CHAPTER 12

“I don’t like this at all Imara,” Thorin said as he slid his fingers down his neck. “Was it really necessary to bite you like that?”

Imara stacked the dishes on the shelf  in front of her then wiped her hands on a towel. “It’s just what they do. It’s tradition like their version of this brand on my finger.”

He twisted his lips and shook his head at the still bruised mark on her neck. “It looks just terrible. What a miserable rite of passage.”

“It’s...