Page 177 of Her Rabid Beasts

“This is not what I expected!” exclaims the wolf queen, her many crescent moon necklaces chiming softly as she gestures towards my lion. “Very disappointing indeed, Lyle.”

My father brings out a brown folder leaden with over a hundred pages of printed text. “We found all manner of interesting things from your stay at Blackwater, Lyle. Things that were hidden by your predecessor, Your Majesty.” He inclines his head to the feline queen, whose pert mouth is twisted in disdain. “But it’s all out in the open now. All your unusual diagnoses and issues with rabidity.”

“He must be darted,” the dragon king suggests without emotion. “He’ll need to be assessed… not by his own team, of course. But by the council’s psychiatrists.”

The avian queen nods regally, her poise and bearing of a once successful ballet dancer. “If he needs to go back to Blackwater, then so be it.”

This is happening too fast. There’s no discussion. This isn’t fair.

Lyle is prowling back and forth, panting hard, hissing at the barrier, at the assembled group of people, not listening to or understanding what is being discussed. It’s like he isn’t even here. His animus is in full protection mode… combined with a mate drive. There was no way for him to defend himself against my father’s claims. He’s only proving them correct.

My father holds out a second set of stapled papers for the guards to see through the magic barrier. “We have here a council-approved warrant for the arrest of Lyle Pardalia, Savage Fengari and Aurelia Aquinas. Mr Fengari should never have been enrolled into this school, as he is very much a felon and should be put back into Blackwater Penitentiary. Miss Aquinas, of course, was always meant to return to Serpent Court for her execution. I will also be retrieving the serpent students who are being held against council laws. It’s time things changed in this school.”

The council members all nod in aristocratic agreement.

Savage is cocking his head now, apparently listening. I’m a little surprised, but out of all of my mates, my wolf has always been one and the same with his animus. They’ve never fought each other for dominance.

Ruben is glancing at Savage and nodding. “We’ve been having problems with Savage Fengari. I’ve known him since he was a kid and he’s not changed one bit. He’s not safe to be around the general population.”

This screams of betrayal to me. Ruben was the one coaching Savage. Supposedly helping him this entire time.

“None of them will come willingly,” Ruben warns.

The raptor queen tosses her head of thick blonde locks and says, “Lucky we came prepared. Mace?”

“Indeed, Your Majesty.” He nods benevolently and gestures to something behind him. Another two vehicles park behind the rest. Armoured transport trucks, military grade, covered in steel and obsidian. Big enough to hold bears if need be.

Big enough to transport a Boneweaver, a lion, and a wolf.

“Scythe?” the wolf queen calls to the Great White standing still as a glacier next to Savage. “I don’t believe he’s quite with us.”

“We might as well take the shark to the asylum,” the dragon king says darkly. Then he casts his dark eyes around the drive. “Where is the headmistress? Why has she not greeted us at her gates?”

“Hiding, I suspect,” my father says, as if he’s really sad about it. “Such a shame. I wanted her to be here for the reunion. To think I’d found a long-lost friend of yours, Lyle. A great effort we went to, but we found him in the end. All for our investigation, and as a witness, of course. He’s quite eager to see you. Consider it a little parting gift from me.”

We all stare as the entire top of the third Jeep folds back and down. In the passenger seat, a khaki, wide-brimmed bush hat comes into view, followed by a red beard and a cunning gleam of black-eyed recognition that chills me to my core.

He’s much older than when I saw him in Lyle’s memories, but for what he did to my mate and his family, I would recognise Frank Ulman anywhere.

Apparently, he didn’t die that fateful day Lyle was freed from his so-called sanctuary.

Ulman hefts up the rifle in his hands and says in a voice like old, dead things, “Hello, Lyle.”

I scream, but of course, it comes out in a strangled squawk.

My lion goes still before letting out an earth-shattering roar that makes everyone cringe. Then he does something that surprises even me, who has seen all his memories. He prowls towards the magical barrier and puts a single paw through it. Flesh sizzles and smoke coils through the air.

I gasp in disbelief, but Lyle doesn’t stop. He proceeds to walk through the barrier slowly, as if he doesn’t feel the pain. As if he doesn’t care that his pelt is literally melting off his muscle.

His leg is through. Then comes his head.

Smoke and the smell of burning fur and mane tunnels through the air. Lyle is hissing, growling, baring his canines, but not stopping his advance. And doesn’t take his eyes off my father.

The very ground trembles.

In that moment, I hate what we are. I hate that Lyle’s mating drive is forcing him to do the insane. Is forcing him to maim and torture himself for me. I throw up, retching and spitting out the contents of my stomach onto the grass beneath.

Titus takes a couple of steps forward, as if he wants to get a better look.

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