Page 24 of Racing the Storm

With a small sigh, I carried my cup over and glanced at the data he had on the screen. “Test subjects?”

“All either deceased or unable to carry again,” he said.

My stomach twisted in on itself at the thought of what he’d done. The man deserved the worst torture. “And there’s something different about this current subject.”

“Her biology isn’t like other humans. There are…subtle differences,” he said, his voice low as he clicked over to what could only be Mari’s file. From the quick glance I saw she’d miscarried twice—rather similar to most Wolves when they were reaching the age of breeding and maturity. “But nothing that would qualify her as inhuman. Like you.”

I ignored the small dig. He meant it to be cruel, but facts were just that—facts. I wasn’t human, and I never would be. “She’s the only successful pregnancy to date?”

“With heavy amounts of gene therapy, we’ve managed to get several humans to carry until about four months. Many have needed hysterectomies from the damage, about a dozen have died.”

And he called us the beasts. I tapped my chin and considered my own research. I was certain that the only reason it worked so well on my Betas—and then on Orion—was because we were meant to change. Misha was still an anomaly, but his treatments had started off so slow and stretched on for months. I didn’t think Kasher was giving these people that same courtesy.

“If I can get a hybrid born,” Kasher said after a beat, “I believe it’ll unlock the thing I’m missing that will allow my therapy to be successful. My traitorous son so far is the only one who has managed to survive past the treatments.”

I bit my lip and didn’t point out the obvious. Kasher might have seen it once, but he was dying, and it was obvious his mind was starting to break down.

But that also didn’t answer any of my questions about Mari. How was a human able to carry Kor’s child?

“We’ve attempted to track down more members of her genetic line, but unfortunately we’ve been unsuccessful so far.” He let out a sigh and looked at me as though I would commiserate with him.

“Where is she from?” I asked.

He lifted a brow and laughed, then shook his head. “I don’t suppose there’s any harm in telling you. I doubt you’ll live through this much longer than her giving birth.” He tapped his thin fingers on the desk. “We tracked her down in Mexico, near the border of California. My son has a team there who has been attempting to find her family, but they’ve scattered. They are, unfortunately, sympathizers who are well aware of the current situation.”

Sympathizers. Wolf sympathizers. Such an ugly phrase, and I wanted to let down my claws and make him feel pain for it. Instead, I finished my coffee, then asked him to move over. “If it means protecting her, I’ll do what I can.”

He gave me a look but said nothing as he shifted and let me take up room at the desk.

True to his word, Kasher forgot lunch. He forgot time, but it was easy to see why. He and I were both consumed with reading through every single line of the experiments he’d run, desperate to find a link. Mari was special, and there had to be a reason why.

I was petrified of finding it, petrified of lingering on a strand of DNA for too long lest Kasher actually see something and act. The longer I drew it out, the longer I would survive, and the more chance I had at a rescue.

Sometime before dinner, my exhaustion took over, and I sat back, pushing my face into my hands. Kasher had been dragging far longer than I was, but he was regarding me with a glint in his eye.

“You have ideas, dog.”

I only just managed to control my flinch at the term. “I need to think things over. So far, I don’t see any difference in her that should actually matter when it comes to creating and carrying a Wolf hybrid.”

Kasher hummed, but after a beat, his tension faded, and he sagged back into his chair. “A fresh mind,” he muttered. “I don’t expect miracles, dog. But I do expect progress.”

At that, he clicked a button on a small remote, and the door to the far side opened. My gut clenched when the same, dark-haired, feral Wolf crawled into the room and set his head in Kasher’s lap. I watched as the man pet him, as he scratched under his chin, as he gripped him by the hair and turned his scarred face toward me.

“They all break like this. Even that escaped Alpha became a beast in a matter of days. When you learn to accept that you’re so much closer to animals, it’ll make your subjugation far less painful.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “And yet, you need me.”

“I need you,” he said, the words brittle and pained.

There was a long silence, then the far door opened, and my heart rose into my throat. I recognized the man walking into the room both from his striking resemblance to Misha and from the way his oily, cruel smile had been plastered all over every news station.

He spared me a glance, then reached out and kicked the Wolf away from his father. Instead of fighting back, the Wolf curled on his side and whimpered. My claws were out, and I hid them by gripping the underside of my chair.

I knew what these humans wanted—proof that I was a beast, and I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

“Down, pup,” Alexei said, then laughed. He walked over, then nudged at the Wolf until he was on all fours before extending his foot. “Lick it.”

I closed my eyes so I didn’t have to witness the rest, and after a beat, Kasher took pity on me. “Dog. Bed.”

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