When I came to, it felt like something was under me, and it wasn't the ground. Both my front and back legs dangled as I bounced lightly, swinging lightly as whatever I was on shifted. Pain announced itself one limb at a time.

  Oh, my head, my leg, my tail, my—everything.

  I cracked an eye open to see Keagan walking beside me, head bowed, hands shoved deep in his pockets. He kept pace even though I wasn’t moving; wherever I went, he stayed.

  Slowly more sensations, other than pain, returned. First the awareness that I was on fur, golden fur with bronze highlights, thick and familiar. A pronounced mane whisked into my vision. My head wasn’t in any condition for memory lane, though; even the sound of distant footsteps felt too loud.

  I let out a groan. Keagan snapped his head up at the noise.

  “Lucia!” he shouted so loud my head split further. “You're okay.”

  I hissed through my teeth. “Define: okay. Because it doesn't feel like it.”

  A gravelly voice answered, “You're alive; that's a start.” There was something familiar about the voice too.

  We stopped moving, and a man walked into view. Physically, there was nothing special about him. But the tobacco pipe in his ear was unmistakable.

  “Marrin?” My voice cracked. “What… what are you doing here?”

  He waved a hand to the road. “Several things. Mostly, getting you to safety.” His eyes flicked to Keagan and then to the golden creature underneath me. “We should keep moving.”

  “Safety? From what?” I croaked, claws scraping the fur I lay on.

  “The lang ren,” Nana answered from just behind me, flat, with no emotion in her voice.

  “What's a lang ren?” Keagan’s brow furrowed. “How do you know about them? They aren't in any textbooks about monsters.”

  “Nana, why don't you let me handle this?” Marrin rubbed his jaw. “It's our fault. We were supposed to eradicate them. Although we got the big ones, many of the small ones escaped. And well, they found your ranch.” He glanced at me, his expression softening in a way that made my chest tighten.

  I flattened my ears and closed my eyes. “But what is a lang ren?”

  “That's a… how do I put this?” Marrin’s voice dropped into a low, patient, practiced rhythm. “A long time ago, a collective of kalands saw the system that only monsters possess as unjust. They believed they had every right to the same system monsters have. They experimented for years, decades even. The details are vague in the best of classified documents, but they succeeded. They gained the same system monsters have. But it came at a heavy cost.”

  I finished for him without wanting to. “They became monsters.”

  Keagan covered his mouth. “That's impossible.”

  “That isn't even the worst part,” Marrin continued. “They lost their minds and act barely more intelligent than beasts. The gods tolerate their existence only to serve as a warning: don't overreach.”

  When I asked if there was anything that was similar to a beastkin in this world, I was told no. These would be the closest, but I believe not letting me reincarnate as one was a mercy.

  I sighed. “So they were why you couldn't handle the gryphon.”

  The man blinked once. “There was a wild gryphon? Ah, well, since you talked about it in the past tense, it had been dealt with. That's all that matters. Come on, we should keep moving.”

  Keagan stared at him, then turned to me. “You believe him?”

  “Kid, there's no reason for him to lie to you,” I said. “But why hide their existence?” I glared up at Nana. “Why keep it secret?”

  She walked around us as we started again, voice flat. “The Association wants as few people looking into their files as possible. Too many questions embarrass them. Or implicate them. Or both.”

  “Or because they helped the originals,” I sneered.

  Nana shook her head, hands flat at her sides. “I didn't know if they did or did not. But they multiply faster than any other wild monster, and guardians have to find and exterminate their lairs regularly.”

  I narrowed my eyes on her. “So you knew where Marrin was. You knew. Is that why you’ve been spending time with us?”

  “Yes.” She paused as her hand trembled. “And no.”

  Keagan stepped between us before I could snap again. “Lucia, don't talk to her like that.”

  “Why?” I snapped. “Because Noma is dead? She knew about everything. She knew there was something dangerous around.” My voice rumbled louder with each accusation. “If she’d been honest, Noma might still be alive. If she’d told us—if she hadn’t lied—maybe I wouldn’t have had to choose between saving her and saving you!”

  Keagan flinched, and his lip quivered. “You don't mean that. It's just your wrath lashing out.”

  “Of course it is!” I bared my fangs at the woman. “She could’ve prevented everything. She didn’t. That’s why my friend is dead.”

  This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  The direlion carrying me, Kaimoer, stopped. His voice was slow and heavy, a drum in the chest. “What is done is done, wolf. You've avenged her. That should be enough to placate your rage.”

  “It's not.”

  “Then what is?” Keagan's question hit me like a hammer.

  I searched my wrath, looking for the focus of it. It was boiling over, but it was aimless. At first I thought it was Nana. But no. It was her fault, but she wasn't the one who killed Noma.

  The ones who killed her are dead. Then I ate them. So why do I still need to avenge her death?

  Then it hit me. “I need to kill them all.”

  The lion sat down. I slid down his back from where I had been draped across. “Then go,” he said.

  Pain flared through my torn leg the instant my feet hit the ground. The movement buckled me. The opened wound exploded with agony. I crumpled, too weak to even roll onto my stomach. I tried to stand, but I couldn't even twist to get my legs under me. It was like a splash of cold water over my seething temper.

  “You've made your point,” I grumbled through clenched teeth. “I'm in no shape to do anything.”

  Kaimoer stood up again and slapped the ground with his paw. The ground around me molded and grew into a hand. The earthen hand scooped me up and planted me back on the direlion’s back.

  “So you can see reason,” he said.

  His comment made my fur bristle. If you understood a fraction of what I deal with every moment, your tone would be very different. Ignorance is bliss. And this is when what you don’t know can hurt you.

  We traveled for a few more minutes in silence. The road stretched ahead in an uneven dirt path. The crunch of boots, Kaimoer’s soft, padded steps, and the faint rustle of wind through branches of leaves. Keagan walked beside us, eyes fixed on the ground. Marrin’s pipe clicked softly between his teeth as he chewed the stem instead of lighting it. Nana trailed behind, far enough that I couldn’t see her, but close enough that I could feel the weight of her guilt.

  Nana broke it first. “Lucia is right to be angry,” she said quietly, but her voice carried. “Everything she said was right. Noma paid the price.” She tightened her fists until her knuckles turned white. “The Association didn't want to cause another panic. But they asked certain trainers to pair up for the time being. I chose you because Noma truly, and honestly, wanted to see you again. Also, I knew your condition the most—or at least, I thought I did.”

  “My condition,” I muttered, eyes fixed ahead. “You mean the Demon Blood.”

  She hummed in agreement. “It’s written in your file. Lily gave it to me after I left you yesterday.”

  “It’s not something I asked for.” My claws flexed against the direlion’s mane. “It’s not something I can turn off either.”

  Marrin grunted. “Never that simple, is it? One of Wrath hasn’t shown up in dozens of years, according to the records. I half expected to believe that a bloodline like that could go extinct.”

  I laughed wryly. “Extinct? You can’t kill an emotion, Marrin. Rage doesn’t die. It just finds new vessels. So long as life exists, so do hate, anger, and wrath.”

  Keagan slowed, looking up at me. “So… what’s it like? When it hits you? I’ve seen it, but you never really talk about it other than it’s a part of you.”

  I wanted to lie. I really did. But the silence that followed his question felt suffocating. Even the lion beneath me seemed to slow his gait, as though he waited for my answer too.

  “It’s like…” I started, then stopped. My throat tightened. I forced the words out anyway. “It’s like drowning, but you can breathe. Like your blood remembers a war you never fought, and it doesn’t care that you don’t want to fight it again. It takes everything—fear, grief, hesitation—and burns it away until all that’s left is a singular purpose.” I swallowed hard. “And the worst part is that it feels right. It feels simple and clean.”

  Keagan’s face softened, but he didn’t interrupt. Nana walked closer.

  “The rage doesn’t fade when the fight ends,” I continued. “It festers. It whispers that if one death didn’t fix things, then maybe ten will. If that’s not enough, keep killing, destroying, or whatever it takes until it is. But it never is. And when you finally stop, all that’s left is emptiness.” My voice cracked on the last word.

  For a while, no one said anything. The road stretched endlessly forward.

  Then Marrin exhaled, pipe clacking softly against his teeth again. “There were three lang ren,” he said. “You did well taking them all on.”

  My tail flicked against Kaimoer’s side. “There were six.”

  Marrin froze and turned his head sharply. “You mean three escaped?”

  I shook my head. “No. I killed all six—by myself.” My voice dropped, barely more than a growl. “Like I said. Nothing is ever enough. So long as a piece of them remained, there was no silencing the rage.”

  The group slowed. Marrin’s brow furrowed deeply, the faintest spark of fear in his eyes. “What are you saying?”

  “I ate them,” I said flatly.

  Marrin’s pipe slipped from his teeth.

  “The scattered pieces of one were actually all that was left of four?” Kaimoer sounded impressed.

  “Yeah.” My gaze unfocused, seeing nothing but the memory of the tree, of the blood, of Noma’s body pulled apart.

  “We… we saw,” Nana whispered.

  The air hung thick for a long time before Nana broke it again. “You’ve been through so much for one life, Lucia. The Association treats you like a danger, but you’re as much of a victim. I’m sorry. I…”

  “You should’ve told us the truth,” I said, but my tone had lost its venom. It came out small and tired. “Maybe then Noma wouldn’t be dead.”

  Keagan stepped closer, his hand brushing against my paw where it dangled over Kaimoer’s shoulder. “You don’t have to hold it in, you know.”

  “Yes, I do.” I didn’t raise my voice, but the words came like a blade anyway. “You think I can afford to break down every time something hurts? I can’t. People already look at me like I’m something dangerous. And they’re right. The moment I stop holding it together, the demon inside me wins.”

  My eyes burned, but I forced myself to blink it away before it could show. “So I hide it. I keep my distance so others aren’t around to hurt. I pour everything into protecting so that at least one good thing can come from all this. Because if I let anyone see what’s really inside…” I looked down at the boy beside me, my voice dropping to a whisper. “They’d run. This is my burden.”

  Keagan smiled. “I wouldn’t. I didn’t.”

  “You haven’t,” I murmured. “But everyone isn’t you. I saw the look of fear both times. You stayed, but I saw your look of terror at the carnage I wrought.”

  Kaimoer rumbled softly beneath me. “You are strong, wolf. Too strong to be ruled by what made you.”

  All I could manage was a tired sigh. “Strength’s not the same thing as control.”

  I didn’t say anything more. I couldn’t. The wind caught in my fur and stung my eyes, and I let it. It gave me something else to blame for the way my vision blurred.

  Time after time. It’s the same story. When will I ever learn? I remembered the last memory of my family in my previous life. The image The Judge showed me of them playing with my sister’s children. I’m a hypocrite.

  https://www.royalroad.com/amazon/B0BVWLYCT3