Page 29 of Feral: Part Two
Beck shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "This is going to sound like a whole ass shitshow, but hear me out. My pack is... strange, I guess? My little Alpha, Monet, barely talks and my Omega has all but locked himself in the basement. We don't really see each other, but I only found out this morning why my little Alpha is having such a hard time. He says he keeps hearing laughing."
I frown, my mind immediately jumping to uncomfortable possibilities. "What?"
"I've been hearing laughing from the basement. Every so often, but it's enough to be a bit... It's eerie as fuck."
The pieces click together in my head with sickening clarity, a low whistle humming under my breath. "Hyena."
"Come again?" both Arlo and Beck say simultaneously.
"I'm going to tell you a very off-the-wall story, but I assure you that it's very, very true, okay?"
I give them a brief overview of what we've discovered aboutThe Collective'sexperiments—how they've been systematically creating feral Omegas, how Slate was the first successful case, and how the Latin names we found suggest they're working on multiple species. The bear, the fox, and now apparently the hyena.
Kael cuts in as I finish the explanation. "However, feral Omegas usually shift after they've been bonded in. I understand Beck's Omega, but Arlo, how is Orion already a shifter?"
Arlo shrugs. "I haven't even seen him as a human yet. Only briefly and in pictures. But he has a bite in his shoulder, or had one?"
Slate perks up at this, suddenly alert. "He had a bite removal?"
"No, not that," Arlo shakes his head. "It looks like it wasn't done professionally at all."
"There's only one wound?" Slate presses, and I can see the wheels turning in his head.
Arlo nods, the pieces of the puzzle shifting into a new, more disturbing configuration.
"It must be that they're perfecting whatever the method is," I say aloud. "Slate went through six bite removals before being brought here."
"Jesus Christ," Arlo breathes, horror dawning in his eyes as he processes what that means.
I lean back in my chair, blowing out a heavy breath. "The experiment is the least of our worries, though. Whatever sentence they said you had to fulfill is bullshit. We're not getting out of here. We're their little petri dish of experiments and we'll be put on display once they achieve whatever they need."
"So how do we get out of it?" Arlo asks, his massive frame tensing with the need for action.
Kael runs a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair, exhaustion clear in every line of his body. "I'm not sure we do, to be honest. Not the easy way, anyhow, and right now, we're not going anywhere. Both Preston and Slate could be due in the next few days to weeks and I'm not risking it out there in a world we no longer know."
Beck laughs, but there's no humor in the sound. "Yeah, a lot of things have changed in the last three or four years. It's a dog-eat-dog world out there."
"Is it really that different?" Malik asks, the hope in his voice more obvious than usual.
Beck nods grimly. "More rules and curfews. Omegas can basically get in trouble for anything and then get packed up to cover up the issue. It's... a lot."
Preston shifts uncomfortably in Kael's lap, his hands moving protectively over his swollen belly. "Wonderful, I'm having my babies in captivity, there's more shifters in here, probably ones that have no fucking clue what's going on, and now we just have to... what, survive?"
Kael lets out a dreaded sound. "There's no... fuck...The Collective."
I stare at him, watching as the color drains from his face, and then the realization hits me, too. The bigger picture that my father always talked about, the long-term vision that drove every decision The Collective made.
"I thought we'd be a fucking zoo or petri dish or some bullshit, but we're not. They're trying to see if their little experiment will survive. They've been shoving Omegas at us all for years, but it's only now just starting to take. The fact that they got it to work with Orion before he even got here... they've already figured out the blueprint." I drag a hand down my face, defeat running through my expression as I realize whatThe Collectivemight be truly doing. “Dad always talked about the bigger picture. It makes sense they’re experimenting, but that’s only before they do this on a bigger scale."
"You don't actually fucking think they're going to start doing it on the public, do you?" Arlo asks, horror creeping into his voice.
Malik snorts. "The Collective is a fucking evil group of Alphas that don't know when to stop, soooo..."
Both Arlo and Beck groan at the implication. Because if we're right, if this is just the beginning, then what's happening at Wolfscorge is about to be replicated on a scale none of us can fully comprehend.
The thought ofThe Collectivesystematically breaking down and rebuilding people throughout society, creating shifters on a whim, makes my stomach turn. How many people will suffer the same fate as Slate? How many families will be destroyed in the name of their twisted vision of progress?
"I'd ask if you'd like to stay for dinner, but it seems like you both have packs to go back and take care of and protect. We'll talk Saturday at the market?"
