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She purses her lips, her eyes going back through the book, finger moving with her gaze.
“Another purpose,” Fox murmurs.
“If we are not shifters, and we are not chimera, what are we?” I ask my mother.
“Abominations, probably,” Scratch mutters, shrugging when I stare at him.
“The rejected,” she says, tapping the page. “A chimera will create children with shifters when he wishes to strengthen his powers. These … children … will be sent away until they reach maturity. When they come back, their life essences will be absorbed by the chimera, bringing him a step closer to immortality.”
“So, we weremadeto be killed,” Fox utters.
My feline brother sounds disturbed by this revelation, but I am not surprised. After everything we’ve already gone through, I didn’t expect to be told I was conceived out of love and nothing more.
“Our mothers did not know of this,” Scratch blurts, surprising me with his insistent tone. “If they did not know what he was, then they could not have known. That is correct, is it not?”
She nods. “None of us … I mean, I’m no longer sure which of our people are shifters now … But your mothers were shifters, so they would not have known.”
He seems satisfied by this answer. He is going to want to meet his mother. I cannot help but be worried over how such a meeting could go. I am not certain it is a smart idea, but I know it will be asked by Fox or Scratch if I do not ask first.
“Do you remember who their mothers were?” I ask, capturing my mother’s attention with the question.
She blinks at me and nods slowly. “Yes, I do. I remember because I was a nurse when they were born.” She turns to Scratch. “I’m sorry to tell you this, but your mother died a few years ago. She worked with our livestock, and she had a beautiful singing voice. I can find a picture for you, if you’d like to know what she looked like?”
Scratch slumps back, his anxious energy gone. “That would be nice. Thank you.”
She smiles sadly at him. “She was a lovely girl. So sweet and pretty. I know she wanted to keep you. There was nothing either of us could do to make that happen.”
“It is okay,” he says. “I would like to hear more about her when we do not have other concerns.”
“I’ll find a picture by the next time you’re here.” She looks to Snake, and back at me. “Can he talk?”
“Snake communicates in hisses and other gestures. We understand him, but he cannot talk.”
She nods, before she looks at him again.
He stares back at her, dark eyes wide and unblinking.
“I’m sorry, but your mother had a hard time giving birth. She didn’t survive for long after you were born. She held you that first night and didn’t let go. I can find a picture of her for you, too.”
He hisses excitedly, nodding his head.
She smiles and turns to Fox.
He already looks sad. “When did my mother die?”
“She didn’t,” my mother tells him. “Zara works teaching children at the nursery. I knew her the least of all the girls, but she knew before she had you that you would be taken away from her. She barely left her house for two years after. Then, she was asked to work at the nursery. That’s all I know.”
“So, my mother is alive?” he sounds stunned.
“I thought you didn’t care,” Scratch mutters.
“I thought I didn’t, but maybe I do.”
“We can talk about meeting her once we’ve dealt with the chimera problem,” I tell him.
“Right, that,” he says. “What’s the plan?”
“Is there a way to identify who the others are in the pack?” I ask, looking at my mother because she still has the book in her hands.
