Taming the Wild Beast of Alamina

Arion was beginning to understand that leaving Claudia’s Palace would be considerably more complicated than entering it.

The nearest beast had settled its enormous head against his thigh, demanding attention with the same shameless persistence Boreas displayed whenever someone stopped scratching his ears. Another occupied the space behind him, effectively blocking the corridor, while the remaining animals watched from various positions around the ruined entrance hall.

Nero stood several meters away, looking at the collection of corrupted creatures with an expression of profound dissatisfaction.

”You cannot take them home. Dean already has Boreas, and I doubt your medical board will appreciate twelve infected beasts wandering through the imperial gardens.”

Arion looked down at the animal leaning against him.

”I heard you the first time.”

”Then explain how you intend to get rid of them.”

That was an excellent question.

Unfortunately, Arion was becoming increasingly uninterested in answering it.

The strange heaviness had returned to his head, making Nero’s voice sound slightly distant despite the fact that his cousin stood close enough to touch him. His thoughts remained coherent, but reaching for them required more effort than it should have, and the unfamiliar pressure at the edges of his senses was gradually becoming more insistent.

The beasts wanted something.

Arion closed his eyes.

He could feel their attention moving around him, twelve separate presences that seemed to settle whenever he acknowledged them. They were not communicating with words, but his mind kept supplying meaning to their expectations with an ease that bothered him considerably less than it should have.

They wanted to follow him.

That was the problem.

Arion had no intention of bringing twelve enormous infected animals onto an aircraft, much less introducing them to his pregnant mate.

Dean would have questions.

His medical board would have considerably more.

The nearest beast pushed its head harder against his hand.

Arion sighed.

Just be good boys.

The thought settled into his mind with an almost unreasonable simplicity.

They should be smaller.

Less threatening.

Something that could sit quietly without crushing the furniture or making half the palace reach for emergency weapons.

Normal dogs would have been nice.

Arion looked down at the animal.

”Be good boys.”

His voice sounded slightly rough.

The beast stopped moving.

Across the entrance hall, the other animals lifted their heads.

Nero turned toward him.

”That sounds suspiciously like something you say to Boreas.”

Arion barely heard him.

His pheromones had begun changing again.

Vetiver receded beneath a deeper, unfamiliar scent, and the black channels beneath his skin appeared almost immediately, tracing the backs of his hands before disappearing beneath the cuffs of his shirt.

The beast in front of him lowered its head.

Then its body changed.

Arion stared.

The enormous shoulders contracted first, hardened ridges along the spine withdrawing beneath the dark hide as the animal’s legs shortened and its torso became narrower. The transformation moved through its body with disturbing fluidity, reshaping muscle and bone without the violent convulsions Arion would have expected from something undergoing such an impossible change.

Within seconds, the creature standing in front of him was no longer enormous.

It was a dog.

A perfectly ordinary-looking dog with dark brown fur, broad paws, a thick tail, and eyes that were entirely black.

Smaller than Boreas. Considerably smaller.

The animal sat.

Then its tail began moving.

Nero stopped breathing for a second.

Behind Arion, another beast changed.

Then another.

The transformation spread through the entrance hall until the enormous corrupted animals that had occupied most of the available floor space were replaced by twelve dogs of varying sizes and coat colors.

One looked like an oversized shepherd.

Another had the stocky build of a mountain dog.

A third possessed long black fur and an expression of such remarkable innocence that Arion immediately distrusted it.

All twelve had the same completely black eyes.

Otherwise, they looked normal.

Arion stared at them.

The first dog approached and pressed its head against his knee.

He looked down.

Then toward Nero.

His cousin was standing exactly where Arion had left him, one hand still half-raised from whatever gesture he had been making before the transformation began.

His mouth was slightly open.

For once in his life, Nero had absolutely nothing to say.

Arion found that almost more remarkable than the dogs.

Hendrik arrived from the western corridor with Hale behind him, both men stopping abruptly when they saw what had happened to the entrance hall.

The commander looked around.

Then at Arion. Then at the dogs.

”Where are the beasts?”

Nero slowly pointed toward the animals.

Hendrik stared.

One of the dogs wagged its tail.

Hale looked down at the black-eyed creature approaching his boots, his hand moving instinctively toward the weapon at his hip.

”Your Highness?”

Arion rubbed his forehead.

”I told them to behave.”

Hendrik’s expression became very still.

”And that made them smaller?”

”Apparently.”

Nero finally found his voice.

”You turned twelve infected beasts into fucking dogs.”

Arion looked toward him.

”I noticed.”

”That is not an ability you mentioned having.”

”I didn’t know I had it.”

Hendrik took a slow breath.

Arion recognized the expression immediately.

The commander was deciding whether he needed to order the entire room evacuated, place the crown prince in medical containment, or simply accept that his working conditions had deteriorated beyond reasonable expectations.

Unfortunately, Arion could not provide him with a useful answer.

The animals had become dogs.

He had no idea how.

The black lines beneath his skin were already retreating, fading across his wrists as his pheromones returned to their familiar profile.

Then the heaviness inside his head disappeared.

Arion blinked.

The change was immediate enough that he straightened without thinking.

His mind felt clear.

His body no longer seemed interested in sleeping.

Even the strange pressure at the edges of his awareness had settled into something much quieter.

He looked down at the first dog.

It was still sitting.

Still wagging its tail.

Still staring at him with completely black eyes.

”Victor.”

Hendrik activated his communication channel.

The physician answered from the lower medical wing, where the rescued dominants were being prepared for transport.

”What happened?”

Hendrik looked toward Arion.

Arion looked toward Nero.

Nero smiled slowly.

”Your patient made puppies.”

There was a long silence.

Then Victor said, ”What the actual fuck... I am coming upstairs.”

Arion closed his eyes.

Hendrik approached cautiously, stopping several steps away from the nearest dog.

”Are they still infected?”

Arion looked toward the animals.

Their corrupted pheromonal profiles had diminished considerably, but the familiar undertone remained.

”Yes.”

”And are they going to stay like this?”

”I don’t know.”

Hendrik rubbed one hand over his face.

”That is not reassuring.”

”I am not particularly reassured myself.”

Nero crouched in front of the nearest animal.

The dog watched him.

Nero extended one finger and touched its forehead.

It leaned forward, apparently interpreting the gesture as an invitation for affection.

Nero stared at it.

Then he looked up at Arion.

”Dean is going to love this.”

Arion’s expression flattened.

That was when the true scale of the problem occurred to him.

He had left his pregnant mate behind because Claudia’s Palace was too dangerous.

He had promised to return safely.

He had then allowed infected beasts to kill Claudia, discovered that his own pheromones could apparently command them, and somehow transformed twelve enormous corrupted animals into dogs.

Dogs that were currently following him around like he was their owner.

Arion looked toward Hendrik.

”How the fuck am I supposed to explain this to Dean?”

Nero started laughing.

Hendrik did not.

The commander was still looking at the dogs, clearly considering whether containing twelve apparently harmless animals was preferable to attempting containment of the man who had made them.

Behind Arion, the smallest dog sneezed.

Then it sat on his boot.

Arion looked down at it.

He was never going to hear the end of this.