Nefretiri
My hands are blistered by the time I unlatch the last collar. I've never had silver issues before, but this isn't ordinary metal.
I try not to be affected by the bodies, but the oldest can't be older than I am. In their human forms, we can see the marks on their wrists and ankles where they were shackled.
I wish I could believe I didn't know who'd done this, but I can't kid myself. The pile of collars was proof of that. The magic dwindled now that they weren't on the bodies, but it was almost like they craved to be around another neck, sensing the werewolves nearby.
"Make sure no one touches those," I order when I finish removing the last one. "Not without gloves or something."
"Okay," Steven frowns at the pile. "You should let Andy check your hands, Luna."
"I'll be fine," I lied, standing up and turning away from the young woman I'd released from her imprisonment.
