Page 38 of Harley & Her Ferals

He nods.

I can see that he’s thrumming with tension. He’s barely holding his feral nature back.

He needs to get out his aggression as much as I do.

Either a fight or a fuck will work.

Ideally, both.

Romilly glances between both of us. “You two spar.” She swaggers to the door, as Feral stalks further into the room onto the mats in the middle. “Or do something more fun. It’s up to you. How about I lock the door for an hour, so that you can haveprivacy to work out your anger together? I won’t come running if I hear you scream.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Training Room, Battle House, The Alpha Underworld

“Make you s-scream?” Feral smirks.

He prowls toward me like a giant tiger. His punky, neon red hair falls over the strong lines of his face and neck.

My lips quirk, as I circle him on the mats. I bounce on the balls of my feet.

I’m vibrating with the rush of adrenaline that I always get before a sparring session with Feral but now with the added knowledge that the door is locked.

We can do more than spar.

By Feral’s smirk, he knows it too.

“Only if you beat me,” I taunt.

Feral growls.

Got him.

He looks ready to pounce on me, but then, he stops and sniffs the air. “Riv?”

My expression falls. “Yeah.”

Feral sniffs again, before his expression darkens. “Lion?”

I nod, carefully. “It’s time for their tutoring session. I was helping Riv to finish his chores first. I tried to make peace with my brother, after Dad deliberately set us up as rivals yesterday. But it’s no good. He’s determined to win, and I understand. He expected to be named as heir. His life won’t be worth living if he loses. He craves Dad’s approval. He’s been trained that way.”

“He w-wants my Beta.”

“And we won’t let him take Riv. But Dad has isolated my brother from everybody else. By being placed above the rest of the pack, Lion has never been able to have friends apart from Riv. I reckon that Lion is mixing up love with friendship because of his loneliness. He has been forbidden to talk about his life before he was adopted. My guess is that Dad selected Lion like a puppy on sale from a poor pack, who abandoned him for the money they gained, simply because Dad wanted an Alpha son. It’s fucked with Lion’s head.”

Feral taps his own head, as if to say thathishead has been fucked with as well, but he’s still not deluded with an obsessional love.

Yet Feral needs love as much as my brother does.

He’s equally as lonely.

In many ways, they’re not so different.

“At least say that you understand him,” I say, quietly.

Feral shrugs his broad shoulders.

“Can I take that to mean you won’t tear out his throat?” I warily approach Feral, whose dominant, spicy pheromones are flooding the room.

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