The wielders are coming, and they're ready for violence.
With a cub in her arms, Arietta James, a dedicated vet technician in training, flees for her life and the life of the little shifter she's ready to die to protect. Her escape lands her right i...
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"Sarai?" Gavriel's voice was quiet, so quiet. Maybe disbelief, maybe anger, but Arietta watched helplessly as it all passed over his face. Barely a moment, and he wiped the expression clean. "Explain."
Where to begin? Anxiety churned Arietta's stomach. She'd known this was a possibility. That she'd potentially have to explain the situation to the shifters fully, and yet, facing it now...
What happened when it threw him into a rage? She had no way of protecting herself. No way to protect Naya.
Arietta leaned forward on the table, closer to Naya. Ready to yank the cubling to safety. Then she braced herself and said, "it was Sarai's dying wish."
Her words were nothing more than a whisper. She couldn't get herself to push the sound out louder.
Gavriel's hand on the table fisted.
"I worked as a vet tech in the city," she told him carefully. "The company I worked for had a group of shifters under their care. Sarai was one of them."
"In the city?"
Arietta nodded. "For months, I watched them bring in shifters." Arietta hugged her torso. "And Sarai... she wasn't in the best condition when she arrived." Arietta curled a hand over Naya's side. "And then she gave birth."
Gavriel's gaze traced Arietta's hand on Naya. "These shifters—were they there voluntarily?"
Arietta bit her lip. Do it, Ari. "No."
Gavriel's eyes flashed to a yellow-green and then back to brown. "Tell me."
"They call themselves the Freehold Association," she whispered. "On the surface, they're a charity corporation that helps wielders, shifters, and humans find shelter and provide resources as needed to survive."
"And under the surface?"
Arietta glanced over Gavriel's shoulder. Memories of screams, dark smears of blood against white tile, and heavy iron bars in small windowless holding rooms flashing through her mind's eye. "They're much, much worse."
"Are my people still with them?" Gavriel asked in a guttural tone.
As she watched nervously, his eyes kept switching between brown and yellow-green.
She knew enough about the shifters to know that was a sign they were holding back their animal. And yet, somehow, her anxiousness held steady.
Because instead of reacting in the face of a threat, the dark leopard lapping at the small bowl of milk on the table in front of her only rumbled a tiny purr and stretched her front paws. This little creature had so much power over her. This little creature could move armies with a few small yawns.
And she'd do whatever it took to keep her safe. Just as she promised Sarai.
"No," Arietta told Gavriel. "There's... there's no one left." Her sentence ended in a whisper, her heart clenching.
