Page 51 of Her Rabid Beasts

Eugene flaps over to me in alarm. He and Henry cluck in question but I wave off their fussing, pulling my tank top up to peer down at my stomach.

When I see it, I shout out, half in anger, half in terror.

The sight is an awful one. Four deep gouges in the shape of twin fang marks run diagonally across my abdomen from right rib down to left hip bone. And they’re not red with blood like Minnie’s were.

They’re black with venom that necrotises the skin.

Refusing to panic, I squeeze my eyes shut, focusing on sending my healing power into the wounds, mending muscle tissue, tendons and skin. But it depletes my power so much that I’m panting and drenched with sweat in minutes. Pain pummels my body and I kick my legs out to try and dispel some of it. To try and contain the explosive, violent burning.

By the skin of my teeth, I manage to seal the wounds off so that the gouges won’t bleed, but the nasty black marks remain behind, still scorching like acid.

The sob that escapes my mouth is both unwanted and unavoidable. I smother my cries, but it only leads to a full-blown meltdown.

I curse my father. I curse the entire Serpent Court. I never asked to be different. I never asked to be born this way. I’m being punished for something I can’t control and it’s unfair and stupid and fucked up that I have to run from my mates and have to fight so hard just tolive. It’s unfair that my mates hate me for having to run from them. It’s unfair that they tried to kill me. It’s unfair that Theo died. It’s unfair that my father is the worst possible creature in existence.

My chest heaves, trying to draw in air as the tears drip down my cheeks. As quietly as I can, I cry into my palms, squeezing my eyes shut against the mental images plaguing me. Of Theo lying on my father’s metal table, the light leaving his pretty brown eyes. Of Lyle, Scythe and Xander leading me to my father.

My father; the worst of all. Looming over me in the loading bay of the medical centre, black shackles ready to claim me. Ready to trap me forever.

I can’t do this. Any of it. It’s pressing on me so tightly that I can’t breathe, can’t think as death looms over me. Death, and a breeding pen.

Boneweaver female. 20 years old. Unbred. Unmated. Offers over ten million.

That malevolent male voice I heard when I escaped from my dad a month ago told me my asking price was ten million dollars. I don’t feel like I’m worth anything right now. I feel like I’m worth fuck all.

Theresa was right. It’s finally hitting me. It took its fucking time.

My anima surges forward to protect me and I allow it because I can’t think of anything else to do to fix this. I drop to all fours as my mouth elongates to a muzzle. My vision grows sharper and my fingers and toes flex into paws.

It’s a fresh release that I revel in. A release that bubbles up my abdomen, rockets up my chest and my throat?—

I tilt my head up, take a deep breath, and howl up to the ceiling.

Chapter 23

Savage

I’m sitting in group counselling, bored out of my fucking mind and anxiously waiting for Lia’s return from her meeting with Lyle. I keep checking my phone, but there are no notifications from the fairy emoji that I’ve assigned to my regina.

“Stop shaking your leg, it’s fucking annoying.”Xander’s voice is snide in my head.

I ignore him.

The howl hits my ears like an axe to the skull.

It’s grieving, it’s raw.

It’s the equivalent of a canine scream.

The other wolves look up, frowning. They’re not familiar with this voice because it’s a new one.

But it pulls on that part of me that has always been wild and unhinged. My wolf form bursts through my skin, completely out of my control.

Someone screams, but I just shove through the circle of chairs between Beak and another bird and charge out of the room.

Human feet scramble behind me and I know Minnie is running too.

“Savage.”Scythe’s voice in my head is a warning.

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