Someone had altered our memories, our bloodlines, or possibly both, and I suspected the answers were waiting somewhere outside the packhouse.
I only needed to find them before Damon discovered what I was hiding.
By late afternoon, Dr. Elowen Price had reluctantly agreed that I could leave the infirmary, provided I rested and returned immediately if my mark began spreading again.
I promised to follow her instructions, which was technically true because I had no intention of doing anything strenuous until I was safely beyond the territory.
Damon escorted me upstairs, ignoring my suggestion that he had more important things to do.
“You realize I can walk without supervision.” I told him.
“I've noticed.” He said.
“Then why are you following me?” I asked.
“Because the last time I left y
