Page 33 of Her Rabid Beasts

Chapter 17

Aurelia

The hall is packed as usual, with everyone occupying their regular seats. Eugene scurries to our table, no doubt to get scraps from Raquel. Sabrina, in her typical confident style, sashays behind him.

“Don’t make it obvious,” Stacey says, lingering by my side. “Casually get your breakfast so we don’t catch attention.”

Stacey’s plan is in vain, because I’m noticed immediately as we walk in and, rather suddenly, I’m hit with the full force of the gaze of every hungry, lusty animus in the school.

Stewing in my own rabid juices for four weeks, hibernating in the recesses of my anima has made my senses sharper. I’m suddenly acutely aware of the males around me even more than usual. Their scents hit me in a whirlwind of information, along with their fear, their arousal and their excitement. The latter of which markedly increases as I turn my back on them to collect my food with Stacey by my side. Filling my plate with no less than eight ham and cheese croissants, I take that precious minute at the buffet to steel my body and mind to prepare for what awaits me now that I’m ‘out’.

It’s then that I feel it. The authoritative presence that enters the hall like a predator on the prowl. Like a king entering his court.

I pause where I am, not sure if I want to look down or sideways or up to pray to the Wild Goddess herself. But then he rounds the buffet and comes to stand just adjacent to me—as if he’s not here to see me, just the dining hall in general. But I am not fooled. I know in my bones he came here when he felt that I did.

I wonder if all my mates can feelwhereI am in time and space, even with my shields up. Savage was able to hunt me down when I fled from them, but only because he’d been inside me. But now apparently Lyle can too.

We didn’tdoanything down in the cavern. I would definitely know if we had.

My anima pleads with me to look at him, and because we are promised to cooperate with each other, I oblige her.

When my gaze lands on him, my breath falters. He really is a stunning beast, despite all the chains and shackles my anima is telling me he places on himself. His long hair is perfectly tied back, the golden tones in them sparkling by the sunlight streaming in through the stained-glass windows lining one side of the hall. Those amber eyes are on me intently. Scanning me from head to toe as if he’s concerned that at any moment I’ll detonate and kill everyone around me.

Concerned. Lyle Pardalia is concerned about me. The realisation is both jarring and… something else. My eyes fall to the skin of his neck, where of course, I can see nothing because of my own protections. For the first time in my life, I curse them.

“Miss Aquinas,” Lyle says. How can a man’s voice be both honey and steel at the same time?

“Yes?”

“You are holding up the line.”

I glance at the eagle animus next to me, patiently waiting but clearly checking me out. “Right, sorry.”

Hastily, I turn around to join my friends at our usual table right in the centre of the hall, cussing at my stupidity. Perhaps I just really need the food.

As I walk, many eyes scrape down my face, my breasts, my ass. I feel their gazes like the ravenous predators they are, and by the gods, how did I forget these hungry bastards outnumber us animas five to one? I plaster a glare on my face when whispers break out as I pass the full tables. I walk with a slow, confident prowl to make sure everyone,includingLyle, knows I don’t give a flying fuck about what they think.

Taking a seat opposite Raquel, who sits all broody and scowly, there are three things that I notice immediately.

The first is that none of my enemies are at their usual table at the back of the hall. It sits empty and there are a couple of snide “Where’ve you been, bunny?’s” from the neighbouring birds of prey who think they have a chance with me since my cover order is an eagle.

The second thing I realise is that, in my rush to get here, I’ve forgotten to wearanyunderwear. Bra included. My nipples are obvious through the thin material of the navy-blue mini dress and the thing is made to stick to me. I actually enjoy the fact that it’s tight because after four weeks of being without clothes, it feels like a second skin that I can easily ignore.

But I forget about the show my nipples are serving when I notice the third thing.

Minnie is not at our table.

She’s sitting at a table held by the senior minority felines and there is a dense concentration of energy around my best friend. This table is for the loner types like tigers and jaguars who don’t like to socialise but also can’t sit anywhere else. Everyone hastheir place in the animus dining hall and that’s one of the tables everyone gives a wide berth.

Next to Minnie sits a huge male that I have never seen before.

This, my instincts scream,is a dangerous male.The last time I had such a feeling, I met Scythe, down in Halfeather’s dungeon, chained up and naked in the dark. A shiver passes over me at the memory. But where Scythe is light—silver-haired, and pale skinned—this beast is dark. An obsidian buzzcut sits above two black slashes for eyebrows and a five o’clock shadow. His irises are nothing but midnight spheres as they survey the beasts around him with a cold, cutting dominance that will not be questioned. A cruel smirk lines his lips as he speaks to those at his table.

All the males laugh, but they are nervous and forced.

I understand why my animas are in uproar. My primitive female instinct screams to snatch all our females away from him. That this is a beast who is waiting to strike from the long grasses. He’s not Minnie’s type. Not by a long shot.

But the Boneweaver in me asks a little, curious question.

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