Page 113 of Her Tortured Beasts

“Please don’t burn the house,” she says, tears filling his eyes. “My bond-sisters are locked up below ground. They can’t leave.”

I’m too full of fury, too vengeful and empty of any care for other creatures to deign to give her a verbal answer. I only charge out of the house without another word, explode into mydragon form, and in one big claw, clutched safely, is Aurelia inside her container.

I tear across the land, to the one place of safety my heart desires. The one place where I keep all my treasures and jewels safe and away from the rest of the world.

Deep into the heart of the Blue Mountains, where my horde lies hidden.

Chapter 66

Aurelia

In my head, a woman screams.

She does not stop. Her agony is infinite. Her agony is madness.

And so, I must retreat into the darkness, far, far away from her, to where the pain recedes into nothing because everything becomes nothing.

I sway in the darkness. I sway in the shadows. I sway in a place that is only for me and my despair. There is nothing left to me. Of me. I have no desire to claw my way back to the reality of those screams. There is nothing left for me there except pain. I have no parents. I have no mates who would want me. I have no friends. These things are only memories. They exist in the past. And the past can’t be real.

I just want everything to stop.

Chapter 67

Xander

The Last of Her Kind – Peter Gundry

Deep in the mountaintop cavern where I keep my horde, I set Aurelia’s container down on a gilded tray. Then I sit down and watch her, breathing deeply to catch my breath.

She lies so very still in there, my magical sight telling me she’s pulled her power in so close it’s buried under her skin.

How she thought to shift into this form bewilders the mind.

The golden ring,collar, around one of her limbs seems ridiculous. As gently as possible, I open her container and reach in, stroking a finger down the collar and letting my magic open it. A seam appears and I slip it off.

Her skin is cool, and it makes my fingers tingle to touch her.

I also quickly realise that this container is too bloody small, so I set about building her a new home. I have many unique things within my coins, treasures, and jewels, but nothing with which to look after a starfish. Once I’ve made sure she’s hidden, I fly to the nearest town and purchase as many things as I can carry. There’s a shiny new glass tank with a bag of fresh, brinywater, sand, and after researching on my phone, I approach the local pet shop to get her the right flora, the right nutrients. I even bring her a couple of gentle clown fish for company. A man on YouTube recommends a UV light for a sick starfish, so I get her that too.

Once my setup is complete, I carefully pull her out of the Tupperware container and set her in the new one, ensuring adequate temperature control. Then I sit down and watch her.

Every day from then on, I sit before her tank.

I’ve learned many things in my research about starfish. They have no ears, but they do have rudimentary eyes. I wave my hands in front of her, press my face close to the glass to see if the tips of her arms might recognise me.

I watch her amputated leg like a hawk. I measure its length daily and write it down in a notebook as well as notes about her colour and condition.

She doesn’t move. She doesn’t change colour. I try to contact her telepathically, but I get nothing back. At the end of the second day, I try to feed her. I bring her fresh crab meat from the sea. I buy some clams and prepare the meat for her, place it under her stationary body and wait to see if she gobbles it up, a twisting sensation in my own stomach as I wait.

If she is to re-grow a whole limb, she needs food.

To my dismay, she doesn’t eat my first offering. I eventually fall asleep next to her tank, and I wake up with a start a few hours later. The food is no longer underneath her.

For the first time in what feels like months, I grin.

The next day, when I measure her amputated limb, it has grown five millimetres. Her colour is slightly deeper blue.

Success! I exhale with relief and write the details in my notebook.

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