Feed Me
~ JAYAH ~
Jayah stepped away from the cave where Sasha and Zev were settled, heaving a sigh.
Zan had both slept and fed again—which was good. But though he'd slept more deeply, his rest was still broken, and though he'd eaten, it wasn't enough.
When Jayah examined the small boy his wail of protest was still weak, his flailing still jerky and lacking strength. And his stomach still distended.
He braced against pain when it was touched. His skin and eyes still dull.
But he was alive. Alive and stronger than he'd been the day before, Sasha was certain of it.
"Thank you, thank you," the woman whispered endlessly as Jayah did her best to ensure that there were no wounds to the boy. She hated to even think it, but was it possible his father had hurt him—even accidentally—in a rage?