Page 15 of Feral: Part Two
"I don't want to move. I feel so big and tired."Preston's complaint is punctuated by another soft whine, his exhaustion rippling through our connection.
Without thinking, I move closer and curl up around him, my slightly larger frame wrapping protectively around him.
"You're beautiful,"I tell him.“Perfect and gorgeous and your babies are going to be just as beautiful.”I’ve never told anyone else words like that, but it feels right with Preston.
He hums as he snuggles closer, his muzzle now against my throat, soft puffs of air tickling my fur."I heard what Kael said to you. He's trying. I promise he's trying.”
The thing is, I do believe him. I can see that Kael is making an effort, that he's stepped outside his comfort zone to offer me something that resembles care. But that's exactly the problem.
"I'm just having a hard time seeing it as more than an obligation,"I admit, my ears flattening against my head. The vulnerability of the confession makes my fox instincts want to bolt, to find somewhere darker and smaller to hide.
Preston nuzzles closer to me."I know he has feelings for you, but he's not really soft."
That draws a bitter laugh from me, coming out as a sharp yip."I don't need him to be soft."
Softness isn't what I'm looking for from Kael. I've had Alphas try to be gentle with me before, treat me like something fragile that might break if handled too roughly. It never works because that's not who I am.
"You just need an Alpha, don't you?"Preston's question cuts straight to the heart of something I've been trying not to examine too closely."One that loves and cherishes you and puts you first. Kael and Thane are good Alphas; they'll love you if you let them."
I huff, a sound of frustration and longing mixed together."It's not about that."
But even as I say it, I know it's a lie. It is about that, at least partially. It's about feeling wanted instead of tolerated, chosen instead of assigned.
"I know, I'm just saying,"Preston continues gently,"just know that I love you and want you."
We lay there in silence, Preston’s scent sweetening further, an involuntary moan pulling from my throat. Preston winces, a sharp sound of discomfort escaping through the mind link. My protective instincts flare immediately, my body tensing as I sit up a little, scanning for threats.
"We need to go get your Alphas.”
"Our Alphas,"Preston corrects me, even through his obvious discomfort."They're ours. And no, I just think I'm close. I don't know why."
"They told me I had like sixty days and you're three months pregnant,"I point out, confusion coloring my mental voice. In whatever fucked up biology logic this is, that means Preston would have had his babies a month ago, but he wasn’t aFeralthen. He definitely is now… which means something has accelerated in the last few days.Exponentially.
Preston groans, the sound carrying waves of discomfort and anxiety."I'm not ready for babies."
Neither am I, honestly. The thought of tiny, helpless creatures depending on us for everything is terrifying. Ready or not, these babies are coming.
I press closer to Preston, offering what comfort I can through our physical connection. Our fur mingles together, his heartbeat picking up a little at the panic that might undo us both.
"I'm here for you, okay?"I tell him, meaning every word."I will be right here."
Thane
Back in the kitchen, the three of us move around each other in silence, preparing dinner as we always do. However, it’s usually Preston taking a nap on the couch or in his nest as we fall into the rhythm of the life we’ve built over the last three years. Now, it’s complicated by a fox shifter, no way to leave Wolfscorge, and more lies than I can wrap my head around.
My mind isn't even on the food, churning through everything we discovered in that box, trying to piece together a timeline that makes sense of this nightmare.
The Collectivedidn't just wake up one morning and decide to create a supernatural experiment. This kind of operation, this level of coordination and planning, would take decades to put together. The research alone would have required years of study, experimentation, trial, and error. How many people did theydestroy along the way before they figured out how to make it work?
From what little I know, Veltmoor has been around almost as long as I’ve been alive, which provides the perfect base for all this bullshit to start.
Some part of me knows that this was alwaysThe Collective’splan. The other part of me is hoping that that is just a conspiracy and there’s a better explanation.
Every choice we thought we were making, every decision that led us here—none of it was real. We've been dancing to their tune from the very beginning, and we never even knew the music was playing.
I move toward the sink to wash my hands, planning to ask Malik what he needs help with for dinner. But as I turn, I bump into him, our bodies colliding in the small space between the counter and the island.
The contact sends a jolt through me, the same electric current I felt when we kissed earlier. For a moment, we just stand there in silence, close enough that I can see the flecks of gold in his hazel eyes and can smell the warm scent that's uniquely his.
