“Whoa, whoa!" tattoo-face shouted when he walked back into the room.
Immediately, the strong scent of a steak and cheese sandwich filled my nose. My stomach growled again but I kept my eyes down. I refused to show them how much the smell was getting to me.
I had no idea when I ate last but my mouth watered and I swallowed repeatedly to keep them from noticing.
“Alpha Chandler said not to spoil her, remember?" tattoo-face said.
One-eye snarled and pulled the knife from my finger.
My pinky stung where the blade had cut through my skin and a sliver of blood formed. It wasn't a bad wound.
“Well, he'll change his tune eventually. For now, leave her to starve."
***
Two days.
For two days one-eye starved me and beat me.
He didn't even ask any questions. He was just trying to bre
