Beasts and Savages (The Beastly Series Book 1)

Beasts

and

Savages

By Emma Woods

Copyright © 2015 Emma Woods

All rights reserved

ISBN:1517123844

ISBN-13: 978-1517123840

Ally:

Thank you for awakening the imagination I thought I had lost.

Wendy:

“‘Wendy,’ Peter Pan continued in a voice no woman has ever yet been able to resist, ‘Wendy one girl is more useful than twenty boys.’” ~ JM Barrie

Thank you for holding tight my tether, lest I lose myself in the clouds.

~
Acknowledgements
~

Thank you to my family, friends, writer and editors, and readers who have encouraged and guided me along the way. Without you, this work wouldn’t have been possible.

CONTENTS

Chapter 1: Late Bloomer

Chapter 2: Breeding Class

Chapter 3: Changing

Chapter 4: The Exam

Chapter 5: Sleepover

Chapter 6: Requisition

Chapter 7: Mom’s Story

Chatter 8: Runaway

Chapter 9: Feast

Chapter 10: The Hunt

Chapter 11: Captured

Chapter 12: Tanner

Chapter 13: Attacked

Chapter 14: Father

Chapter 15: Girls

Chapter 16: The Bunker

Chapter 17: The Warning

Chapter 18: Escape Plan

Chapter 19: The Vote

Chapter 20: Mating

Chapter 21: Maddox

Chapter 22: War

Chapter 23: Freedom

Chapter 24: Revolution

About The Author

CHAPTER 1

~ Late Bloomer ~

“Mom!” I shouted. I thought I knew what was happening, but my mom would know for sure. And if it was as I feared, I would need her. I scratched the tops of my hands. They had been itching all day.

My hearing sharpened, and the mix of cleaning products, blood, and shampoo overwhelmed my nostrils. Mom still had not answered me.

“Coming dear! Calm down!” She burst into the bathroom. “Oh Lea, it's your time!”

The folded laundry in her hand dropped to the floor, and she took my hand to inspect it. “The bristles look like they are coming in nicely. They itch, don't they? I have medicine. Honestly, I was getting worried. I mean, there are late bloomers all the time, much older than sixteen. But your grandmother bloomed at fourteen and me at twelve, so....”

She didn't stop talking as she walked down to her room. The soft click of a metal box, something I wouldn't have heard this morning, echoed down the hall, followed by rustling as she drew closer.

“I bought these when you were fourteen, but don't worry, they don't expire. They're tamp-”

“I know what they are, Mother.” This was it. My cycle started today, and in a couple of weeks I would experience the changing every month until it was my turn to hunt. Panic and terror fought for dominance in my head. Tears pooled in my eyes. I rummaged through the clean clothes strewn across the floor, fishing for a pair of underwear.

“Oh honey, I know this is a hard thing for you. You're scared, excited, and have so many questions. I know I did. We all do. It is a part of life, a part of growing up.”

She stepped back with a laugh. “And I bet you're embarrassed because your mother is hugging you while you're on the toilet."

Mom paused at the door. "I'll stop at the school tomorrow morning and sign you up for breeding class.”

After the door clicked shut, I could no longer blink back my tears. My shaking fingers brushed them off of my cheeks. Dread sat heavy on my heart, and no amount of swallowing would wash it away. I wasn’t ready to breed. Maybe I’d never be ready. I could put in for a requisition to wait until I was eighteen to participate in the hunt. Girls whose families need money wait until they're eighteen, while others wait because they're going to school for something that requires hours of studying and they want to get through the most strenuous part before the chance of taking on a baby.

Once I was eighteen, I could request the surgery that makes the changings stop without participating in the hunt. Women who’ve had health problems often make this choice. I wasn’t like those women. The Corre family was a long line of early breeders. My mother was signing me up for breeding class. I couldn't deny her the chance of being a grandmother and end our long family line, but I didn't want to hunt. Would telling her no be selfish?

I sulked to my room to wait for dinner and consider my options. The wooden bed creaked as I flung myself onto my down comforter, sinking my face into my pillow. I rolled on my back and cringed at my bright yellow walls and blue floral curtains illuminated by the sun. My room was too happy for brooding.

Posters from long forgotten bands and no-longer-favorite books glared at me from across the room, a reminder of the day my best friend and I tried to redecorate my room. I missed Lucille and didn’t need old memories making the day worse. I strode to the nearest poster and ripped it down. As I stepped toward the next one, I stubbed my toe on something. My child-size rocking chair still held my favorite doll, a mess of cloth with brown yarn for hair and painted matching eyes. I clutched the doll to my chest and made my way back to the bed. Hot tears blurred my vision, and I lay down with my back to the room and sobbed into the soft yarn.

After crying myself dry, I made a decision:  I wasn’t going to decide right away. I had a year before I could participate in the hunt. I would attend breeding class, begin my vocational schooling, and decide when it was closer to my hunt.

***

The aroma of baking lasagna had taunted me most of the afternoon. I made a mental note to ask Mom if going through the changing made you hungrier. As I descended the staircase, my heightened senses allowed me to determine that we were also having salad with Mom's homemade dressing and that Nana and Grandmother were already seated. 

One look at Nana and Grandmother as I entered the dining room told me they knew. Nana's eyes shone with pride, and Grandmother gave me an approving nod. I shouldn't have been surprised. My place at the table was across from no one and next to Mom. Nana and Grandmother had ended their conversation and we waited for my mother to take her seat in silence.

Nana was the first to speak. "Congratulations, Dear.” Her hands fluttered up to the pins holding her white hair in a knot at the nape of her neck. As oldest in the household, she was head of the family. When Gigi, her mother, had passed away last year she had retired from teaching and taken over the household.

“‘Bout time,” grumbled Grandmother. She wore her graying amber hair pulled back, framing an angular face with severe lines. She still wore her work shirt from the recycling center, the only item she owned with buttons. She must have planned to stay and supervise the next shift before my mother called and told her my news. Grandmother was at her best at work; she lived to bark orders and watch people jump at her demands. I wasn’t looking forward to the day when Grandmother took over the household.

“Lea can't help when her time comes. Besides, given the stress she's been through with this whole Lucille thing ---” Mom gave me an apologetic look. “Sorry darling, this night is about celebrating … I made your favorite dinner.”

I didn't want to talk about Lucille’s death any more than she did. “So, what medicine do you have for my hands?”

Mom waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, just regular itch cream. I'll get you some after dinner. I remember my hands itched all the time before my first hunt. After that, I barely noticed them. It goes away completely after your surgery.”

“First?” I raised an eyebrow at my mother. She never spoke of her hunt and very little of her pregnancy. She certainly never mentioned that she had hunted more than once, let alone that I was the result of a second hunt.

“First time didn't take. She had to go in again.” Grandmother crossed her arms and leaned back, as if the subject was closed.

My mother's cheeks colored. “Yes.” She eyed Grandmother, an unfamiliar sound of warning in her tone. “It was no big deal really, happened all the time.”

Grandmother stood, picked up her plate, and said, “Congratulations Lea. I'll be taking mine to go. They need me at the center. No one to supervise this shift.” She thanked Mom for dinner and left the room, carrying herself with stiff indifference.

Mom let out a sigh when the door closed. Nana made a little “tut-tut” sound, and then went on eating dinner. We ate in awkward silence for a while. My hunger had vanished, and I pushed food around on my plate.

Finally, my mother broke the silence. “Lea, honey, don't let your grandmother spoil anything for you. You know how she is. Stubborn, and thinks that everyone is less than her.”

I saw the tears my mother had blinked back, and I knew there was more to her story than some minor setback. I sighed. “It’s okay Mom, I know Grandmother and her ways.”

Nana smiled encouragingly at me, so I braved another question. “So, how long will I itch, and feel cramps, and...”

“Bleed?” Mother finished my thought. “For about three to four days. Cramps should go away soon. You can take ibuprofen for them. Unfortunately, I can't say when your itching will go away.”

She continued between bites of her pasta, “I'll tell you that your hands will hurt after your first complete changing. It'll burn, then itch, and then burn again. The burning will go away after a few changings. You start breeding class tomorrow. You'll learn all about the physical stuff then.”

I huffed. She was avoiding yet another serious conversation.

Mother glanced at me. “Honestly, I thought you would know more about changing than you do because... well you know.”

“Lucille did tell me things, Mom, just not everything. After the hunt, she told me that she couldn't remember any of it. She could hardly remember her changings. I got tired of hearing I would understand when I went through it, so I stopped asking her.”

I stood up. I was exhausted and the conversation angered me.

Mom reached for me. “Sweetie, I'm sorry! I thought she shared everything with you. I didn't know.”

“Just let her go,” Nana said. “She needs her rest.”