Unitary

by Lexy Timms

  Shattering into a million pieces.

  I know there’s a good chance I could die in this war. Die defending a bunch of theories we have no way of confirming. Sebastian and Clarissa both are dead set on what the Council’s trying to do. Use the serums to change the human population into what Clarissa and Kyle have become while still trying to hunt down Clarissa to use as their personal weapon. From their assumption was born the theory that Kyle is now their main weapon. That we will eventually encounter Kyle on the battlefield and stand toe-to-toe with him and the enemy.

  But it’s all so outlandish.

  And not a bit of it has to do with me.

  Striking out on my own is the only way I’ve ever known. At a Cat’s core, there is a loner mentality. We are independent. We are strong. We are wise, and we always try to take the route of talking before doing. We are innovators and evolutionary experts. We aren’t fighters. We aren’t manipulators. Sebastian thinks he’s doing Clarissa a favor by manipulating her in his plan, but I know better. I know she will find out, and I know she will be angry, and she will look to me and ask her why I didn’t tell her. Why I didn’t come clean with her.

  If there is one thing Cats aren’t, it’s self-sacrificial. I’m not sacrificing myself in a war that doesn’t concern me, and I’m not being made the scapegoat for Clarissa’s anger when this plan ultimately falls apart.

  I don’t want to lose my life over someone else’s problems. I’m tired of everything falling on my back. I’m tired of fighting with the idiotic Wolf, and I’m tired of watching Clarissa fall all over every other man except me. They don’t deserve her. Kyle wasn’t strong enough to protect her from the world she had been exposed to, and Sebastian’s too possessive. To controlling of such a free spirit. He wants to cage her, but I want her to run free.

  I want to run by her side and be free with her.

  Theo would want her to settle down in his tribe so he could become clan leader, but I know Clarissa doesn’t want that. Joel wants her to stay behind in this village of humans and give him more children than anyone else, but I know she doesn't want that either. Vlad wants to claim her and fuck her senseless to get her out of his system, and she deserves way more than that.

  I can give her what she wants.

  But she can’t see it.

  And I can’t give my life for a woman who can’t see how perfect we are for one another.

  I won’t.

  Chapter 17

  Kyle

  “S ebastian? Can you hear me?”

  I jam my back up into the roof of my caged prison as my mind calls out to him again.

  “Sebastian? Theo? Can anyone hear me?”

  I have no idea how I did it the first time, but they aren’t there. I can’t hear them. I can’t sense them. I don’t even feel any different. I slam my back up against the roof again as anger boils through my veins. I’m tired of this. Tired of fighting and being experimented on. I’m tired of them drawing blood and drugging me up for their idiotic tests. I keep blacking out. My vision keeps changing. I’ve got voices in my head, and there are moments where my anger is uncontrollable.

  I don’t know what kind of side effects these drugs are having on me, but it’s bad.

  There’s a prisoner down here with me. A man. With rugged features, beady black eyes, and teeth he frequently snarls at people. His limbs are long, and he’s practically curled up into a ball the entire time. They hardly feed him, but he isn’t experimented on.

  I don’t know who he is, and I don’t care.

  All I care about is getting out of here.

  The guards are whispering about things, and every once in a while, I can catch what they are saying. War. Battle. The forest. A village. Serums and spears and humans and transfiguration. None of it makes sense. Every time they haul me off for experimentation, I come back a little different. I don’t know why. I don’t know what they’re doing. But I know my appetite is changing. Things I would’ve turned my nose up at—things that would’ve usually made me sick—now don’t. Barely-cooked meat and Brussels sprouts and bones.

  Bones!

  I’m craving bones for fuck’s sake.

  “Somebody! Anybody! Come on!”

  I ram my back against the roof of the cage against before a man steps into view. His foot kicks up against the bars of my cage, and it startles me. My vision changes again, and I can see in thermal vision. I have no idea how I can, and I don’t know how to switch it off, but his leg is glowing red. But the bars he kicked are glowing red, too. Which means they’re very hot.

  Which means they’re very weak.

  I reach my hands out and focus on my anger. I pull and tug as the guards begin to laugh at me. I’m naked and afraid, but my anger is overpowering. I can smell things I’ve never smelled before down here. Like the dripping of sweat and the stench of their unbrushed teeth. I can hear droplets of water falling from the ceiling and people murmuring in other rooms. I block out every single sensation and feel the bars finally give beneath my hands, and that’s when it happens.

  That’s when the guards start to take a step back.

  I rip the bars from the cage and burst up from the roof. My fists are clenching, and my veins are throbbing. Growing with the need for more blood. My eyes focus on the guards that have their spears pointed at me, and they are yelling. Calling out for help and backup and whatever else they think will save them.

  I don’t know how, but I know they can’t put their hands on me.

  And I take advantage of it.

  “Help me!”

  Before I can take a step, the prisoner calls out to me. I turn my face and see his hand jutting through the cage. He’s weak. Tired. Hungry. His hand is trembling and the veins in his arms are physically sinking in. Denting his skin and making him look as if the earth is sucking him dry. I turn my head back toward the guards as they watch me, their spears poised in the air.

  But they aren’t charging me.

  Someone has given them orders not to.

  I stride over to the cage and hold it over my head. I bring it crashing down to the floor, and it physically shatters at my feet. The iron and lead bars scatter as the guards gasp, then one of them begins to roar for help.

  “We need backup in here! He’s gone berserk!”

  They are right. I have gone berserk. If they think they can keep me cooped up here when Clarissa’s in trouble, then they have another thing coming. I help the man up to his feet, and he points his finger towards the back, his projection leading my eyes to a dark corridor.

  “That way,” he says breathlessly. “Go.”

  I run with him in my arms as if he weighs nothing. Fuck, whatever they are experimenting on me with isn’t right. I don’t know what it is, but my fear is that it’s the same thing that changed Clarissa.

  Are they trying to make me one of them?

  My legs carry me down the hallway, and I follow every direction the man in my arms gives me. Take a left. A right. All the way down and through the door. There are endless sets of steps we have to walk up, and I can feel myself finally growing winded.

  “We’re close. One more floor,” the man says.

  “Who are you?” I ask.

  I hear him sigh, and I pause outside of the last door.

  “Who are you?”

  “My name is Lord Wesley,” he says. “And I was part of the Council.”

  My nostrils flare at the name.

  “You’re one of them,” I say as I drop him to the floor.

  “I was,” he says. “But what they’re doing. it’s madness.”

  “Who? What are they doing?” I ask.

  “We don’t have time. Please. Take me with you.”

  “Not until you tell me what the hell’s going on,” I say.

  I watch the man recoil from me as he scoots back into the wall. For a man who’s supposed to be with the Council that set out to kill Clarissa, he sure isn’t strong. Or ballsy. He’s pathetic, and it makes me sick. I hover over him, ready to snap h
is neck if he tells me he’s had anything to do with the ordering of Clarissa’s death.

  Or mine.

  “I don’t care where you drop me, but you can’t leave me here. I’ll tell you what you want to know if you get me out of here,” the man says.

  I can hear the guards’ footsteps fumbling up the steps, and my head turns. I can see their shadows, and I know we don’t have much time. Going against my gut, I pick the man up in my arms and crash through the door. He continues to point me down hallways and tell me when to stop so we can avoid the guards he obviously knows are there. My body is weakening. I can feel it struggling. Maybe the latest experimentation is wearing off.

  “Through that door,” the man says. “That’s the back exit.”

  I run down the hallway as fast as my naked legs can carry me. I crash through it with my shoulder, howling as I stumble out into the cold. The snow is icy against my skin, but I don’t feel the need to shiver. I look down at the man in my arms. He looks me in my eyes, and that’s when I see it.

  My reflection for the first time in weeks.

  My eyes are swirling with colors, and my hair isn’t the same. Instead of the blonde is used to be, it’s now a brazen, deep red. My blue eyes are swirling with green and purple and yellow, and my bulging veins are pulsing with black and red undertones.

  I’m not the same.

  But what am I?

  I take off down the alleyway, desperate to get away from that damn building. I run until my legs can’t physically carry me any longer, then I dip into the closest abandoned house. I drop the man from my arms and fall to my knees, panting and heaving as my hands hit the floor. I can feel the lactic acid in my muscles building up and moving through my veins. I can feel my muscles breaking down and rebuilding themselves. I can feel every moving hair on my body and sense every tingling sensation as my heart tries to settle itself.

  “What is happening to me?” I ask.

  I hear the man groan as he rolls over on the floor.

  “You promised me answers, now talk,” I say.

  “Thank you,” he says. “For getting me out.”

  “I’m not going to ask again.”

  “The Council is gearing up for war, but their want for it isn’t right. One faction of the Council wants to eliminate humans from the planet and allow Primals to take their natural evolutionary path and another faction wants to change the humans into us.”

  “What?” I ask. “How do you know this?”

  “Because up until the war room meeting, I was on the side of changing the humans.”

  A growl emanates from my throat as I stalk toward the man.

  “Did you order the death of Clarissa?” I ask.

  “We all did,” he says. “It was a conglomerate effort.”

  “Did you order mine?” I ask.

  “No,” he says. “That’s been taken care of. A hoard of Cats that broke off from their traditional ways and decided to take matters into their own hands.”

  “What am I?” I ask.

  “You’re their creation.”

  So they have turned me into what Clarissa is.

  “Whose creation?” I ask.

  “The hoard of Cats that broke off. Led by a man by the name of Igo. But your mate—she was clever. She hunted them down and came after them, and almost slaughtered the lot of us trying to avenge your death.”

  “Is she hurt? Is she alive?”

  “Oh yes. Alive and well. That is why this war is still proceeding forward. She’s the inception point of all this. She’s the trigger point for both sides. The faction that wants human annihilation wants to use her as a weapon to kill them before destroying her.”

  “That isn’t happening,” I growl.

  “The other faction wants to use her as a distribution point for the serum that will change humans into being like you and Clarissa.”

  “I’m not following.”

  “Project Eden—the experiment that changed Clarissa—it was only meant for female fetuses. But the hoard of Cats that split off determined that they could use the serum on human men as a way to make them stronger, more capable Primals. Warriors. Soldiers. Men fit to procreate with the insatiable cravings mounted in the women turned by the same serum.”

  “Women like Clarissa,” I say.

  “Yes. But her and those men she hangs out with? They enjoy poking the beast. Timetables have been moved up, and the Council is out for blood. She challenges their superiority, and they don’t like it.”

  “So you kill her? That’s your plan?”

  “Not me. When the war room meeting took place—”

  “What’s that?” I ask.

  “It’s the meeting the Council holds to map out battle plans. When that took place, I suggested a diplomatic approach. I still believe humans and Primals can coexist. If the Primals want to go public with their existence, then we can give men and women the option of becoming like us. And whatever they choose, it doesn’t seal a fate. Everyone gets a say, everyone coexists, and no war has to happen.”

  “So they threw you in prison for your opinion,” I say.

  “Yes. They did.”

  “I can’t stay here. I have to go find her. I know she’s here. I can sense her.”

  “Then go. I’ll be fine.”

  “You don’t look fine.”

  “Give me one good meal and a shower and I’ll be perfect,” he growls. “Now get out of here and go alert them. I highly doubt they know what they’re walking into, and it’s not good for either side. When blood lust creeps up the nostrils of a Primal, all rationale goes out the window. This war will not end well for anyone involved.”

  My eyes whip up to the door before falling back to the man.

  “Are you sure there isn’t somewhere I can take you?” I ask.

  “I have my own village to get back to. Don’t worry. I can take care of myself. But you need to get out of here.”

  I hesitate, readying myself to offer again.

  “Go!” he roars.

  I scurry out the front door, leaving the man in the abandoned house. I run through the snow, my nose poised in the air. I can smell her. Clarissa. She’s faint. The smell is faint. But it’s there. The snow is pouring down around my naked form, but I’m not cold. If anything, it’s soothing. Comforting to feel after being so cooped up. I can feel myself growing stronger. I can feel the Primal lust washing through my veins. Night begins to fall, and I curl up against a tree, sleeping with one eye open and an ear trained on the horizon.

  I find the edge of the woods and her scent is stronger than ever. I keep calling out to her in my mind, but I can’t get in touch with her. She’s closed off. She’s constructed a wall. I can feel my mind physically running into it. I scream for Sebastian and cry out for Theo. I wish someone would answer me so I could figure out where they are.

  Their scents are so close, and it’s so frustrating to not know where to look.

  Night falls again and I curl up in a snow embankment. My body is alert, my ears trained on the sounds around me. But the whisper of voices talking pulls me from my sleep.

  Is someone around me?

  I peek out from the embankment, but I see nothing. I can hear the whispers and the feet walking around in the snow, and the sound begins to mount. Dozens—no, hundreds—of feet are trampling the snow. The sun is beginning to rise on my third day. A smoky haze settles around my body. I sniff the air deeply and relax with the smell of wood.

  Fire.

  Someone’s burning fire somewhere.

  I leap to my feet and take off into the haze. I run as fast as I can, watching as the smoke grows thicker. I fall to all fours and begin running as the smoke completely encompasses me. It’s hard to breathe. I’m beginning to choke. I can hear the footsteps and the voices growing louder as I approach the center of the smoke, and then miraculously it breaks.

  And I’m standing in front of a hoard of people pouring from little cottage homes.

  I rise up onto my feet, completely aware of t
he fact that I’m naked. Women are ogling me and covering the eyes of their children. Men are drawing weapons, preparing to fight me to the death. My eyes are darting around as I sniff the air. I’m trying to track Clarissa’s scent, but it’s buried underneath everything else. Lettuce and beets and corn and radishes.

  My stomach growls as a voice pierces through the sounds my ears won’t let go of.

  “Kyle?”

  I whip my head around, trying to follow the voice that calls my name. The voice is sweet. Breathless.

  “Kyle!”

  It’s Clarissa. That’s Clarissa’s voice I hear.

  Holy shit. I have found her. The love of my life. My dedicated wife.

  I finally found her.

  Chapter 18

  Clarissa

  The commotion of the people outside draws all of us to the window. Women are embracing their children as Josie and Joel dash outside. Men are pulling their weapons as I follow their line of sight, and Sebastian’s hands come down heavily onto my shoulders.

  “Stay here,” he says. “We’ll go have a look.”

  “Stop,” I say.

  My eyes focus, and I squint them as they flicker. The image is getting sharper and sharper, and soon my heart leaps from my chest. I pry myself away from Sebastian’s grasp and throw the door open, then stumble out onto the steps.

  It’s Kyle.

  Oh, my gosh, Kyle’s here.

  I push everyone off to the side as I call out his name. But he looks at me as if he doesn’t recognize me. But I recognize him. Every swollen muscle and every throbbing vein and every puckering piece of skin.