DRAVEN
I watched her shove clothes into a bag, her movements jerky—the High Gamma shook.
I was not alone in watching the scene play out like some dreadful dream. The High Gamma's void eyes followed her movements, but she paid no mind to either of us. There was no question of mine that she answered. She only continued to pack, all the while muttering to herself.
Her eyes were blown wide, her shoulders bunched as though still bracing for something. As though we were still surrounded by the North Clan; as though the red mist was still behind us, caging us in.
Her eyes darted, wide and wild, as her mind had yet to catch up with what had happened. We had lost thirty slaves in one day and still we did not have Althea. Even as abysmal as our luck had been, all of that did not hold a candle to finding out the Silvermoth's identity.
Goose pimples still rose at the thought that my Althy had been killing my Gammas to free Vargans.
