Riley - POV
When I opened my eyes, the blinding light hit me hard, and I winced. My nerves were already fried, and this was just another sharp stab of irritation. Nanna finally appeared and drew the drapes, muting the assault of light. She handed me some pills, a dish of blood in a black mug, and a slab of red meat. Her smile was calm—maybe a little too calm.
“Eat up. I’ll check on your wounds after,” she said, setting the tray in front of me. I didn’t hesitate; the blood and meat went down fast. I hadn’t realized how starved I was until I tasted it. The moment of satisfaction, however, was wrecked by the bitter herbs that followed, souring the sweetness of what might have been the closest thing to comfort I’d get today.
Nanna’s hands moved with clinical efficiency. First, she examined
