But a male breedableonlyconceives male breedables. That’s why Alyra is such an important city. In a world where breedablesare less than a quarter of the population, male breedables are less than a quarter of the entire breedable population.
No one wants this new genetic evolution to die out. Especially not our breedables. They’re some of the most active scientists in genetic research, tirelessly trying to find a solution to ensure their survival.
Taking a breath, I look back down at my phone. Leaving Alyra and its family cities is the only way to keep Iri. That means we leave the safety Iri has had his entire life.
I knew it would come to this when I was a teenager. When my brother showed me just how incompatible our genetics were when it came to breeding. I started searching for a solution right away. If I can’t successfully breed the man who owns my heart, then I need to find us a Plan B so we can stay together.
That plan came two years later. I met a pack online. Yes, I know. Only bad things came from this, especially since I was just a teenager. I’d like to say I vetted them thoroughly, but in reality, I met them while playing video games.
They live in Imari. They’re a few years older than us, and as I got to know them, I also became convinced they’d be a perfect pack for us. Iri was going to adore them. They already loved my breedable, even having never spoken to him.
This was our pack. This was where we were headed. We’ve spent the last ten years working up to this point. We’re about ready.
I’m not even mad about it. I’m excited to be with our pack finally. It’s going to be a happy life, and I’m confident that at least one of these men will be able to breed with Iri. Maybe our child won’t come from my body, but it’ll still come from my mate. I’ll live happily with that.
I finally answer Daunt’s question. The same question he asks weekly.
Me
Not yet. Soon.
IRI
I watchmy class pile in. I’m in the eight-to-eleven age range this year, and I truly love it. This is the age when your love for learning is either fostered or destroyed. Kids innately love to learn because they want to emulate the adults around them, and adults know things.
School brings them closer to becoming peers instead of children who are often not taken seriously because they ‘don’t know.’
My tablet is open, and I tap their names as they come in and take their seats on their mats, facing me. They’re a good class. Kind to each other. Energetic. And so far, I’ve further instilled their love of learning in them.
I teach ancient history. The history of our species and the history of the world as we know it. Two are missing. Tonian has been sick for the last two days, so he might not be coming in. Jorn is usually just late. Always,alwayslate.
Sure enough, three minutes after the time class is scheduled to begin, Jorn rushes in and practically rolls onto his mat. I shake my head, not bothering to hide my smile, while the kids around him giggle.
“Everyone here?” I ask. “Has anyone heard from Tonian?”
“He’s still sick. His parents took him to the doctor’s office,” Lum says.
Poor kid. I nod my thanks at his answer. “Tablets out. Pop quiz.”
A couple of months ago, those two words would have been met by groans. I take quiet pride in the fact I can only hear one groan today. I know exactly who it’s from.
When the rustling stops, I begin. “Question one—How many designations were there a thousand years ago? What were they?”
I scan the room, watching as everyone’s pens scribble on their tablets. “Question two—How many are there now? Are they the same as what existed a thousand years ago?”
I give them a few minutes to give me their answers before moving on. “Question three—What is the biggest evolutionary change over the last thousand years and when did it occur?”
While these are all relatively short answers, I allow them a few minutes to write as much as they want. I’m expecting a variation between the least number of words possible to answer correctly and entire paragraphs. They know if they don’t have the exact answer, providing me with relevant information, they’ll still earn points, even if not the full points.
I contemplate a fourth question but decide, for now, I’m going to leave it up for discussion. “Turn in your assignment when you’re finished.”
Immediately, the green dots beside their names in the column designated for the quiz begin turning green. Rapidly at first and then more slowly as the rest finish. Frez is always the last. He worries the most about his assignments, and yet, consistently scores full points. He knows his shit, but he lacks confidence.
When it turns green, I nod. “How many designations were there a thousand years ago?” Hands fly into the air. “Lum.”
“Three—Alpha, beta, omega.”
More hands follow his, some waving for attention. “Jorn.”