Page 83 of Her Feral Beasts

And me?

Fire engine red, skin-tight matching set—check.

Push-up bra—check.

Super short hem that shows my legs—check.

Skimpy crop top—check.

Commando—against my will, but check, and at least I’ll have no panty lines (I’m all about positivity these days).

Make-up on point—check.

Lastly, I dress it down with brand new white sneakers and straighten my hair so I can wear it sleek and loose down my back.

Do I want some attention? Not so much, but I want to prove a point even more. I want to show them that we aren’t frazzled by what they did. In short, it’s a big ol’fuck you.

No matter how hard they try, theyaren’tgoing to get me. They don’t have their powers and Theresa told me that they’ve put the guard numbers back up.AndI’m not about to go to prison without having my fun first.

As we exit our dorm, we get a couple of raised eyebrows from the other girls, but plenty of the animas dress up here anyway. It’s in our nature to show off in front of the animuses to try and lure in our mates. I just haven’t done it so blatantly yet.

The dining hall is another matter though, and even as we walk up to the outside doors, the guards standing either side exchange a dark look and adjust their guns.

A butterfly in my stomach moment, for sure.

Sabrina tosses her head, and the five of us enter the dining hall with swaggers and smirks.

The buzz of the busy hall fades into silence.

I know at once that I’m not prepared. These boys are thirsty on a bad day, and Minnie and I are not used to the level of attention we get.

We get catcalled straight away, and one of the wolves even howl.

“Shiiiittt, ladies!” someone calls.

“Come sit with us, Flight Risk!” another shouts.

“Mouse, bring those muffins here!”

There is more than one feral bark and growl as we walk up to the buffet, trying to ignore eye contact.

But the thing about the buffet line is that we now have our asses to the hall.

Sabrina and Stacey are preening and definitely in their element.

Connor comes waltzing up to us in a tight red dress shirt, his long black hair straightened and loose, and a massive grin on his face. His canary yellow nimpin is chattering, but not excitedly. Our nimpins respond with squeaks as if they’re complaining about our lack of self-preservation.

“Get used to it, animas,” Connor sniggers, slapping Sabrina’s ass when she happily sticks it out for him. “You’ve just put a signal on your back and every beast is going to come calling. Small pool and all.” He grins at someone approaching from behind me, and I scent a lion animus.

“Hello, ladies,” comes a deep, seductive voice. I turn to find a stunning broad-chested male standing there with pretty green eyes gleaming with interest as he hones in on Minnie. “What’s your name?” He holds out his large hand.

Minnie shyly gives him her hand, and he leans down to kiss it. “Minnie,” she says softly.

He smiles, though his eyes are predatory on her cleavage. “I’m Ashton. Please make my week and sit with me.”

Oh, he’s smooth—so smooth that if I didn’t see him punch another lion so hard he had to be taken to the hospital, just for stealing his fork, I’d have encouraged my best friend to go with him.

“Oh, I…” Minnie glances at me, then Connor.

---