#Chapter 153: The Feast

Kayla I stared at the deer turning on the spit, its skin turned red and glistening with fat as the fire cooked it from beneath. The air smelled like roasting meat, mingling with the scent of fresh bread and mulled cider. I was starving and surrounded by food that looked utterly delicious, and yet my appetite was nowhere to be found. It was just a deer, I told myself. Werewolf society was almost entirely carnivorous, and I’d always loved meat—my father even used to take me hunting and fishing as a kid, so I was no stranger to killing and eating animals. But something about seeing this majestic creature turning over a fire made me sick to my stomach. Maybe it was because I had looked into its eyes, shared a brief moment of peace, lowered my bow and decided to live and let live. Or maybe it was because, if I shut my eyes, I could almost picture myself turning on that spit. Meat. Something to be used and discarded, just like how Nicholas had used me to g