Chapter Eleven #2
Urien gritted his teeth, forced every muscle to stillness despite the white-hot pain lancing up his leg.
It was Sam’s cat, their Treasure’s beloved companion.
If he moved the wrong way, that could hurt Basil, and hurting Basil would hurt Sam.
Urien would sooner cut off his own arm than cause Sam distress.
“Get off!” Sam dropped to his knees and grabbed Basil around the middle. “What is wrong with you?”
Basil released Urien’s ankle only to twist in Sam’s grip, still hissing, claws swiping at the air between them, his ears lay flat against his skull, and his tail lashed like a whip.
“I’m so sorry.” Sam wrestled Basil toward the hallway, the cat’s claws catching the air inches from Urien’s face. “He’s never - I don’t understand…”
“It’s fine.” Urien rose slowly, hands spread wide, the gesture non-threatening. “Animals sometimes react poorly to strangers.”
“Not Basil.” Sam’s glasses slipped down his nose as he adjusted his grip. “He loves everyone. Mrs. Channing’s nephew visits every month, and Basil sleeps on his lap.”
Basil chose that moment to unleash another demonic hiss. Urien’s dragon snarled back internally, demanding retribution for the indignity, but Urien shoved the impulse down and crouched low, making himself less imposing.
“Hey there.” He kept his voice soft, pitched it the way he did with skittish rabbits in the garden. “I’m not here to hurt anyone.”
Basil’s ears somehow flattened further.
“Let me just…” Sam backed toward the hallway, Basil squirming in his arms. “I’ll put him in the bedroom.”
“Wait.” Urien extended one hand, palm up. Slow. Careful. “Sometimes they just need to smell…”
Basil exploded from Sam’s grip. The cat hit the floor, launched himself at Urien’s outstretched hand, and sank teeth into the webbing between thumb and forefinger.
“Basil, no!”
Pain shot up Urien’s arm. His dragon roared, demanding he shake the creature off, establish dominance over the ridiculous threat, and while it took every ounce of his control, Urien didn’t move.
Sam grabbed Basil again and pried the cat’s jaws open. Blood welled up in neat puncture marks across Urien’s palm.
“I’m calling the vet.” Sam’s face had gone white. “Something’s wrong with him. He’s sick, or…”
“He’s protecting you.” Urien cradled his bleeding hand. “It’s what cats do.”
“By attacking someone who brought vegetables?” Sam’s voice cracked. “That’s not protecting, that’s - Basil, what is wrong with you?”
Basil hissed again, thrashing in Sam’s arms.
Urien took three steps backward, Basil’s struggle intensified... five steps - the cat’s ears lifted slightly.
“I should go.” Urien grabbed a tea towel from the counter and wrapped his hand in it. “Let him settle.”
“You’re bleeding.” Sam looked torn between the cat and Urien. “Let me at least…”
“It’s fine.” Urien kept retreating toward the door. “Really. I’ve had worse from rose thorns.”
“I’ll pay for your dry cleaning. And…and bandages. Medical…”
“Sam.” Urien paused at the door, met Sam’s mortified gaze. “It’s all right. Animals sense things we don’t. He’ll calm down once I’m gone.”
Sam opened his mouth to answer, but Basil had stopped struggling and was now watching Urien with unblinking emerald eyes. Still hostile, but quieter.
“I’m sorry,” Sam said finally. “About the vegetables, and the breakfast, and…”
“Don’t be.” Urien meant it. “The chard recipe still stands. Maybe we could…”
Basil growled.
“Maybe another time,” Urien finished. He let himself out and heard the lock click behind him.
Sitting in the driver’s seat, blood seeping through the tea towel wrapped around his hand, Urien let himself feel it. Not the physical pain - that was already healing. Dragon constitution meant it wouldn’t take long for Basil’s efforts to heal.
The other pain was deeper and a lot more problematic.
The one that came from being recognized for exactly what he was - a predator in their Treasure’s home.
Basil had seen past his human skin to ancient scales and had known on some primal level that Urien could hurt his human with one careless movement.
And the cat was right. That was the worst part. Urien could have ended the attack in seconds and shaken Basil off with barely a thought. He had chosen not to because hurting Sam’s beloved companion would hurt Sam, and hurting Sam was unthinkable even as claws sank into his flesh.
But what did it mean that Sam’s own cat - the creature who loved him most in the world - thought Urien was a threat? What did it mean for their chances if even a twenty-pound tabby knew, instinctively, that dragons didn’t belong in that cozy cottage with its warm kitchen and caring human?
/~/~/~/~/
Mabon looked up from his newspaper when Urien limped into the library. “How did…” He paused, eyes widening as he took in the state of his mate. “What happened to your hand?”
“The cat hates me.” Urien collapsed into the leather chair and started unwrapping the blood-soaked tea towel. The fabric stuck to his palm in places where the blood had begun to dry.
Rux appeared in the doorway, probably drawn by the scent of blood. He took one look at Urien’s shredded palm, the scratches visible on his ankles where his trousers had ridden up, and burst out laughing.
“A cat?” Rux braced himself against the doorframe, shoulders shaking. “You got mauled by a house cat?”
“Twenty pounds of pure, concentrated hatred.” Urien examined the puncture wounds with a grimace.
They’d already started healing, but the scratches on his ankles still stung like he’d been attacked by something far more formidable than a domestic feline.
“I was attacked on sight. He didn’t even wait for an introduction. ”
“What did you do to it?” Mabon set aside his newspaper and retrieved the first aid kit from the desk drawer, though they all knew Urien didn’t really need it. But each man had their own way of showing they cared about each other.
“I existed.” Urien accepted the antiseptic wipe Mabon offered, dabbed at the worst of the scratches. “I was breathing, sitting in Sam’s kitchen. You know, the usual threatening behaviors.”
“You were in Sam’s kitchen?” Mabon abandoned all pretense of tending Urien’s wounds. “We want details. We have to know everything.”
Rux crossed the library and dropped onto the arm of Urien’s chair. “Start from the beginning and don’t skip a single second.”
Urien sighed and pressed another antiseptic wipe to his palm. “I brought vegetables from the garden. The Brandywines and some chard.”
“At dawn,” Mabon added helpfully.
“Yes, thank you, at dawn.” Urien shifted in the chair, tried to ignore how both his mates had gone unnaturally still. “I was leaving the basket on his doorstep when Sam opened the door and invited me in for tea.”
Rux’s hand landed on Urien’s shoulder, gripped tight. “He invited you inside?”
“To make me breakfast.” Urien kept his voice casual. “Well, he offered to. We were about to discuss how to prepare the chard when the cat arrived.”
“And attacked you on sight.” Mabon leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Just like that?”
“Launched himself at my ankle. Sam had to wrestle him off.” Urien tossed the bloody wipe into the bin beside the desk. “He bit my hand when I tried to…I don’t know what I was trying to do. Establish rapport?”
“With a cat.” Rux’s thumb traced circles against Urien’s shoulder blade.
“Animals usually like me.” Urien heard the petulance in his own voice and couldn’t quite suppress it. “The deer in the garden eat from my hand. Birds try to nest in my hair when I’m weeding.”
“This cat bit you,” Mabon pointed out.
“This cat,” Urien said slowly, “knew exactly what I am.”
The library went quiet. Even Rux stopped his gentle stroking.
“Cats can sense…” Mabon started.
“He smelled dragon.” Urien met Mabon’s gaze, then Rux’s. “He saw through whatever glamour we maintain without thinking and recognized a threat to his human.”
“He’s a fricking smart cat,” Rux muttered.
“He’s a terrible cat.” Urien prodded the puncture wounds, watched them close a bit faster now that he’d cleaned them. “Sam was mortified and kept apologizing. He said Basil loves everyone.”
“Except dragons courting his owner.” Mabon sat back and tapped his fingers against the chair arm. “That complicates things.”
“That’s an understatement.” Urien closed his eyes, remembered Sam’s flushed face, his rumpled pajamas, the way he’d looked standing in his cozy kitchen, offering breakfast like it was the most natural thing in the world. “But he invited me back… For the chard recipe, admittedly, but still...”
Rux squeezed his shoulder. “When Basil’s not around to murder you?”
“Something like that.”
Rux was still grinning. “I still can’t believe you got scared off by a cat. You faced down the Glasgow brood without flinching, but one tabby…”
“You should visit Sam.” Urien met Rux’s gaze, his expression innocent. “I’m sure Basil will love you. Perhaps you could bring him some of that salmon you’ve been experimenting with.”
Rux snapped his mouth shut.