Free Beasts and Savages (The Beastly Series Book 1) by Emma Woods

running and crying that had consumed my morning.  Thinking was getting more difficult.  Mom wouldn’t be home for a few more hours.  I fell asleep.
***
“Rough day?” Mother had climbed into bed next to me and was pulling me to her shoulder.
“Terrible.” I rested my head in the crook of her shoulder and let her push the hair out of my face.  It had been years since I had snuggled like this with her, yet instantly I felt protected and loved.
“What happened?”
“Ms. Dawning said that I couldn’t requisition for a later hunt date. That the Department of Fertility requires girls who’ve been cleared to hunt to do so on the day they are scheduled.”
“Oh.” She frowned, but continued to stroke my hair.
“Mom. What are we going to do? I can’t hunt. I can’t! I could never live with myself if I killed someone.”
“Shh, sweetie. Listen. You can hunt without killing.  Mate without hurting the male. I know.”
“How do you know?” I lifted my head to face her. Her eyes shone brightly.
“I think it’s time I told you about my hunts.”
     

 
    Chapter 7
    ~Mom’s Story~
     
"Mom, wait. You remember your hunts?" I knew that my mother was keeping some big dark secret. I thought that Lucille had confided in Mom that she remembered the hunt, not that she remembered her own.
"I do."
"Tell me, please." I sat up, facing her, and crossed my legs.
She rolled on her back and played with the ends of her hair, staring at the ceiling. “My hunt started like they all do. I set out with a friend, and we split up once we felt the effects of our changing. The sun went down, and I found a fire in the woods. There was a boy sitting next to it. He was about my age and size, naked except for a skirt like mine. His back was to me.
“I jumped on him from behind and pulled him to the ground. He just lay there, taking hit after hit. I stopped long enough to growl, ‘why don't you fight?’ in his ear. He was completely still, face planted into the ground. Waiting.
“His silence angered me. I rolled him over and mounted him. His breath caught and his muscles tightened as he searched my face.
“He looked me right in the eyes and said, ‘I volunteered. We’re taught that this is dying by the angel’s hand, a last moment of ecstasy before we ascend to heaven. I leave this world with honor in my name.’
“I didn't understand his words. I still don't. Whatever heaven was he wanted it, and he was sure I was going to give it to him. There was something about his eyes. They were full of strength, yet submissive. Haunting.” Mom shuddered.
“Rage washed over me,” she continued. “I had trained and prepared for a battle. My instincts wanted my body to fight. I slapped him, clawing his face and asked him how he could dare to refuse to fight. He cried out in pain, but never took his eyes off of mine.
“I held him down, my full body weight on his hips, waiting. I was sure if I waited long enough he would fight. Soon, he began squirming. Overcome with rage and a deep hunger in my core, I mated him. The boy continued to move, peaking my ferocity. I began clawing at his chest and arms, digging faster and deeper as the scent of blood reached my nose. When I was finished with him, I was sure he was half dead already. I didn't even use my knife to get to his heart. I was so full of rage I didn't need it.
“Afterward, I ran all the way home. The leaving and running was a blur of redness and trees. My mother had my ceremonial bath waiting on me. I slept for three days after that hunt. When I woke up, I remembered none of it.”
Tears were streaming down my face. I considered telling my mother that there wasn’t enough time for me to train, that I couldn’t go through with mating. I wasn’t going to hunt, instead I was leaving. I wouldn’t be back.
Mother wiped my tears. “Sweetie, I’m sorry. If you want me to stop, I will.” She pulled my face to hers. “But my second hunt, the one in which you were conceived, has a better