Chapter 15 · Feed the Bone

"Do it again," Sela snapped. Her voice was like a whip, cold and precise. She didn't move from her spot against the stone pillar, but her eyes—sharp, calculating—didn't leave Cain's shaking hands.

Cain didn't answer. He couldn't. He was staring at the thing on the floor. It wasn't a man anymore. It was a husk, a dried-out shell of a soldier who had, five minutes ago, been a decorated elite. Now, there was nothing left but grey skin clinging to bone, and a void where the marrow should have been.

"I said do it again, you little freak," Sela stepped forward, the click of her boots echoing in the silence of the training pit. She stopped inches from him. The scent of ozone and expensive perfume hit him—a contrast that made his stomach churn. She reached out, her gloved fingers gripping his chin, forcing him to look up.

"What was that?" she whispered, her face so close he could see the gold flecks in her irises. "That wasn't training. That was... eating. You didn't just break him. You took everything. Tell me what you are."

Cain tried to pull away, but her grip tightened. "I don't know," he rasped.