Page 7 of Her Vicious Beasts: The Beginning
I look behind me, and with relief, I see a stone wall—I won’t have my back to one of the prisoners. But on either side of that wall are two occupied cells.
Cloaked in darkness, the prisoners are nothing but menacing shadows, and that makes the whole thing worse.
But I know where the voice came from, so I look again to the cell to the left of the steel door.
I clear my throat. “Why do you say that?”
Chains clink as if he’s moving closer to the bars. “None of the healers could do anything and they were all a lot more experienced than you.”
I know two things from his voice. One, that he isnotrabid because those beasts don’t talk in proper sentences, and two,he’s had some sort of education by the confident way his mouth moves around his words.
Animalia criminals deserving of a dungeon usually aren’t the school-going sort.
But that arrogant voice, that condescending tone cuts into me and I know then that I will fix the beast behind the steel door, even if it kills me. Do I have an ego? Maybe. I suppose this means I do. Perhaps a lifetime of being shunned by my own family has made me into someone who scrambles to achievesomethingwith her life. And every healing I do is an achievement. A success.
And some arrogant male questioning my ability is the single most irritating thing to me right now.
I level a look in his general direction. “Interesting. I suppose we’ll see.”
The figure of the beast who’d spoken shifts, and he leans further forward, pushing himself between the bars and into the field of the meagre light.
My breath catches in my throat as a face of wolfish, masculine beauty comes into view. Oh, he’s a wolf, no doubt about it. He has wavy black hair and scruff on his jaw, but neither of those things are what gives him away. No, it’s the devilish, white-toothed smile and a rogue gleam in his eye that promisestrouble. Metal glints and I know he wears a stud on his ear.
He licks his lips and I can’t help but zone in on the movement. When he speaks again, his voice is heavy with flirtation, and he cocks his head playfully. “What is your name, princess?”
“You’re not supposed to be talking to me,” I say, forcing myself to look away.
A second voice, from the cell behind me and opposite the wolf’s, drawls in a slow voice like molten fire made into sound.“There are no cameras.” Then his voice takes on a deeper, colder cadence. “There’s no one to see what goes on down here.”
Chapter 5
Aurelia
Achill trickles down my spine at the fiery menace in that voice, like the deep parts of a volcano. I have no idea what to say to a barely concealed threat like that, so I simply turn around and decide ignoring these beasts is best. I check my shields, knowing full well I can withstand any attack that is thrown at me. But if I’m correct, that heinous twang I feel in the air hovering around the cells is a magical dampener—and a very expensive one. So, without fear but a lot of alertness, I hone back onto the male behind the steel door.
What manner of illness does he have?
I feel gross for invading his body without consent, but with an unconscious patient, I don’t have a choice. I quickly scan his insides, intending on sweeping my magic from his crown to his toes, but I stop short at his neck. My heart beats irregularly as I recognise what it is.
Why my father specifically sent me to heal this male.
A darkness clings to his spine, curling around his spinal cord as if it wants to choke the life out of him and his animus. It’s an actual snake of shadow and malice, his jaws set around the base of the male’s skull. Very similar to the way my father had mepinned by his snake’s jaw just an hour ago, except I’ve never seen a shadow snake coiledinsidea person’s body.
It is dark magic, typical of serpents, and I have no doubt in my mind that this is a magical disease brought on by contact with dark magic.
I wonder if my father did this. He’s capable of it, and I know in my heart that if anyone could figure out this illness, it’s him.
Then why send me here to undo it? No, this has to be someone else’s work. Someone just as dark and cold.
Being so entangled with his spine, I’m going to have to remove it one bloody inch at a time, prising it away slowly to ensure his spinal cord is left intact. No wonder the other healers left him for dead.Anymark on his spine and he will be left with permanent paralysis that no run-of-the-mill healer could fix.
It will require meticulous and painstaking work, hours of slow focus, and I’d be lying if the thought of such a task doesn’t excite me just a little. Maybe I’m insane, but this is why my father considers me his best healer. This is real complex work, and it makes me feel like there’s a reason for why I was born.
I take up a seat, cross-legged on the dungeon floor, the cold tile seeping into my ass uncomfortably. I pull my cardigan off as I’m going to generate heat from all the work.
A low whistle sounds behind me, from a different cell than the last prisoners who’d spoken. I try not to let it bother me. I’m not here for them. They’re not my patient and are therefore unimportant.
I work for an hour, beginning right at the male’s tailbone, persuading the shadow snake to uncurl himself with tiny, precise manoeuvres of my power. I’m sweating within minutes, and it almost feels like no time at all when I hear the distant slam of the dungeon door and the heavy booted steps of the guards.
