Chapter 8
Chapter
Eight
Along, awkward moment of silence hung in the room. I seemed to be having a lot of those today.
It was an odd sensation. For seven long years, I’d been drowning in questions, desperate for answers. And now I couldn’t spit out a single one.
It was shock—it had to be.
All these years, I’d assumed that Tauren was human.
That he was like me, only stronger, and braver, and more resilient.
I’d let my imagination run away with me, conjuring up an image of a movie star action hero.
A golden boy with bulging biceps, sculpted abs, and perfectly styled hair that somehow didn’t get ruffled when the fight got intense.
I should have known better.
That kind of person didn’t exist. At least not in real life.
But the alpha did.
Somehow, Tauren had turned out to be even bigger and stronger than the picture I’d painted of him in my head.
He still had plenty of muscles—more than I’d ever dared to imagine—but they weren’t the kind for show.
They weren’t chiseled. And they sure as hell hadn’t come from hours with a trainer on gym machines.
His body had the kind of power that came from long, hard work and daily use. Even his hands were strong, his fingertips rough and calloused—mighty enough to rip a man into pieces.
How could that be the Tauren I’d dreamed about? The one I cried out to with my dying breath?
The alpha might have saved my life, but that didn’t mean he was a hero. He was still a beast…one that growled more than he talked. And one that might rip out my throat after he’d had his fun with me.
“I’m so confused,” I finally admitted, surrendering to the cold sense of defeat that was already creeping into my bones.
“I don’t doubt it,” Calindra said. “You’ve been through a lot. Do you mind if we talk while I check your injuries?”
Her tone was so calm and kind that despite my best efforts, I felt my defenses start to fall. Tears sprang up in my eyes, but I did my best to push them back as I nodded.
Calindra came around the side of the bed, guiding me down until I was stretched out on my back. Gently, she lifted up my shirt, exposing the long bandage that was wrapped several times around my midsection.
“Why don’t you start by telling me about your dream?” she suggested as her long, graceful fingers began to unwrap the compress.
“Okay…” I took in a deep breath. “I’m running in the Wilds—“
“You’re certain it’s the Wilds?” she broke in almost immediately.
“Yeah,” I answered. “There’s no place on the other side of that wall that looks like…this.”
She bobbed her head in understanding. “Go on.”
And I did, telling her everything—the fear of being chased, the sounds of the giant beast crashing through the brush behind me, the shock of crashing to the ground, the feel of hot breath on my neck, the piercing pain of fangs and claws. All of it.
Calindra quietly listened, unwrapping me like a mummy as she nodded along until I was done. Only then did she look up and meet my gaze.
“So you never see the face of the alpha who attacks you?” she asked.
“No.”
“But you believe it’s Tauren.” She didn’t sound convinced.
“Who else could it be?”
“Any other alpha in the area.” Now that my bruised and battered ribs were free, Calindra took a seat on the edge of the mattress.
Her answer made a chill run through me. I’d been so focused on Tauren, I hadn’t been thinking about other ferus. “How many other alphas are nearby?”
“About a few hundred or so between here and the coast.”
A few hundred?
My stomach sank. I’d never escape with that many alphas around. Even if I did manage to slip away from Tauren, chances were good that I’d just run right into another one on my way back to the wall.
One that wasn’t half as hospitable.
“Tauren said that he’d dreamed about me,” I said, changing the subject.
“That’s true,” Calindra nodded before molding her long fingers over the bottom of my rib cage. “Take in a deep breath—as deep as you can manage.”
I did, surprising myself with just how much air I was able to draw in despite the deep black and blue hues painting my torso.
“Good,” the healer said. “Unusually good, actually.”
“You know about his dream?” I asked on the exhale.
“Of course. All ferus who are lucky enough to be blessed with mates have those dreams,” she answered.
What the hell did mates have to do with anything? Honestly, I was too afraid to ask.
“But I’m human.” Apparently, I needed to state the obvious.
A soft smile lifted the corners of the woman’s mouth, as her light, melodic laugh filled the room.
“We’re both human, my dear,” she insisted. “Just two different kinds. One that has stayed closer to the natural state of the world, and the other that has grown more removed.”
Well, that was an interesting and tactful take…and I didn’t buy it.
“Okay, but only one side has fangs and claws,” I pointed out.
“Because we need them for survival,” she said before angling one of her ears toward my chest and gently tapping her fingers against my ribs, like she was listening and analyzing the sound each one made. “You, on the other hand, do not.”
“Because we’ve evolved past all that.”
Another chuckle—this one definitely at my expense.
“I suppose that’s one way to think about it,” she said. “Though I doubt that’s how you see the many animals your kind has domesticated. Is a dairy cow more evolved than a bison?”
I winced at the comparison. “So that’s how you think of us? Like cattle?”
“Some do,” she admitted. “Just like you insist on seeing us as monsters. Some ferus look on your kind the same way you view those cute lap dogs you’ve bred—adorable, harmless canines that are as far removed from the soul of a wolf as any creature could be.”
Well, that was hardly a flattering comparison. “I take it the ferus are the wolf in this metaphor.”
She lifted her slender shoulders before letting them fall—a gesture too graceful to call a shrug.
“I suppose,” she said. “That word, ferus, means wild, after all. Just like kirre, our word for your kind, means tame.”
I pressed my lips together in annoyance as Calindra continued to move her fingers down my rib cage like it was a xylophone.
Cattle or lap dogs—either way, it was hard not to be insulted.
But what right did I have to bitch when I’d called them monsters?
I let out a quiet sigh, knowing I was going to have to apologize for that…but later. After I had more answers.
“Okay, but even if that’s all true,” I started, hitting that if hard, “it doesn’t explain why I’ve been dreaming about this place for seven years? Or why that alpha—I mean, Tauren has been dreaming about me?”
“I already told you,” she said. “All ferus dream about their mates.”
Wait. She couldn’t possibly mean…
“I am not some alpha’s mate.”
I forcefully shook my head against the pillow, needing to shut that down right away.
“No?” Without lifting her head, Calindra looked up at me from under her long lashes, piercing me with her clear blue gaze. “Then why are you here?”
“Because I was kidnapped.”
“According to Tauren’s version of the story, rescued might be a more accurate description,” she said, bringing her attention back to the bruises along my side. “But I’ll ask a different way. What brought you so close to the Wall in the first place?”
I hesitated, unsure just how much more I wanted to share with the healer. After all, just because her actions weren’t openly hostile didn’t mean she had my best interests at heart.
But, on the other hand, it looked like if I wanted answers from her, I was going to have to give some of my own.
“I saw a detail in my dream I never noticed before,” I answered, determined to keep it vague. “I researched it, and the trail brought me here.”
“To Tauren.”
“To the town of Goldwood,” I clarified.
But apparently the distinction didn’t matter to the healer. In a flash, the smile was right back on her face. “And to the Wall…where Tauren knew to find you.”
I shook my head, not wanting to believe the words coming out of Calindra’s mouth. “You believe this is destiny?”
“Fate, actually,” she said. “It’s one of the many differences between our kind and yours. Kirre birth rates are split more or less evenly between the sexes, correct?”
“Well, yeah. Half boys, half girls.” Like a coin flip. How else would it be?
“That isn’t the way it is with us,” she said. “Here, girls are a rarity. There are five sons for every daughter born.”
“How?” My forehead wrinkled and creased as my brows pulled together. “Why?”
“The how is complicated,” she started. “But basically it comes down to the environment inside a ferus woman’s body being far more hospitable to male sperm than female. The why, though, is much simpler—nature finds a way to limit the population of every apex predator.”
“But if that were true, then there wouldn’t be billions of us on the other side of the wall.”
“That should tell you everything about the kirre’s true place on the food chain.”
Now it was my turn to laugh.
“Oh, come on. We’re the dominant species,” I argued. “You can’t honestly be arguing that we’re prey animals.”
“I’m not arguing anything.” And I guess technically she wasn’t.
Her voice was light and civil. Utterly non-confrontational.
Still, every word she said rang with a note of certainty.
“But just ask yourself if you would walk through a field of lions, or swim in a lake of crocodiles, or sleep in a bear’s cave. ”
I shot her a hard look. Those were some pretty extreme examples.
“And I’m supposed to believe you and Tauren would do any of those things?”
“Believe whatever you like.” She finished all her poking and prodding, then straightened her back to look me in the eye. “The point is when a ferus goes anywhere, it’s the other animals that flee.”
The cynical part of me wanted to scoff, but the realistic side recognized the truth in her words. After all, my first instinct at seeing Tauren had been to run like hell. Even now, that urge was still there, pushing me to give escape one more try.