"For seeing feral where everyone else saw broken."
His smile was answer enough.
We trained until our muscles screamed and exhaustion made our techniques sloppy. When we finally called it, I was drenched in fresh sweat but felt cleaner than I had in years. Not fixed—I doubted I'd ever be fully fixed—but healing. Learning. Becoming.
In the shower afterward (his bathroom, water hot enough to steam mirrors), I catalogued new bruises alongside old scars. Battle marks and love marks existing on the same canvas. The poetry of it might have made me laugh if I wasn't so tired.
Nathan joined me, washing my hair with careful hands while I leaned against his chest. Domestic in ways that should have felt suffocating but instead felt like release. Another protocol broken, another chain cut.
"Moscow next week?" he asked as we dried off.
"Have to arrange the contacts first. Make sure they'll see me." I toweled my hair, considering logistics. "Some might refuse. I wasn't exactly popular among subjects."
"Why?"
"Teacher's pet," I said without bitterness. "Gabriel's favorite. His proof that the program worked. They hated me for thriving where they suffered."
"Did you thrive though?"
I paused, really considering. "I survived by convincing myself I was thriving. There's a difference."
"And now?"
"Now?" I looked at him, this man who'd seen me at my worst and still offered love without conditions. "Now I'm learning what actual thriving looks like."
"What does it look like?"
"Like choice. Like trust. Like being feral instead of broken." I moved into his space, bold in ways that surprised us both. "Like teaching and being taught. Like maybe becoming someone who can love without losing herself."
"I'll take those lessons," he said softly.
"Good." I kissed him, quick but thorough. "Because I'm just getting started."
Later, lying in his bed with city lights painting us silver, I thought about lessons learned and yet to come. In Moscow, I'd face people who knew me before—Batch 47, Gabriel's success story, the rabbit who loved her cage. They'd expect to find the same hollow girl who confused conditioning for care.
They were in for a surprise.
Nathan's breathing evened out beside me, one arm thrown possessively across my waist. I could have moved it, maintained distance, kept walls between us. Instead, I pressed closer, letting his warmth seep into places that had been cold so long I'd forgotten they could thaw.
"I might love you," I whispered into darkness, practicing the words until they felt less like betrayal and more like beginning.
Tomorrow would bring fresh challenges. Contact with other survivors. Plans within plans. The hunt for Gabriel and whoever bankrolled his obsession.
But tonight, I had this. A man who saw wildness where others saw wreckage. A bed that felt like a sanctuary instead of a trap. A body learning it could feel pleasure without permission.
Lessons in being human. In being free. In being feral.
I was an excellent student when properly motivated.
And Nathan? He was one hell of a teacher.
I smiled against his shoulder, already planning tomorrow's training. He'd taught me to trust my instincts in combat. Time to see what other instincts we could unearth.
The rabbit was learning to bare teeth.
Gabriel should have killed me when he had the chance.
13
