We hunt in isolation, the only camaraderie shared is silent approval as short rounds echo, sending birds to the skies, wrenching howls and hisses from the surrounding cats.

Over the following hours, Odio guides me, hovering over warrens, and the forest reverberates with tormented squeals and cries.

The island’s native cat was once fucking extinct and now a damn pest.

It is crown-light, the brightest time of day, when I stroll into the forest clearing with three dead beasts hung around my neck, legs dangling down my chest.

Ahead, Turin Two, Medan, Kong, and The Trade Hunters are already regrouping, one by one, with their kill.

“How many did you see?” I ask Turin Two.

He is on his haunches on the grass, stabbing his knife into the thick coat of the cat, carving a seam down the stomach, and opening it up. He is wrist-deep in the guts while he says, “I saw at least a dozen make a break for it before I got this one and the other two in the sack. I shot down another two, but they dropped off the cliff into the ocean.”

“Kong?” I ask, looking over at him as he wraps a bite wound on his forearm with a piece of cloth.

“Ten, maybe fourteen,” he replies. “They breed as fast as the fucking chickens in summer.”

“Good.” Bled approaches from the east, dead cats stacked on his shoulders like logs. “I like the taste of cat. Better than chicken, and you know I’m not partial to ocean game.”

“Shark is beautiful,” Medan says.

Bled lays his beasts on the pile with the others. “Beg to differ. It’s the texture for me.”

Sitting on a hacked tree trunk, I lean forward, my elbows meeting my knees. I look between them. “Speaking of sharks, we may have a low supply for The Cradle until the Half-tower is settled. Cairo left this first-light. I’m certain, he will have it suitably organised within a few months. Man has a way with fucking words.”

“I leave tomorrow as well,” Medan states.

“And I,” Bled adds. “Back to my Hall.”

Turin Two laughs. “Orgies. We know.”

“As much as I enjoy dipping my fingers into a bit of vanilla cake,” Bled says, “it’s the tart that really does it for me.”

“The Common House Girl.” Turin laughs.

“If I remember correctly.” Bled raises a brow. “You quite enjoyed my group activities the last time you visited the Lower-tower.”

“I enjoy a great many things,” Turin Two muses, emptying the cat’s innards onto the grass. His arms are painted with guts as he rubs the bloody organs with poison, kneading the scentless flakes into the meat. He will leave the corpse in the clearing and kill a few more that turn cannibalistic.

Bled looks past me across the open grass. “They like it when you join them. It motivates them.”

I gaze over my shoulder to see The Trade Hunters, fifty feet away or so, in a circle, comparing their kills—they’ll hit the markets in first-light, fresh steaks for The Estate’s residents.

I nod at one; he bows.

Turning back, I stand, adjust the cats on my shoulders, fleshy stomachs warming my neck, and walk away, calling out, “If I don’t see you in the first-light, I will welcome you back next month. Congratulations on securing your legacy, my lords.”

Medan says, “And you, Sire.”

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter Sixteen

Aster

I rub my upper arm; my vitamin shot this first-light seems to ache while between my legs, my pussy throbs. I am swollen there, but it is proof of everything we shared last night.

The pain is sweet.

Smiling, I regard the perfect temperature in the courtyard as a gift while my black hair tickles my neck and sways around my back.

With a book each to enjoy, we sit on the lush grass. Tiny white flowers wiggle up between the blades. Our circle has a bite in the loop where Ana would have been sitting if she were well today. She is nauseated; we are told that resting in bed is best for the pregnancy.

I’m sure that is true.

She is not actually mourning.

This isn’t about Lord Darwin.

My heart hurts for her.

“The shot changes. The dose, the ingredients, it can sometimes ache,” Daisy offers, her eyes following my hand as I massage my shoulder.

I look to the right, seeing she has put her book down on her lap. “Not just vitamins?” I ask.

“Anything that will support our Meaningful Purpose,” Iris states, eyes glaring at me over the butterflied novel covering her face, measuring me up and down as though she can sense the discomfort between my thighs.

I stare back, deadpan. My eyes scream the fiery words: ‘I will be birthing an heir. Your worst nightmare has come to fruition— a Fur-born girl with no Xin Den genes is the king’s chosen Silk Girl.’

I smile, sigh the words from my mind, and decide to ignore her scrutiny.

So, for the hundredth time today, my gaze veers across the grassed yard to the marble stone building where Paisley converses with the other Watchers. She has not offered me so much as a greeting since I woke.

Blossom leans close to me. “She is afraid of Sire.”

“He wouldn’t hurt her,” I say, still looking across the lush courtyard to where she stands.

“My Watcher told me that he reprimanded her this past day,” she explains. “And now your Watcher believes she will end up like your Wardeness did. Hung.”

I snap my eyes to Blossom, feeling them wide and giving my shock away. “Pardon? How do you⁠—”

“She was executed,” she whispers again. “For being careless with you and Iris.”

My heart plunges to my stomach.

At the sound of her name, Iris’s ears pluck up, her body inching into the circle to better hear us. “What did you say?”

“It is the law.” Daisy sits taller, always ready to remind us of our vows. Her gaze dances between us as we mutter quietly; secrecy never looks polite. “We know nothing of the guidelines of a Wardeness. I’m sure what had to be done was done for the necessary reasons.”

“She was not a bad woman,” I mutter, swallowing down a lump that forms over more words.

“Good alone is not virtuous. Purposeful is,” Daisy offers, a half-smile set on her lips. She bends across and taps my thighs. “Smile. We will all have round bellies soon, just like Ana.”

Blossom giggles. “And huge appetites.”

“And everyone will adore us,” Iris adds, then clears her throat, the five words overly revealing.

“And we will visit the spa every day. Have mineral baths together. The Trade believes in water therapy.” Blossom retires her book, closing it completely and setting it down on the lawn. “You will join us this time? Won’t you? We go after the Watchers have finished their meeting.” She looks at me, eyes smiling. “You have a small bruise on your collarbone.”

I place my hand over the delicate area.

“I have a few, too,” she adds.

My fingers pan out to hold the marks he left on my skin, and I stare across the distance, losing focus to the memory of his warmth and words. So many hot words, I cannot pick a favourite.

I feel a smile, sense the other girls’ eyes on me, and then the misguided word ‘love’ tickles my brain. Ana—Ana is in love. I look at her empty spot of the grass, the broken loop in our seated Silk Girl circle.

Concern nests in my chest.

With a sigh, I push to stand and walk toward Paisley and the other girls born for parchment. I don’t need to hear the gasps behind me to know Daisy and Blossom are holding their breath as I stop in front of the five Watchers.

“May I speak with you?” I ask Ana’s Watcher, and Paisley stares at me wide-eyed, a flicker of annoyance revealing itself.

“That is not the way,” Paisley states through grit teeth.

“It’s fine,” Ana’s Watcher offers, touching Paisley’s arm. “You can ask in front of all of us. We have no secrets, Aster.”