Something inside me flamed into life. It was black, terrifying, and powerful, a monster that lived in the depths of my soul, waking only when I was in distress. Like now. I wanted to lash out. I wanted to kill every one of them because they didn’t deserve to live. But I did my best to calm myself down. My father always told me that violence was never the best answer, and it should never be the first answer to any problem either. In times of conflict, a good alpha would always be the first to offer an olive branch. And so I said in a controlled voice, “If you promise not to do this again, I will forget about this.”
There was a moment of silence before the hyenas cackled in laughter.
“You sure are good at making jokes, pretty lady. I gotta give you that.” Butcher licked his lips. “It pleases me, so whatdya say about me makin’ you happy, too?”
Butcher unzipped his pants to show me his…thing. It was the last thing he did. It was the last thing any one of the hyenas did before hell came for them.
Chapter Three
When I was four years old, I came upon a hunter while playing in the forest. He had been the first human I had met. He had been on his knees, mutilating a deer while it was still alive.
The last thing I remembered was the excruciating pain shining in the deer’s eyes. Everything else was shrouded in blackness. When I woke up, the hunter was dead, mutilated in the same way the deer was.
Three more memories would be forever lost to me by the time people finally realized what was going on. In all those instances, I remembered seeing something bad and passing out after. And when I woke up, the only clues I’d have to those missing minutes of my life would be the dead bodies around me.
The worst of those incidents happened when I was seven. My father had thrown a party to celebrate my birthday. One of the guests’ younger sons had tried to rape one of our house servants. I never saw the boy again after that day.
****
A part of me was not surprised when I heard the knock on the door and then my father coming in. I sat up on my bed as he sat next to me.
“How you doing, cub?” His voice was gruff. I could tell he was still worried about the older boy that went missing in the party.
“I’m sorry, Papa.” I looked down at my clenched fists. I was trying very hard not to cry. It was my fault all those men were angry at Papa. I wished I could tell them where the boy went. I knew a part of me would know where that boy was. But I just couldn’t remember.
“You did nothing wrong.”
I looked up at his harsh words. “But Papa—”
He shook his head. “Listen to me. Have you ever known me to lie?”
“No, Papa.”
“Then you know I am telling you the truth when I tell you that you have done nothing wrong.”
My heart eased at his words. Warriors never lied, and since Papa was the greatest warrior of all then it must be true. I had done nothing wrong.
My father cleared his throat. “I have something for you.” My eyes widened when I saw Stefano’s prized comics in his hands. “Do you know what these are?”
I nodded. “Stefano’s comics. They’re about superheroes.” Sometimes, Stefano let me read them, when I wasn’t being “stubborn”, whatever that meant.
“I want you to read them, too.”
“Why?”
“Because their stories are just like yours.”
My eyes widened at Papa’s answer. “They are?” I glanced down at the comics he gave me, which were new and still covered in plastic. I realized then these weren’t actually Stefano’s. Papa had really bought them for me.
Thinking about his words, I asked slowly, “Are they also adopted?” Was that what he meant?
“Well, some of them are, but that’s not the point. You see, cub, they are all ‘different’ like you. Unique. They had…powers…abilities…that no one could understand. Even they didn’t understand their own powers at the start. So when people saw them using their powers—”
“The people told them to stop.” I remembered the boy’s mother screaming at me. She had told me to stop. She had called me a monster. “They thought I would…” I shook my head, confused. “They thought the superheroes might hurt them.”
“But they were wrong.” Papa’s voice was vehement. “The superheroes you read about in these comics…they don’t care what those other people say. All they want is to make the world a better place, and they sometimes need to use their powers to do that.” My father paused. Then he looked at me and said in a serious voice, “You are like them, Calys. You make the world a safer, happier, and better place for everyone. But your powers are very strong, too. So before you can help others, you need to learn how to control your powers. You need to do everything you can first without…” Papa stressed the last word. “—your powers.”