Page 169 of Her Rabid Beasts

In a sort of daze, I do exactly that.

It’s not until I’ve sat down on the couch and pulled my blanket over me that I realise Scythe justdismissedme. He asked me to reconsider my actions, told me off, and dismissed me like one of his… men.

A weird feeling inserts itself in my stomach. One part of me is seriously turned on by this and another part of me is… strangely deflated. Like I’ve disappointed them. Him.

Quite suddenly, I don’t know what to do.

I stare at the TV without watching it as Scythe’s, Savage’s, then Xander’s eyes flash into my mind’s eye. Then Natalia’s black eyes, filled with exhaustion and agony. I did the right thing. And yet, it feels like I made a big mistake.

I start questioning every move I’ve ever made. If any decision I made had been the right one.

Well, it turns out that, if the universe wants you to do something, it’s gonna force you to do it. It’s going to cut your chain and set you free, even if it’s in the most painful way possible.

For me, that’s on day four, when Lyle comes calling one evening.

And everything changes.

I’m sitting on the comfortable sofa in the TV room, watchingMean Girlswhen the boss lion storms into the room like he’s ready for murder. Well, this girl’s heart he already butchered, so what is he wanting to achieve?

It’s after classes and, uncharacteristically, he’s wearing only a shirt today and slacks. He stops short in the TV room doorway and furious amber eyes take me in: The lovely, soft purple blanket I’m draped in, the multiple empty food wrappers around me, the bag of microwaveable popcorn and a wolf plushie with eyes hand painted in blue. All gifts from Savage. A little part of me wonders if Lyle is jealous my wolf has me all to himself. A little part of me wonders if he kept away as long as he could, each day tearing at him little by little until he discarded first his suit jacket, then his vest, and finally his reason.

“Really, Aurelia?” he snaps, that voice a scorching growl. “At this rate, you’ll be missing most of the semester.”

He’s so angry he doesn’t realise he’s slipped up and used my name. I cheers to him with my glass of coke.

“Never liked the curriculum anyway, sir,” I say with false bravado, then I take a long sip.

“Are you—” His pupils dilate before his voice descends into a whole new baritone. “You’ve been drinking.”

“Only a teensy bit, sir. It’s a Wednesday afternoon, you see. Perfectly accept— Hey!”

He snatches my glass right from my hands and sniffs it with disgust before storming out of the room with it.

“Hey!” I’m forced to extract myself from my most perfect nest of fleece and chocolate wrappers and hurry after him, pulling my tank top and shorts back into place over mybandages. My hair is in a messy bun, but I’m otherwise presentable as far as I’m concerned, sans bra. But now I’m angry my peace has been breached by thisimposter. The imposter who rejected me andthrewme out of his nest and shattered my fucking already broken heart.

“You have no right!” I shout at him, pointing an accusing finger at him from across the dining table. “Give that back!”

“Enough of this wallowing,” Lyle says, exasperated. “You need to?—”

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do!” I shout back. “You have no right! Not after—” I suddenly lose my breath and pant, bracing my hands on the table. I want to cry, but I don’t want to show him vulnerability either. “Get out of here!” I shout, pointing to the stairs.

He looks at me, highly unimpressed.

“I can hear you from downstairs,” Xander’s voice drones as he climbs up the staircase. Scythe is behind him.

Savage comes out from the bedroom fully naked, hair wet from his shower.

Suddenly embarrassed thateveryoneis now here, I shut my mouth and reassess. I huff and cross my arms because that seems like the best thing to do in this situation.

“What’s wrong, regina?” Savage says, leaning on the black wood of the doorway. Even he wants to give me space right now, likely sensing I’m about to implode.

“I’m sick of this,” I mutter. “I’m fucking sick of everything.”

Henry clucks softly in support from where he hovers by my ear.

Lyle blows out air and runs a hand over his golden head but doesn’t move from his position—the furthest position away from me the room will allow. “Look, I?—”

“What,” I say with venom, “the fuckdo you have to say, Lyle Pardalia?”

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