Page 61 of Hysteria Rises
I exhale, then jab a finger at the axe as I rest it against the woodpile. “Leave the axe be.” When they don’t immediately answer, I growl out, “I mean it. Hands off.”
They lift their hands in mock surrender. “Yeah, okay,” Leif agrees, deflating.
“I think if you want to help someone, Hayze might be hanging the deer he took down.” A moment later, they hurriedly run off in the direction of the shed. I exhale hard. They’re growing up too fucking fast. Before long, they’ll want to be involved in even more.
Inside the building, I head for my father’s quarters, wondering what he needs me for. As usual, I knock, then at his beckoning, I enter.
I stop abruptly after taking a few strides inside. “Sorry.”
My father glances over his exam table where the light brightly illuminates what he’s doing between Twenty-two’s legs. “Come on in, son. Have a look.”
I clear my throat, moving to the sink and washing my hands before joining him. “What’s going on?”
He chuckles. “Nothing. I simply like to do an exam every few days. I have something I want to talk to you about, but we’ll take a minute to let you study her vagina and vulva. Tell me what you notice. She’s in her third trimester.”
And that’s my father, turning everything into a teaching moment.
Exhaling, I study her, noting the way she shifts as I have a look. Her hand rests protectively on her stomach.
“Are you referring to the way the extra blood flow to those areas is causing some swelling and a slightly darker color?”
“Exactly.” He nods, smiling at me before he gives her one last look, then pats her thigh. “Okay, dear. You can go. Everything looks good. Come back in two days’ time.” Nolan gives her a hand, helping her to scoot back and sit up.
We wait while she makes her way out of the room before either of us say anything else. “When does the testing get done?” This is what I’ve been waiting for. I want to know everything.
“We could do both an ultrasound and a paternity test at any point now. The latter is simply the matter of a blood draw from the mother and a cheek swab from the potential father. But I typically wait for both until we need to know. I’ll let you assist with all that this time.” He smiles, nodding. “It’s time you were entrusted with that.” Stripping off his gloves, he brings them to his nose, inhaling deeply before tossing them in the trash and resting his hip against the exam table with arms folded over his chest.
He’s got this oddly contemplative look on his face. I dampen my lips, waiting. “What is it?” Is this about the snake? Arrow’s back? Some other random, completely inconsequential thing that he’s thought of?
“I want to impress upon you the importance of the Hunting right now.”
My brows draw together as I watch him curiously. We always place the utmost importance on our rituals, so I’m unsure what he’s talking about. Something I can’t quite grasp passes through his eyes, and his hand darts out, roughly clutching at my shoulder. In mild shock, I search his face, looking for whatever I’ve missed. “Of course, Father.”
He gives a swift jerk of his head. “You will inseminate as many of those women as possible.”
My brow furrows. Tomorrow is the new moon. This mentality is common during the Hunting, but I don’t understand why he’d feel the need to impress this upon me now specifically. “What’s happening?”
He heaves out a breath. “Just do what you know to do. It’s necessary.”
“I understand,” I quickly agree.I don’t.
“Find Twenty-three, especially. And Sixteen. I will be out there, too. We all will be.” His eyes are almost crazed. Manic.
I’ve always understood the sense of duty that is inherent in the Hunting. This is the way our society grows and prospers. Scraping my teeth over my lip, I nod, my gut in a tangle.
“Follow. Honor. Nourish. Kneel,” he rasps.
I drop to my knees. “Yes sir.”
Later that evening, I lie in my bed, staring at the ceiling. A symphony of shallow breathing and rumbling snores echoes around me. The Hunting under the new moon always results in a sort of crazed carnality that is unmatched by any of our other rituals. Without the glow filtering through the treetops, what is done under the cover of darkest night is always a fucking free-for-all. Men in the wild at their most raw, their most savage. There are no limits as to what we do, so I don’t understand why my father felt the need to issue the reminder of what’s expected of me.
The fact that the Collective will also be out there is strange. None of them have run in the Hunting in several years. Mostly, they do what they want with the women, whenever they feel the urge. The whole thing is keeping me awake, wondering what the hell has changed and why my father is so unhinged about it.
Shrugging it off, I tuck an arm behind me, conjuring one of my favorite fantasies to occupy myself. My chest tightens, but I can’t help the way my mind slips to visions of Twenty-three in gauzy white, running barefoot through the woods, blonde hair tangling in the wind as she whips around to look behind her.Gah.I scrub my hands over my face as reality yanks me back to the present. She doesn’t evenknow what’s coming. The idea of her out there, being chased down by every man who is of age makes my breath catch. There is no fucking way my fury will accept her fate. I groan, unsure what to do, or if there’s even anything Icando. Except catch her so no one else does.
I clench my teeth and glance over toward Arrow’s sleeping form. Will he even be up for the Hunting? Not a clue. He hasn’t had access to anything else to take the edge off the pain he’s been in. But I do think he’s finally sleeping tonight. My gaze wanders for a second to Hayze. He kept to himself all day, spending the majority of his time drawing or hunting. He’s thrown up a wall that very clearly hasLeave me alonescrawled across it. Not a clue what’s going on with him, though.
Turning my head, I seek out Malakai, eyes skimming over his body. He lies sprawled across the bed, like he doesn’t have a fuckin’ care in the world, one leg bent and an arm thrown over his face. I work my jaw to the side, trying to stop what I know is coming, but it’s futile. Every time I look at him, I can’t stop my fucking vivid imagination, and every altercation with him feeds into it.
