Thirty-three
She wasn’t Siren’s pet! She might be small, but Deva wasn’t some kind of toy, or a child. Hadn’t she shown her worth? Hadn’t she run around in the darkness, avoiding demons like she was invisible? Hadn’t she brought that b***h information?
Deva had never felt so angry. Not even on Metis, with all the meathead comments she had to endure, and the wandering sweaty hands. At least most of them were too stupid to realise what they were doing. But this woman…she knew exactly what she was doing.
She was using everyone else to ensure her own escape. She didn’t care who died in the process, as long as she lived.
The forest was chilly, but that didn’t matter. Deva huffed as she stomped along paths, not caring who heard her. Just so long as it wasn’t Siren. Not that she’d leave her
