Page 2 of Her Rabid Beasts

“He wants to find a blue fairy to help him become a real boy!” I say, gesturing enthusiastically to the TV. “But I don’t know where to find one. They come from the sky.”

Scythe pushes his long silver hair over his shoulder and peers at the cub with new interest, but it’s one of the boys behind us who scoffs. “Don’t be stupid, that movie’s notreal. Faeries and angels don’t exist.”

I turn around to see a boy about my age with long dark hair and the start of a dragon tattoo on his bicep. Even though I think the artwork is cool, I glare at him. “Theyarereal!”

“Are not!” he says, crossing his arms.

There’s a shiny watch on his wrist and I point at it. “Hey, what’s that?”

He looks at me like I’m stupid. “A Rolex, you idiot.”

“Stop it, Sav,” Scythe tells me.

I turn to glare at him because how was that my fault? Now I’m angry and want to punch something. In the corner, there are small wooden kid’s chairs around a table with colouring pencils that one of the mums put there. I leap up and run over, taking a chair in both hands and smashing it against the floor with all my might.

The dragon boy and Scythe start shouting at me and the other boy on the couch starts laughing his head off. I grin and continue smashing it until its back legs fall off. The lion cub ignores me like what I’m doing is normal and keeps watching Pinocchio. Maybe his dad is loud like mine is.

Because I’m already angry and excited, when I concentrate on my hands, my claws burst out of my skin with a quickpop.With their sharp ends, I start slicing away bits of wood from the chair leg. It’s hard work, but it’s helping me get rid of the angry-ness inside of my belly.

“What are you making?” the dragon boy demands.

“None of your business,” I snap.

He crosses his arms and sits back on the couch, sticking his lower lip out like I’ve refused him lollies. He’s probably a spoiled rich brat, and from the way Scythe is eyeing him, he thinks so too. I whittle down the wood until it’s the size of my hand, then work on the details. Boy, it’s hard, and two of the wings are wonky, but they still look like wings, so it’s fine.

There are paints on the corner table and Scythe comes over because he knows I’m going to spill something. I point to the ones I want, and with his careful fingers, he opens the paints for me. I pick up a small brush and start my masterpiece. I’m concentrating so hard my tongue is between my teeth, but when I’m done brushing on the paint, the wings are blue and her dress is white.

“Dragon boy,” I sing. “Come dry this for me.”

With a loud groan like it’s the biggest effort in the world, he slides off the couch like slime and stalks over. I think he’s curious about what it is.

“Be careful,” Scythe warns.

The dragon boy ignores him and holds his palm over the wood. My hands heat up as warm air fans over my artwork like a real, live heater.

“Stop! Stop!” I cry when smoke starts curling upwards. I bat the smoke away and check my work. The paint has gone dry and smooth over the rough wood, and I think it looks perfect.

The dragon boy grunts and goes back to the couch, grumbling under his breath. Something about puppies and roasting. The other couch boy narrows his dark eyes at me and I don’t know if I like him.

I run back to the lion cub, who never took his eyes off the TV for even one bloody second.

“Here ya go,” I say happily, holding it up to his furry muzzle. “Now youdohave a blue fairy.”

“Hey, that’s cool.”The lion cub leans forward and gently takes the wooden fairy between his teeth.“It looks like an angel.”He sets it down between his paws and, smug as a bug, I brush my hands together because it was a job well done. I turn around and stick my tongue out at the boys behind me, but they only roll their eyes.

We sit like that until my dad comes to get us for my first fight.

I don’t see that lion again until almost two decades later, when he’s ten times as big and growling at me over his desk as Deputy Headmaster of Animus Academy.

Chapter 1

Aurelia’s Anima

Blasting through the cold night air, I ascend upwards on rapid beats of my wings.

Danger swarms beneath, where powerful, hungry monsters prepare to launch an attack that will end me.

Venomous fangs reach for my feathers through the ether; hissing mouths whisper heinous things that I can’t bear to hear.

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