Feral

4 ⇞ Escape is a Dream

Warning, there is an allusion to sex in this chapter. The scene will be marked with '!!!'

__________________

The first time Tessa had let Nadia accompany her, she'd expected it to be more. . . fun. Instead, it was boring because all Tessa did was walk around the entire conclave and talk to people. Some smelled like death and blood as Tessa did—though they didn't have the smell of candy Nadia had come to associate with the woman who she called pack—and others smelled like humans. But all of them had stared at her as if she were a dirty animal that had been let out of its cage. Nadia wanted to show them her claws each and every single time, so they could glimpse the beast and know she was no simple animal. Not because their looks angered her, but because she knew that by casting those looks, they were insulting Tessa. And while she may not have known what pack was, the beast in her refused to let anyone that was pack be belittled. It took everything in her not to let her claws out each time. She didn't like it, but she knew she needed to keep herself hidden in this place.

It was why Tessa told her to pretend she couldn't speak.

It helped that Tessa always managed to throw her own insults back in defense. Nadia still made sure to show them her teeth or growl at them when Tessa wasn't watching. Some gave her more looks of disgust, but more stepped away from her in fear—she marked those ones off as easy prey.

But then there was the maid. They'd talked to plenty of maids while Tessa made her rounds of the conclave and Nadia tried to remember all the tunnels. All the walls looked the same, and she had to keep searching for other markers to tell what was what and where. It was expected that Tessa check on everyone in the conclave, Nadia was told, because she was the 'head maid.'

This maid though, Nadia knew this maid, had seen her the day she met Tessa and memorized her scent in case she posed a threat. It was a scent that had changed, drenched in the smell of another who reeked of not just death and blood, but of rot and something acidic. Nadia disliked it immediately. It reminded her of the bad food and the birds that ate the rotten meat.

"Miss Tessa," the maid greeted. Her voice was light, airy, and stung Nadia's ears with its unnecessary pitch.

"Maribel," Tessa greeted the maid, polite as she had been to all of the others, but not welcoming, "How are things among the junior maids?"

As they spoke, Nadia noticed the glances the maid threw at her. Nadia met Maribel's pale blue eyes with her own golds each and every time. She had to try extra hard to not show her claws and couldn't help but bare her teeth, hiding the action behind the thing called a smile that everyone in the conclave seemed to use. The fear that registered behind the maid's disgust each time told Nadia that this woman was the easiest of preys. The kind that thought itself protected

That amused Nadia, and she didn't know if it came from her or the beast.

It was hard to tell anymore.

Just as Nadia thought the maid who drenched herself in the smell of a rotten person would leave and remove herself from Nadia's sight, the woman said something as she glanced at her again.

"Her nails," she paused, as if she were hesitant to say the words, "they're stained quite the shade of red."

It was the tone, not the words, Nadia knew, that nearly made her forego her promises to keep herself safe, to not reveal herself, to not speak. She decided then, that she would never give this maid, this Maribel, a peaceful existence, and should she ever be alone with her, Nadia wouldn't promise to keep tooth and claw tucked safely away.