My Beastly Fertility System Chapter 11: Trouble Brewing

Claire moved along the edge of the shrubs, scanning for the darkest, ripest berries.

Behind her, Mona shot Fiona a sycophantic smile; when Fiona gave the slightest nod of approval, Mona turned back, watching Claire's every move like a hawk.

None of the beastfolk on the ground noticed the shapes circling far above them in the spotless blue sky.

High overhead, several raptors rode the wind currents. The largest was a white gyrfalcon speckled with black, its nearly 20-foot wingspan flashing in the sun as each slow beat sent it gliding far ahead.

Two golden eagles and a peregrine falcon chased in its wake, doing their best to keep up.

"Rufus, what are you sprinting for? Slow down and wait for us!"

The gyrfalcon glanced back and eased off his speed a little.

"If you're this slow, how are we supposed to dominate the next clan sky trials?" he shot back.

The peregrine finally pulled alongside, breathing hard.

"Dominate? That's your job. We're just the cheering section."

Rufus flicked a glance over his shoulder at the others and frowned.

"Where's Rowan? He's usually the first one begging to go out flying."

The peregrine replied, "You didn't hear? He bonded with a female yesterday. My guess? He's not going to be sneaking off with us as much anymore."

Rufus snorted and tilted one wing, climbing higher.

He sneered, "Idiot. What's so great about females? He traded the whole sky for a mate and a nest. If it were me, I'd never let some female clip my wings."

One of the golden eagles chuckled.

"Those are big words, Rufus. That's a female we're talking about. Maybe you just don't know how good they are. None of them like us anyway, but you? You've had more than a few drop hints. Don't tell me not a single one does it for you?"

For a heartbeat, Rufus's mind flashed to a small, stubborn figure clinging to a cliff face, refusing to let go.

"Or maybe you swing the other way. I've heard some of the rogue beastfolk do. You sure you're not secretly into the three of us?"

Rufus snapped, "Get lost. All three of you."

He dipped a wing, annoyance pulling his gaze downward.

With that single glance, he picked out a familiar silhouette on the ground below: a slim fox-clan female standing by a berry bush, reaching for the fruit.

Claire had just found a branch heavy with glossy dark raspberries when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mona drifting toward her again.

Persistent little parasite.

In the original Claire's memories, this was how it always went: every time she reached for something good, Fiona's little entourage swooped in to snatch it. Even when she managed to tuck berries into her leather pouch, those females always found an excuse to dig through it and take them.

In the end, the original Claire turned in almost nothing, and of course, that meant less meat when the clan divided the spoils.

She'd just swallowed it, every single time, shoulders hunched, taking it all in silence.

The Claire standing here now wasn't that girl.

Mona, feeling extra bold under Fiona's approving eye, reached out her furred hand, ready to pull the same stunt and steal the berries at the last second.

Claire's fingers curled, pulling the branch down a few inches. The instant Mona's hand shot forward, Claire let go.

The branch snapped back like a whip.

"Ah!"

Mona's scream tore through the foraging grounds.

The thorn-studded branch slammed into her forearm; the hooked spines drove deep, and fiery pain exploded up her arm as blood welled and ran.

She didn't even dare move—every tiny twitch made the barbed thorns bite deeper.

"It hurts! Help! Fiona, help me!" she sobbed on instinct.

Fiona hissed through her teeth from a safe distance, but she didn't take a single step closer.

Those thorns looked vicious; she wasn't about to risk her own soft skin for anyone, not even her favorite follower.

Mona's eyes were streaming, her nose running, her entire body shaking as she turned a pleading look on Claire.

Claire folded her arms across her chest and simply watched.

Before long, a few males from the guard detail came running; when they saw how the branch was embedded, they froze, looking just as lost as Mona.

Every time she tried to wiggle free, Mona shrieked, which made them hesitate even more.

One of the males immediately shifted into a leopard and bolted back toward the village to fetch Hazel.

The females who had been foraging nearby drifted over, forming a nervous circle around Mona's trapped arm.

"That's got to hurt like crazy."

"She was way too careless."

Mona's vision blurred; she was seconds away from fainting, and for a moment she nearly dropped to her knees in front of Claire.

"Claire, you ... you'll know what to do, right? Please, you have to get this out for me. It hurts so much."

Claire took in her blotchy face and hiccuping sobs and felt nothing but a cool, clean satisfaction.

"What do you expect me to do? If it were me, I'd grit my teeth and yank my arm back in one go. Quick and done."

Mona let out a strangled whimper.

"If I do that, my whole arm will be shredded. Please, I swear I won't bother you again, just help me, I'm begging you!"

No matter how she begged, Claire just crossed her arms and stood with the rest of the onlookers, watching like everyone else.

After what felt like forever, Hazel finally arrived.

She took in the scene with a swift glance, stepped up to the bush, and—without so much as a flinch—grabbed the branch and wrenched it away from Mona's arm.

"Ah! It hurts, it hurts!" Mona screamed.

She hadn't expected Hazel's solution to be exactly the same as the one Claire had casually suggested; she'd had no time to brace herself before the branch tore free.

When she looked down, her forearm was a mess of blood and shredded skin, ragged flesh peeled back in curls that made even the other females go pale.

Clutching her arm, Mona shot Claire a venomous glare and turned to Hazel, ready to complain.