Page 24 of It's Kind of a Bunny Story
The sharp spike in my temperature had nothing to do with my anger. A powerful cramp twisted my insides, nearly sending me to my knees. I continued to ignore the demands of the heat that were growing stronger, because having Fletcher understand me was something I needed more.
“The more men my stupid little heart bonded to, the more control the burrow would have over me, since I’d never be able to leave unless I was willing to risk dying from separation.” My hands balled into fists at my sides. “I never would have had a fluffle of my own. And for the first time in my life, I feel loved!”
“They planned to do what?”
Charlee must’ve forgotten Copeland and I were still in the room, witnessing the outburst, because my roar of outrage caused her to jump, her trembling hand clutching the front of the T-shirt over her heart.
“Linc!” Copeland snapped, leaping up to wrap her protectively in his arms.
I hadn’t meant to scare her, but my wolf was rattling its cage, making it impossible to think with clarity.
“What was your burrow planning for you?” I repeated my question, doing my best to rein in my rage.
“Our burrow takes the stance that the females belong to all the men. They claim it’s a way to ensure every woman receives equal attention and has all her needs met. But that’s a pretty lieto cover up the truth,” Charlee answered, her words slow and measured.
I heard the words, but couldn’t seem to process them. “What about having a home? A family?”
Charlee refused to lift her gaze from the floor. “Women don’t get to have possessions. The men own all the land and houses, while the women live together in a community building with individual rooms. Like a dorm room. The only time we stay somewhere else is if a fluffle takes you to their home for a few days.”
“The men in your burrow can check females out like they’re library books to enjoy and then return when they’re ready for the next one?” I prayed I had misunderstood.
It was Fletcher who answered this time. “Pretty much. The only women off limits are those who are pregnant and those who haven’t had their first heat. But once a female has her first heat, she’s considered fair game.”
“What about pregnant females? Do their mates take care of them?” Copeland asked.
Charlee scoffed. “Are you joking? That would require too much work for the men. Pregnant women stay in the community building and are cared for by the other females. The only reason we know who our fathers are is from the paternity test done at birth. The test isn’t done so that the male can step up and be a dad—” She gave a harsh laugh before continuing. “No, it’s just to make sure no inbreeding happens. The only time I met my father was when I passed him in the hallway when he was on the way to a booty call.”
I couldn’t have spoken if I’d wanted to. The hair on my arms stood on end as my wolf’s magic pushed to the surface, trying to force a shift. Not yet. I needed to learn as much as I could about the men I’d be taking off the Grim Reaper’s roster ASAP.
“And the children?” Copeland rubbed slow, soothing circles on her lower back.
Charlee stared unseeing out the window. “They are raised by the women until they reach school age. Then they’re moved to a part of the building that is dedicated to them. The women take turns volunteering, so you still see your kids, but they are raised by the community.”
Copeland’s hand froze. “The dads aren’t involved at all?”
“Not with the girls. Once a boy is older, a lot of the dads will start spending time with them and preparing them for their place in the burrow.” Charlee sighed. “It wasn’t all bad. As long as we didn’t question the men, we were treated well.”
“How can you say that?!” Fletcher dropped his hands, staring at her in disbelief.
Charlee shrugged. “Most of the women were satisfied with how things were done. I was told countless times to stop complaining because we were well fed, clothed, and safe.”
“They are probably brainwashed!” I growled. “None of this is normal or anywhere close to being acceptable.”
Fletcher strode across the room and kneeled in front of her. “Charlee, you didn’t deserve any of the punishments the council poured out on you.”
Her lip trembled as she continued staring out the window. “If I’d stayed quiet, I wouldn’t have kept being tossed in front of the council for breaking the rules.”
“You were imprisoned for three weeks for asking to choose your mates. You were starved for building a treehouse to hide away from the noise of the dorms. You were beaten until you couldn’t walk because you went to the lake to swim instead of attending the burrow’s party where they show off the women about to go into heat as if you were all part of a meat market. You were stripped naked and caged in the middle of the town fordemanding the right to decide who shared your bed.” Fletcher’s chest was heaving by the time he finished.
Reaching out, he gently lifted the hem of the shirt, displaying the pale white lines. Charlee shivered as he brushed his fingers across them.
“How many times? How many times were you whipped for no other reason than asking them to explain their reasoning? For daring to question them? For pleading for rights that were unquestionably yours?” A tear slid down the male rabbit’s cheek, but I felt no pity.
The only thing I wanted to feel was my fingers around his neck, strangling the life out of him.
“You were always there for me.” Charlee turned and rested her hand on his cheek. “Sneaking me food, cleaning my wounds, sleeping outside the cage. Remember when the council discovered you’d given me your coat to cover myself with inside the cage? They forced me to give it back because I wasn’t allowed to wear any garment as part of the punishment.”
Charlee laughed. “So you covered the entire cage with blankets, and when they demanded you remove them, you told them I wasn’t wearing anything, only the cage was. They were livid! I thought your dad was going to throw you inside the cage with me.”
