Page 16 of Her Feral Beasts

“What did your phoenix prophesy reveal?”

It’s usually considered rude to ask, but I suppose in this place, all bets are off. “Um, three other eagles.”

She smiles kindly at me, as if I’m a girl with a friendly, sweet mating group of eagles waiting for me in the ether somewhere. “Some anima find their mating groups here, Lia. You could be one of the lucky ones.” I give a weak, fake laugh and pretend to look hopeful like a normal girl, who isn’t running from her mates, would. “But you aren’t sworn in to the Court of Wings, Lia?”

I’ve avoided this for seven years. Legally, I needed to be sworn into a court. Because I was out as an eagle, just as my mother was listed when she was alive, I should have moved from the Serpent Court to the Court of Wings at puberty. Heat floods my face again and I shake my head. “I… I’ve been—” I bite my lip. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say to that.”

Fuck, I’m the biggest idiot on the planet. I should have come up with a story for that by now. Something better than, ‘oh right, about that. My dad kept me in a ratty bungalow for seven years and forbade me to leave it unless he had secretjobsfor me to do where I would go invisible to fighting rings and illegal court fights and heal the injured and no one has ever figured out it was me running in and out and not the Serpent King’s scary, powerful magic’.

But Hope suspects none of this because she is a kind sort of woman and pats my thigh. “We are a fair court and would be thrilled to have you. Especially given your marks in the healing course you completed last year.”

I mumble something, because Idolike healing. It’s my secondary power, which is a rare thing on its own, but it makes a good cover for my actual shielding powers.

Hope finishes her questionnaire and finds me clothes. And when I say clothes, I mean the latest prison fashion straight off the runways of old Blackwater. The orange jumpsuit smells like it’s been at the bottom of the box for years. Most of the girls must be smart enough to come with their clotheson. The guards have to take off my handcuffs so I can get dressed, but they go back on straight after I pull the curtain back.

The good nurse gives me a zip-lock bag. She puts in it pain killers, a de-wormer, a special shampoo because apparently spending a week in the bush means I might have lice and bird mites now, and a big handful of condoms. When I raise my brows, she nods sombrely. “We give them out for free here.”

Our kind are known for our promiscuity, and naturally, with inter-court relations, things have the potential to get figuratively, messy fast. You can only get pregnant by doing the breeding ritual, so that isn’t an issue, but that doesn’t stop STDs from spreading.

They take a nice mugshot in front of the height lines on the wall outside my cubicle, and within minutes I’m given an ID card that says my name and “Eagle Anima” that’s attached to a pink lanyard that says ‘Flight Risk’ in big black letters.

They have me figured out already.

“Orientation begins tomorrow,” Hope says as she leads us out of my cubicle and out into an empty waiting area where another massive guard in head-to-toe black stands with a rifle. “And Aurelia?”

I tightly clutch my zip-lock bag, wary of the sudden change in her tone.

Hope frowns at me. “We increase the security during the first month but…this can be a dangerous place for a young woman, especially a nice one like you. Do not, and I repeat,do notever let your guard down. Stick with the other animas.”

Hope leaves me in the waiting room to ruminate on dire thoughts about captivity and bird mites. The prison guard just stands there, his side facing me, dutifully staring at the wall.

Well, shit. Not only did Hope call me a ‘nice young woman’, she’s trying to help me. A feeling of warmth spreads through my chest. Having spent seven years living in exile, it’s been so long since an adult has actually tried to help me in an altruistic way. The only other person was my kindly Uncle Ben, who was the one to tell me to run when the Halfeather fire began.

Being visible in this place of so many beasts will be a massive adjustment. My skin erupts with goosebumps and I find myself rubbing my arm with my nose as if it’s still a beak I can scratch with.

Cursing myself, I have to admit that Iama little feral after all. Spending so much time in shifted form has a jarring effect when you return to your human body and you tend to forget human social rules. Some beasts are so far gone they turn rabid and even forget how to speak completely. Even worse? Some beasts we call ‘changed’ stay in their beast form full-time. Getting a person back from that state is almost impossible. But this exact thing is what Lyle Pardalia claimed to have done in this very school. They hailed him as some sort of genius saviour.

As for me? I’ve never had a gram of ferality until now. A real sinking into the gutter moment. A sinking that has led me here, to this prison-school, bursting with the very males I’ve spent a lot of effort trying to avoid. What if the other two mates I’ve not yet met are also here? It will be game over. Mating groups are ordained by destiny and it’s destiny that brings us together through orchestrated moments of chance.

But Icanprotect myself. I’ve been doing it for years. The hydration Hope gave me is already helping me recover my power. As I wait, I actually have enough energy now to pull up most of my shields. My magical store is low, at embers level, but I should recover within a few days of eating normally. If I can just wait that long, I’ll have the power to use my secret invisibility shield to get the hell out of here.

I flick at my new baggy prison wear. This and my fancy new zip-lock bag are all the possessions I have. Once I’m past the interstate line, I’ll somehow need to get a job to start making money. I can’t just steal from the innocent.

The day’s events catch up to me and I lean my head back against the cold stone wall. Somewhere in here, Xander, Scythe and Savage are getting processed and being taken to dorm rooms to start the school year.

It’s laughable. Those beasts sitting inclass? Writing essays and learning manners? I imagine Scythe sitting at a tiny desk with a pencil and his tongue between his teeth as he concentrates, copying notes from a blackboard.

Wild Goddess, what am I in for?

Chapter7

Savage

Birdie doc moves down her long checklist.

“Any health issues or injuries I need to know about?”

Xander’s quick as usual when he calls out from the cubicle next to us, “Savage has syphilis! We call him Syphy Savvy.”

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