Page 64 of Harley & Her Ferals

I know because one of my favorite things, when I was a teenager, was to sneakily lean in the clinic’s doorway and watch River, before he realized that I was there.

Okay, I had a serious crush.

River was a gorgeous Beta from Above, and I was fascinated from the moment that I met my brother’s new tutor.

River would hum and dance between his trays of flowers and herbs. He would croon to them like they were Omegas, petting them on their petals and promising to care for them.

Possibly, that’s when my obsession with wanting him to be my Beta started.

Who could resist a sexy Italian, who showed how lovingly he even cared for plants?

In those times, however, River spoke halting English, despite only just learning it.

Hearing him now whispering in anguished Italian is distressing.

He sounds younger.

Shattered.

Is he caught in a flashback?

I need to stop this.

Instantly, I open my eyes.

River stills, then to my relief, stops talking.

My cheek is damp with his tears.

River’s raven black curls brush my nose, as he pushes himself up. He wipes his hand hurriedly across his cheeks.

I gaze into his soft, blue eyes.

“Bella!” River smiles. But now I can see how ruthlessly he shoves down his pain beneath his mask of sunny bravado. What the hell has Dad done to this man?“You’re awake.”

“Looks like it.” I’m shocked at how raspy my voice is.

River is dressed in stained jeans and a black t-shirt. A ‘C’ for Companion is stitched onto his top.

I try to raise my hand to my throat, but River catches it between his. “Better not to touch, huh? How are you feeling?”

I swallow, painfully.

Shit, that hurts.

“Like I was strangled,” I croak.

“Funny.” River leaps from the bed.

He circles the stacks of ointments and pots of homemade medicines. He clatters on his bare feet over the rough wooden floorboards to the rickety stack of crates at the back of the room.

The clinic is no more than a large woodshed at the back of Battle House’s courtyard.

Weak light shines through the dusty window of the back door and over the chaotic lines of lovingly tended herbs and bright, multi-colored flowers. Medical kits that include bandages, splints, and as much equipment that River has been able to beg over the years, hang from nails on the far wall.

I don’t know what Lionzio needed to promise Dad in order to be given this woodshed. River was over the moon, however, at the chance to adapt it into a simple clinic to treat Betas, since only Alphas aretechnicallyallowed treatment.

River has found a way to help the unbonded Betas.

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