives my body a quick once-over. “I think you should treat her a little better and take better care of her—she looks like she’s bleeding out.”
His nostrils flare, probably picking up the scent of my blood. I look around and, though not all, many others have noticed too. I lower my gaze to my hand and realize the bleeding hasn’t stopped, and now it’s soaking through completely. The piece of fabric, originally white, is now a deep scarlet.
Cassian’s piercing eyes focus on me; he gives a q
