Senna
The man who killed me is in the next room. I know it now. It makes the tea in my cup taste like iron, even though it is only herbs.
I sat at my work table before the sun came up. I did not sleep at all. I just sat there. I looked at the dark corners of the room. I looked at my hands. They are Senna’s hands now. They are soft and they heal people. But I remember my old hands. I remember the blood and the way the air felt when my first life ended.
I know who I was. I was Maren. I died when his pack took the land. He was the one who did it. He planned it. He watched it happen. And now, I live in his house. I eat his food. I heal his people.
"You have to be smart, Senna," I whispered to the empty room.
"I am being smart," I whispered back to myself.
"Are you going to run?"
"No. If
