“T-thank you,” he stuttered.
“Just stay alive.”
He nodded frantically.
When I turned to walk away, I caught sight of Rowan staring me down from across the camp. He was standing with his arms crossed and an indiscernible expression on his face. It was probably the fact that he was a Veiler, but he had an aptitude for lurking about. Rowan was never far, and I found it both comforting and a nuisance.
I could tell he had criticisms he wanted to spew by the way his eyes narrowed through the slits of his mask, but I wasn’t interested in arguing with him today. I shook my head and steered clear of him, walking in the opposite direction. My plan was foiled when he dropped his arms and came toward me. Rowan was quick. He caught up with me in just a few strides.
“Don’t become attached,” he said sternly.
“That’s rich coming from you,” I scoffed.
He was the one who was attached. Rowan was almost always in the corner of my eye, prowling about like the predator he was. He wanted me to know that he was watching me, too—otherwise, I wouldn’t have seen him at all.
“Oh, I’m not attached,” he bit out defensively.
“Then why do you even care?”
“I don’t.”
“Really? Because it seems like you do, and I just can’t figure out why. Is this some kind of game to you? If so, I’m not interested in playing.”
The words slipped out before I could stop them. Reckless, but I didn’t care. Rowan let me take many liberties in how I spoke to him. I didn’t understand, nor did I care to ask why. As I left, he grabbed my arm, keeping me from going any further.
“This is not a game. People will die. And you’ll sit there knowing you can’t stop it.”
“Then why help me?”
“Maybe I’m tired of watching death take everyone.”
“You can’t mean that. You’re a Veiler.”
Rowan leaned in, his grip tightening. His breath was warm against my ear. And when he spoke, it was low and dizzyingly grave.
“If you think you’re the only one who’s lost their freedom…” He let the words sink in before adding, quieter this time, almost like a confession. “Then you are sorely mistaken.”
“Let. Me. Go.” I bit out my words, over-enunciating each one.
Surprisingly, he did as I requested. Rowan dropped his hand from my arm and stormed off.
I rolled my shoulders back and mentally shook off the conversation that had just transpired. It added stress I couldn’t afford to bear. Then, I made my way toward the Veilers who were handing out bowls of food. My guess was stew—again.
Once I was served my portion, I looked inside. I was right—it was leftover rat stew. I poked at it until I decided that starvation was probably worse than consumption. Scooping a spoonful into my mouth, I forced my jaw to chew the tough meat.
It was even worse than before. My mouth flooded with saliva, wanting to reject its contents.
“I don’t understand,” a woman whispered nearby. “How are you still alive?”
The voice caught my attention, and I put my spoon down. I turned to find a group of three of the culled huddled together by the fire, observing me like I was some sort of spectacle. I didn’t know who had spoken.
All three of them stood at once and advanced toward me cautiously.
“I’m sorry, what?” I looked them over. They appeared equally frightened and in awe.
It was the blonde one who spoke first.
“What’s your name?”
