Spreading his arms wide, Nicander turned a small circle for all of them to see. “Better than anyone could ever imagine. There are two breeds of our species now. Arcadians, who have human hearts, and thus that is their primary form.”
The hairs on the back of Urian’s neck stood up. “Meaning what?”
“They’re born human and live their lives primarily as human beings. At puberty, they are able to shift into whatever their alternate animal form is.”
His father narrowed his gaze on him. “And the Katagari?”
“Katagaria is the plural form. Katagari is singular. We are born as animals and have an animal heart. Therefore our base form is that of whatever animal we were born as. In my case, I’m a jackal. Which means I sleep in that form, and if I’m injured or I die, I revert to it. It’s my strongest form.”
“That’s so fucked up,” Archie said.
Urian concurred.
And apparently so did Nicander. “I didn’t choose this anymore than you chose to be Apollite. We were rounded up and experimented on against our wills. This was forced on us. But the upside is that we don’t die at twenty-seven and we don’t have to feed on blood anymore to live.”
Nowthatgot everyone’s attention.
“Beg pardon?” His father stood up.
Nicander nodded. “You heard me. We live hundreds of years. With our magick intact.”
“Sign me up!”
Urian cast a droll look at his son. “Don’t be so quick, Geras. The gods are never so bountiful. There’s always a drawback.”
“He’s right.” Nicander sighed. “As soon as Zeus found out, he demanded that we be put down. When the king refused, we were cursed.”
Urian gave his son an I-told-you-so stare.
“What’s the curse entail?” his father asked.
“The Arcadians and Katagaria are to war against each other and never know peace until the last of us are dead. We cannot choose our mates. They’re chosen for us by the Fates. If we don’t accept who they choose, our males are rendered impotent for the rest of our lives.”
Geras’s eyes bulged in horror as he cupped himself.
Urian smirked. “Take it you changed your mind,m’gios?”
He nodded vigorously.
Nicander sighed again. “Like the animals we are, we’re hunted continuously. Our mates even more so. And when they’re pregnant, they can’t shift forms or use their magick. That’s how I ended up here. I was leading a tessera—a team of four of them—away from my pregnant mate. I’d gotten them clear of her, but couldn’t shake them from my trail. When the portal opened, I didn’t care where it took me, so long as it was away from my enemies.”
Nephele scowled at him. “How do you know when your mates are chosen?”
He held up his hand to show her an intricate pattern that appeared to be branded into his palm. “A matching mark appears on each of our palms to let us know. Once it’s there, we have three weeks to cement the union or we’re screwed. A woman will never be able to have children, and as I said, a man is left impotent.”
“So glad I’m an Apollite,” Geras whispered in Urian’s ear.
Urian elbowed him. “So do the Dark-Hunters hunt you, too?”
He shook his head. “They’re not allowed. Not even if we’re trelos, slayers, or marked.”
His father arched a brow at that. “You still go trelos?”
“Not for the same reasons a Daimon does, but aye. Something about our hormones at puberty causes a similar madness in our species. A slayer is the same thing, only that’s the term they use when it affects a Katagari Were-Hunter … the term given to cover both our branches.”
“And marked?” Urian asked.
“When our council has gotten together and, with Savitar’s approval, determines that someone needs to be put down because he or she is a danger to us all. Once the Omegrion decides, we’re marked for termination and hunted.”
