Page 34 of Her Rabid Beasts

Sabrina says snidely over her fruit salad, “He’s got that ‘I’m-too-good-for-aftercare’ type look, doesn’t he?”

We all grunt in agreement, eyes narrowed on the male.

Stacey suddenly puts down her fork. “Wait, this can’t be the ex who was bad news, right? The one in the gang who landed her in here in the first place?”

“Shit,” Sabrina agrees. “The one she told us about on our first lock in.”

“He’s an a-alpha t-tiger,” Raquel mutters, glancing over their shoulder. “Just l-look at him.”

In our world, an alpha was a beast who held so much dominance that other males followed him. They had strong command of their order’s powers and were leaders within their territory. And this male is holding court at not only his table, butthe neighbouring tables as if it’s just another day. The felines, both animas and animuses, are all sucking up to him, nodding eagerly, their chairs turned towards him attentively. Even some of the wolves and birds a little further away are gazing on with interest.

I look around for Yeti, the top tiger in the academy, and order leader of the felines to see his response to this new threat, but he’s not here.

Staring from his table, Beak sits, his face blank. He catches my gaze and his eyes widen a little. He looks between Minnie and us glaring animas, and as if he knows what I’m thinking, gives a tiny shake of his head.

A warning. An instruction.

Both things, I am above.

Minnie hasn’t even noticed me come in, her eyes solely for this huge, cruel brute. My friend has every right to pursue any anima or animus she wants, my every primal instinct is shouting at me to get my pack-sister away from this danger cloaked in a human body.

Stacey gets out her sneaky phone, probably scouring social media for any information. Sabrina mutters dark things under her breath while Raquel shoots daggers around the hall.

I only realise that I’m on my feet when Raquel’s spoon pauses halfway to their mouth.

“Lia,no.”

But my eyes are only for Minnie and the clear danger she is in, and Gertie, on her shoulder, the yellow nimpin looking very uncomfortable. Like she’s a hairsbreadth away from puffing her chest out and screaming that special disabling song all nimpins have.

I know people are staring. I know Lyle is still behind me, surveying the situation from afar. His teaching methodscontinue to confound me because I’m sure he’s behind the fact that two ex-rabids are here today.

My walk is little more than a prowl as I wind through the tables, ignoring the stares that rake my skin, the snide comments about my absence.

And oh, the dangerous tiger knows I’m making a beeline for the table, but he never looks my way. If I was an animus, he’d consider this direct approach a threat. But as an anima, my approach could be misconstrued as an invitation.

Connor, who’d been sitting within the pool of felines near the danger, half rises from the table on the other side, shaking his head at me in a vigorousno. His orange nimpin, who wears a tiara of diamantés, is sitting on Connor’s shoulder and staring at me as if I’m mad.

I level them both a disapproving look before halting before Minnie’s table. Henry shifts nervously on my shoulder, no doubt feeling the tension around us.

The table goes deathly quiet as the dangerous tiger finally turns his head and graces me with his attention.

I let him see the dominance in my eyes. “Who are you?”

Someone hisses, others go stiff, and Minnie goes still, saying in a small voice. “Lia?”

But the tiger gives me a lazy smile, sitting back in his chair, his tone light but his words slow and measured as if he’s remembering how to use them. “Well, who’s this pretty creature? Piggy, introduce your cute friend to me.”

I barely notice the depth of his voice because… Piggy?Piggy?I don’t like anything about him. The command in his voice. The possession in the way he’s folded my best friend into his side.

Minnie clears her throat, and in a higher pitch than usual says, “Aurelia, this is Titus. Titus, this is Aurelia Aquinas.”

Titus slowly drags his eyes down my body, with obvious consideration, rubbing his bottom lip with his thumb. I’ve justhad a shower but I immediately feel like I’ve just waded through filth.

I keep my hands casually by my side and my body language open to show I’m not afraid of this neanderthal. “The first-year animas sit at the anima table,” I say, jerking my thumb over my shoulder to where our friends sit.

But Titus smirks as if this is very funny. “No, birdy, she’s sitting here with me. Where I can see her properly.”

My low growl is wholly reflexive and, perhaps, my first mistake of the day.

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