Page 47 of Her Rabid Beasts

I shake my head because it can’t just be that. I also can’t help but notice that her order doesn’t include any toy cleaner or sanitiser. Purely against my will, I put in an order for two bottles and send an email toEggplant Emporium’scustomer service to add it to the same parcel.

There’s a knock at my door, snapping me out of my bullshit. Georgia opens it to peer through. She’s been a little quiet these days, but currently, there is a look of utter distaste on her face. “Miss Aquinas is here, sir.” She steps aside.

Scythe straightens.

Aurelia steps through and, rather suddenly, everything in my world narrows down to a pinpoint. I mark every movement as she steps towards my desk. I note every breath; I listen to every heartbeat; I sense everything about her physical and mental form. But something deeply ingrained in me scents the air,searching.And finds nothing. Yet again, I can’t scent her. Whatever shields she has up courtesy of her Boneweaver powers hides that part of herself from me and it leaves my skin itching. It’s missing. That crucial thing is missing, and it sets the predator in me off. Those chains rattle again.

Rabid beasts always have this gleam in their eyes. A sort of glaze that tears them away from this world and into that of their beast. It tells other beasts that this creature is not thinking, only feeling. That this is a creature who is wild.

But when I look into those ocean-blue eyes, I don’t see a crazed gleam. I never have. Now, in her human form, there is a keen, but weary intelligence; a tired but necessary alertness. I want to know what’s going on behind them. I need to know what her mind is doing; what it’s thinking and why.

Those eyes meet mine and it’s as if she’s displeased by what she sees. They slide to Scythe and narrow in suspicion.

“So you’re working together now.” Her husky voice reeks of disapproval as she makes her statement.

Neither of us say anything. We just… dare I say it? We fucking take her in.

This might be the same young woman who entered my office a few months ago, defensive and snarky, and yet, she is decidedly not the same.

It’s almost as if she is more aware of her body now. More settled into it.

She’s chosen clothes as if she didn’t want to wear any at all. Her blue mini dress is like a second skin that hugs every supple curve, revealing the golden length of her legs, and to my great dismay, it’s obvious she’s not wearing undergarments.

Her nipples are pebbled and I tear my gaze back up to her face. There is the golden column of her neck, where I saw the mark that will ruin me. By her Boneweaver magic, she’s back to hiding it.

I’m once again reminded that my alleged regina has lived a life of hiding. Hiding her mark. Her scent. Her real self.

Something dark twists its way up the column of my back. Something that whispers, “We know this. We know this pain. This spirit is our kin.”

“Why am I here, Lyle?” she deadpans, whipping me out of my reverie. “Are you going to hand me over to my executioners again?” She casts a dramatic look around. “Where are the shackles?”

A timely reminder: gone is the lioness I sat with for four weeks. Gone is the quiet beast who laid her mighty head in my lap. Gone is the anima who purred for me and me alone.

I cover my flinch by standing from my desk. But it’s Scythe who stalks over to her, his powerful body eating up the space in two heartbeats. He leans down to get close to her face. I don’t know if he’s trying to intimidate her or if he can’t help but get close to her, probably a mixture of both. Aurelia does not back away from him. Instead she sucks in a breath as he speaks in his low rasp.

“I sensed the nimpins under your jacket. You did very well.”

He stalks out of my office, leaving Aurelia slack-jawed in his wake.

I didn’t detect the nimpins. I had been too focused on the goal. On Mace Naga and his five serpent generals—the full retinue onmyacademy grounds. Inmyterritory.

But Aurelia recovers quickly under my steady gaze. “Are we having a walking meeting, or are you going to have me in your office?”

Her attitude slides along my veins like a hot poker. And her choice of words leave a lot to be desired.

“This is not appropriate academy attire,” I say tightly, gesturing to her clothing. It’s normal for ex-rabids to find clothing irritating and inessential and I should cut her some slack. But I find that I can’t.

Aurelia raises her brows and has the audacity to drop her arms so her breasts are fully visible to me. Like she knowsexactlywhat’s bothering me.

But how much does she know? I need to know how much she remembers. How much… she was affected by her rabid state.

I come around from my desk. “Do you remember anything from your time as a lioness?”

She stiffens and then sighs. “So you know.”

She’s referring to her being a Boneweaver. While we’ve moved on four weeks with the knowledge, she’s yet to catch up.

“We all know what you are,” I reply drolly. “If you’d told us, we would have known it sooner.”

---