Page 13 of Feral: Part Two
Thane snorts. "Really? Because Preston looked like he was about to pop just now. Their bodies are already preparing for delivery, which means we'd be changing just as fast."
He's right, of course. The accelerated timeline of the Omegas' pregnancies should have been our first clue that whatever's happening to us isn't following normal biological rules. If they're changing at an impossible rate, then it makes sense that we would be too.
"I get that..." I start, but Malik's laughter cuts me off.
"You're just weirded out that your saliva healed Slate's hands, aren't you?" he asks, his hazel eyes sparkling with amusement. "How did you know to do that?"
"I didn't know. It was just... I just did it."
There was no conscious decision, no moment of realization that I could heal him. I saw the blood on his knuckles and my body reacted. Like some primal instinct had taken over, driving me to tend to my Omega's wounds in the most direct way possible. The problem is that no ordinary human should be able to do that.
I’m guessing it has something to do withFerals,but I’m not ready to look into all that bullshit yet.
I sigh and move to the dresser, pulling out a fresh shirt and throwing similar ones to Thane and Malik. Our Beta catches his shirt but doesn't put it on immediately. "When did we start being modest here?"
I snort, a genuine smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. "Ever since I caught you sneaking eyes at my cousin. As excited as I am to see him take you apart, Leek..."
Thane starts laughing as he slips into his shirt, the sound dying abruptly when he accidentally knocks something off the nightstand with his elbow.
He frowns as he takes in the small bin that scattered its contents on the floor, my heart in my throat at what he’s about tofind. I keep quiet, though, wondering what he’ll do when he sees it. Thane scoops everything back in, pausing when he catches sight of the small wooden box his mother sent almost a year ago.
"Wait, what the fuck?" Thane mutters, picking up the box and turning it over in his hands.
Malik moves forward, squinting at the intricate carving on the lid. "Isn't that one of your mom's pieces?"
Thane nods slowly, his expression shifting from confusion to something darker. "I thought I threw this bullshit out." He looks over at me, the question clear in his dark eyes.
"That was one of the few things Wolfscorge let in here," I explain. "I knew you might regret trying to get rid of it at some point, so I just kept it."
"Seriously?" Thane's eyebrows shoot up, surprise replacing the anger I expected.
I shrug, suddenly feeling exposed under his scrutiny. "She was the only really nice authority figure we had. I never opened it, but I didn’t really want to chuck it either. I thought if there was anyone you would forgive, it would be her."
Thane's mother had been the closest thing either of us had to unconditional love growing up, even if she was caught up in the same corrupt system that eventually destroyed our lives. When she left his father, Thane had been so fucking mad at her for not doing more to help us that he'd wanted to burn everything she left behind.
A deep laugh rumbles through Thane’s chest, but there’s no humor in the sound. "I was supposed to open it over a year ago when it got here, but I was so done with her,The Collective,everything. Now, I'm curious."
He works the latch open, the lid flipping back to reveal a collection of items I can't quite make out from where I'm standing. Thane just stares at the contents, his face going pale.
"I’m not fucking reading that," he says, his voice strained.
I move closer and take what appears to be a folded envelope from his trembling hands. The paper is yellowed with age, the ink faded but still legible. As I unfold it, I see his mother's familiar handwriting sprawled across the middle, Thane’s name written in fancy cursive letters.
But it's not just the envelope. There's a small notepad tucked beneath it, filled with what looks like his father's cramped handwriting. My eyes scan the pages, picking out details that make my blood run cold.
At the top of one page, there are five names written in Latin: Vulpis, Ursus, Belbus, Serpens, Corvus, and Hydra.
I read them aloud, the foreign words feeling heavy on my tongue. "Vulpis, Ursus, Belbus, Serpens, Noctua, Hydra." I just make out the last word and then realize someone tried to scratch it out. “Actually, the last one is Draconis.”
Malik tilts his head, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Those are animal names in Latin, I’m pretty sure. Although, I’m not sure those are all therightwords. Not that I'm great with Latin, but I know the first one is fox, and then maybe bear? Hydra is like a mythical creature so…"
"So are shifters technically. There's just no fucking way," I mutter, but even as I say it, I know we're looking at something much bigger than we realized.
Thane reaches into the box again and pulls out something else—a few old pamphlets, their covers faded and worn. "Apparently, we're supposed to be a fucking attraction."
"Like a zoo?" Malik asks, his voice tight with disbelief.
Thane flips through the pamphlets, his expression growing darker with each page. "Based on these fucking things? Yes. And worse, we really are just the first."
