Read Feral Online

Authors: Anne Berkeley

Feral (15 page)

“I have five growing lycan
boys to feed.  You stick a plate of birdseed in front of them and their gonna scoff at it.”

“I didn’t buy birdseed.”  I bought sunflower seeds, shelled, for the salad I was going to make. 
Before he could reply, I threw my store of cash at him and jumped out of the car, grabbing an armful of groceries from the trunk.

Max came
trotting outside and reached to take the bag from my arms, but when he took in my expression, he held door for me instead.  “Still biased?”


That depends on which way you’re leaning.  You might want to help him.  There should be a trailer pulling up shortly to drop off a small petting zoo.”

Lucius was in the kitchen, nursing a
cold slice of pizza.  Upon my arrival, he vacated his stool and began helping me unload the bags.  “Man, I haven’t seen this much food in…I can’t even remember!  You can actually cook all this stuff?  What the heck is cream of tartar?”

He stared at the jar of said spices as if it contained sea monkeys.

“I don’t want your money,” Icarus said, his arms full of bags.  Dropping them onto the counter, he dug in his pocket and pulled out my crumpled wad of cash.  “Take it.”

“You keep it,” I refused.  “
Use it to pay the doctor; maybe he can pull that bug out of your ass.”

Lucius and Max
chortled, rustling through the bags.

“Don’t just stand there,” Icarus growled at them.  “There’s more stuff in the car.”

Without warning, I found myself wedged between the shelves of the pantry and Icarus’s rigid body.  His chest swelled against mine, crushing my ribs.  He peered down at me, his eyes hard, unbending. Peeking over his shoulder, I could see he had pulled the door closed behind us.  For a moment, I wasn’t sure what he was about, and wondered if he was going to kiss me again.

“I don’t know what it is between us that we can’t get along,
but if there’s one thing I won’t tolerate, it’s you disrespecting me in front of my cousins.  Do it again and I’ll take you over my knee. Understood?”

My eyes narrowed
, matching his.  “Try it,” I said defiantly.  I hadn’t meant it in the literal sense.  I think every teen said it to their parent at least once or twice.  So I hadn’t expected him to take me up on my challenge.

Nonetheless, next thing I knew, I was being heaved through the air.  Instinctively, I reached my arms out and caught purchase on one of the wire shelves.  It was to no avail
, because the shelf collapsed, sending its sparse contents to the floor.  I think I got beamed in the head by a can of Dinty Moore.  Before I could utter a peep of protest, I felt a loud thwap against my backside followed by a sharp sting, and another, and another until I could barely feel it anymore.  Each strike seemed to blend into one burning ache.  Somewhere along the line, I found my voice, which by the end, became hoarse and almost nonexistent before I stopped screaming altogether, saving myself a shred of dignity.

When at last, Icarus had spent his ire on me, I got the impression that he forgot there was a wrathful woman attached to the rosy backside slung over his lap, because his palm glided once over me, massaging the sting. 
He was panting as hard as I was from the altercation, but as his callused fingers rounded the globe of my ass, his breath caught in his throat.

“Are you done?” I inquire
d, averse to being groped after the indignity of being spanked.  Finding his lungs, he sighed and released my arms from his grip.  I turned as I stood and tugged my pants up, denying him the full frontal.  Gravity had played part and jostled my boobs from my bra so it took me a minute to put myself back together.  Yet, when I turned back around, he was still standing there.  With much effort, I bit off the urge reply with some sassy retort.

This pleased Icarus
indubitably, because he turned and left the pantry.

On his way out, I caught a glimpse of Hailey’s smug grin
through the crack of the pantry door.  If not for that small provocation, I might have sulked in the pantry for a few hours, but it grew increasingly irksome.  I wanted to slap the smile from that eerie little imp’s face.  Instead, I combed the tangles from my hair, smoothed my clothes and squared my shoulders then went out to face the world.  Mentally belting a few verses of Tub-thumping, I fixed my expression to mild indifference and opened the door.


You ok?” Lucius asked.

“Icarus went out.”
Max added.  “If you want to talk about it.”

“I’m fine.”  Busying myself, I immediately set to putting the groceries away, ignoring their
troubled stares.

“What the heck happened
while you were out?” Max pressed.  “Icarus never gets that upset…well…not since—”

“Last Sunday?” I
interjected.  “We don’t get along.  That’s the bottom line.”

“He’s really not—”

“That bad,” I snapped at Max.  “I’ve never been so affronted in my life.  Since I’ve met him, he’s bitten, molested, dominated, threatened, poisoned, kissed, flirted, spanked and groped me.  Now tell me, what impression would that leave upon you?”

Confounding me,
Max’s expression grew crestfallen while Lucius grinned smugly.  This wasn’t something you’d see from someone who was disappointed with discovering the true morals of their highly respected alpha.  It was more like they’d lost their most prized possession in a game of cards.  Or at least that held true for Max.  Lucius looked like a grinning loon.

“Dude,
” said Lucius with a growing smile, “you owe me fifty bucks.”

“That was an unconfirmed bet.”

“Bullshit!  It was fair and square and everyone was there to witness it.  Now pay up.”  Shoving his outstretched palm in Max’s direction, he wiggled his fingers.

“What are you guys talking about?”

Gloating, Lucius could barely spare a glance in my direction.  If he had, he would’ve seen my humorless expression, my pale face, or the way my knuckles whitened around the bag of russet potatoes.

“Icarus
is in lust with you.  It’s plain as day.  Why anyone doubted me, I’ll never understand.”

“So what,” I
said, my voice quivering with anger.  “You made wagers on me and Icarus?”

Finally,
Lucius’s smile wavered.  “Well, it wasn’t necessarily about you.  It was really over Icarus, and how long he would hold out.”

“Hold out for what?”  It wasn’t like I didn’t know the answer
.   I wasn’t born yesterday.  But I wanted to hear it all the same.

“Not that,” Lucius denied, but I could see it was a lie.  “Not technically.  Geez, shit, damn, don’t cry.  It’s not like that…it’s…you have to understand…”

“No, you need to explain!” I shouted, slamming my hand down on the counter.  “Was I or was I not involved in a bet that had any relation to Icarus’s
lust
?”

“Yes, but—”

My palm cut off his answer with a loud slap across the face.  “Would you like to bet that some stranger’s out there fucking your mother right now?”

I shouldn’t have said it, but I wanted to make a point.  I was
torn from my world, where I was safe and happy and thrown into this hell that I didn’t understand, or accept.  And they were placing wagers, inconsiderate to my thoughts or feelings.  I was a fucking person, not a conquest.

But deep inside, I wanted to hurt him too.
  Because unlike Mike Dougherty, I could.  Mike was untouchable.

Back in my sophomore year, I had been euphoric when Mike asked me out. 
He was star quarterback at the time.  Before Rock East and West split.  He had dirty blonde hair and green eyes.  And the typical build of a determined athlete.  I overlooked that I was an inch taller.

We dated for almost a year
. Forever, by a sixteen-year-old’s standards. I thought he was the one.  It was only natural.  His parents owned a chain of steakhouses.  My parents founded O’berries.  We planned to attend the same college as business majors with plans to follow in our parents footsteps by opening a chain of restaurants.  We dithered on what type of restaurant, but that was trivial.  All that mattered was that we were together.

I
went a step further and secretly envisioned our children.  We would have one boy and one girl.  Our daughter would have my blonde hair and Mike’s green eyes.  Our son, he would have Mike’s darker hair and my blue eyes.  He would have dimples, though neither Mike nor I had them.  But it was my dream.  I could imagine whatever I wanted.

In hindsight, our whole relationship had been a dream.  Mike was shallow, but through the
glorified eyes of my youth, I couldn’t see him for what he was.  I idolized him.  I put him on a pedestal.  And set myself up for disappointment.  While I was making plans for our future, he was making plans of his own.  And the only one that aligned with mine was after prom one Friday night in June.

I’d visualized
a beautiful, romantic affair with roses and candlelight.  It was my first time.  What else should I have expected?  Our relationship was destined.  We were meant to be together.  We were the all-American dream.  High school sweethearts.  And what better way to celebrate our love than to gift him with my virginity?  It was proof of our commitment, a promise of our future together.

What I hadn’t anticipated was to find him collecting debts not ten minutes later over a keg of beer. 
It was then that I found out he had taken bets with more than half the football team that he could ‘pop Thale Llorente’s cherry.’  Evidentially, it was widely doubted across the locker room—after much grievance from Mike—that I would ever give it up.  I guess sophomore prom was an unrealistic expectation for holding onto one’s virtue.  But as the team chanted ‘T. L. C.’ across the room like they were at a damn pep rally, Mike appeared pretty proud of himself as he splayed his hand over his crotch and humped the air triumphantly.

Funny.  He got the facial expression down pat.

Actually, there was nothing funny about it. The sex wasn’t even good.  And it wasn’t a case of sour grapes.  It was truly
that
unimpressive.  I think he was as nervous as I was.  It hurt.  And it was over before I could spell Mississippi aloud.  But if I were to share that with anyone it would’ve made me look pathetic and bitter.  So Mike walked away with my v card and a few hundred bucks richer and I walked away with a reputation.  How cliché.

Hence, I stood, playing the weak and embittered female, waiting for Lucius’s provoked response. 
He didn’t disappoint, his frown falling farther until it was a grimace.  But sadly, I felt no real satisfaction over his misery.  It wasn’t in my nature.  Besides, I didn’t like lowering myself to their corrupt standards.  That would only make me a loser too.  And unlike the rest of the world, my parents raised me to have a conscience.

I turned away as my
last vestige of control slipped, muffling my jagged breaths with the back of my wrist.  Only did I let myself go when I closed the door to my room.  It wasn’t pretty or quiet, unlike my silent, mournful jag this morning in Icarus’s car.  This was full-fledged, all out, inconsolable bawling, snot included.

Through a veil of blurry
tears, I trudged up the stairs to my room where I found Hailey perched on my bed.  She slid down, her hands clasped behind her back, head cocked to the side.

“What are you doing up here?” I grumbled. 
Little freak.

From behind her back, she produced my box of tampons.  “I think these are yours.”

Snatching them from her hand, I slogged past her and into the bathroom.  “Thank you, I said as an afterthought.  I dropped them into the drawer beneath the sink and plucked two tissues from the box of Kleenex to mop my face.  My hopes that she would leave were wasted.

“You won’t need them, you know.”

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about, Hailey.”

“Your tampons. Lycanthrope don’t menstruate.”

Well, that’s the best thing that’s happened to me all day.  No, all week.  Maybe something good came from this after all.  “You say that like a bad thing.”

Obviously, the girl never menstruated.

Giggling her girly, way fucking eerie giggle, Hailey hid her smile with her hand.  Always polite.  Yeah, right.  Goosebumps prickled my arms.  The imp was up to no good.  I could tell.  It didn’t take half a brain to see she hadn’t come up here to console me.

“I guess you’ve never seen a bitch in heat.”
  Delivering the punch line I had been waiting for, her smile faded.  “
I’ve
seen it before.  It’s sad, really.  Debasing.  You’ll want it so bad, it won’t matter who’s available.  I’ve seen women look to a tree for relief.”

“Wood’s wood,” I dismissed, trying for blasé.  The hell if I’d let the imp know how her words affected me.
  By the slight narrowing of her eyes, I could see I’d just pissed her off.

Ha! 
Thale, one.  Hailey, zero.


As alpha, Icarus has first rights, of course, but if he rejects you, I’m sure one of the others will be happy to oblige.  So don’t be too impressed when you see them jumping through hoops for you.  They only want one thing in the end.  And it’s not your cooking.”

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