My stomach is gnawing itself to death.
I press a hand against it, willing it to calm down as I resume pacing the perimeter of my room. Seven steps along the wall. Turn. Five steps across. Turn. Seven steps back. Turn. Five steps to the door.
I crack it open for the fifth time in twenty minutes.
The Blue Mountain shifter stands at attention, back rigid as a plank. He doesn't even twitch as I peer around the edge of the door. His eyes remain fixed forward, as if I'm nothing but a breeze passing through the hallway.
I close the door with a sigh and press my forehead against the cool wood. My stomach clenches painfully. The mountain of breakfast from earlier features in my regrets; I should have stuffed my face while I had the chance. Or at least taken some with me.
Another cramp twists my insides. Decision made.
I yank open the door, determination straightening my spine.
"Hey! I need—"
