Chapter 12
Sandra
The smells coming from the kitchen hit me in waves, each one more irresistible than the last.
Chicken, that's for sure, I recognise the aroma. I also smell the slightly sweet scent of fruit. My mouth waters before I realise it, and my tail moves involuntarily, as if it had a mind of its own.
I should be looking for ways to escape, but my stomach has other priorities.
It's been a while since I've eaten anything decent.
I can't even remember the last time I ate anything other than a peanut butter and milk sandwich.
Ironically, being trapped in this feline body, it seems that my diet is about to improve considerably.
Mark leaves the kitchen with two jars — one in each hand — and walks towards me. My heart races, and I sit up, curious.
He stops in front of me, crouches down, and places the jars in front of me.
"Bon appétit, kitten."
My feline eyes widen when I see the feast. In one of the jars, the chicken is shredded to perfection, accompanied by small pieces of carrot and courgette, arranged so harmoniously that it could be served in a restaurant.
In the other jar, a portion of carefully cut fruit — watermelon and some blueberries.
"Eat and rest."
For a moment, I think about ignoring the food out of sheer pride, but the smell hits me again, and my stomach growls loudly enough to betray any attempt at resistance. I lower my head and take a cautious bite of the chicken.
Oh! By the stars. How delicious.
As I devour the food, my thoughts become hazy.
Is staying here a little longer really that bad?
He seems determined to take care of me, and I really need strength if I want to escape.
After filling my belly, I wait for a moment when he leaves me alone to try to escape. However, to my misfortune, Mark settles into his home office, which, with no doors to separate the rooms, gives him a clear view of the living room.
From where he is sitting, he only has to turn his head slightly to watch me, and he would certainly notice if I tried to sneak behind him or go upstairs.
Sleep eventually overcomes me, and I take a nap.
When I regain consciousness, I know that a few hours have passed, as the sky outside the windows is completely dark. The night is silent, except for the annoying sound of Mark's computer keys.
Oh, no! He's still there, working.
I had a whole plan worked out to escape, and he just won't leave. From time to time, he stops typing and stares at me. His eyes are fixed, almost challenging. It's as if he's waiting for me to do something.
Fear sends a shiver down my spine.
I'm sure he thinks I'm just a cat, but he'll soon become suspicious if I don't act right.
Behave like a cat, Sandra, I tell myself.
What to do? What to do?
Oh, for heaven's sake, do something, quick!
So, with my heart racing, I lift a paw and start licking it.
Argh! Bad choice!
The feeling of the hairs on my tongue is repulsive. I almost choke, fighting the urge to vomit right there. Unable to hide it very well, I run to the water fountain at the foot of the kitchen counter and start drinking frantically, trying to clean my mouth.
This is so humiliating!
One day, I'll laugh about this. Today is not that day.
I take a deep breath and examine the windows. All of them are closed except for one — the one right next to Mark. A tiny crack is open, just enough for my paw to fit through. Maybe if I can push it open, I can escape that way.
I just need to wait for him to leave...
As if by magic, he stands up.
My heart races.
Now's the time!
He's going to leave the office and I...
Knocks on the door interrupt my thoughts.
Damn!
He sensed the visitor's presence even before they arrived. Of course he did, he's a supernatural hunter.
And I'm one of those things.
My mind races, weighing the options. When he opens the door, I can try to escape through it. But he'll be right there, ready to chase after me. The other option is to take advantage of the distraction and try the window.
Okay. That's it. The window.
I climb onto his desk, my paws slipping a little on the scattered papers.
Some fall to the floor, but I ignore the noise.
The window is right there. I push the glass with all my strength, but it's too heavy.
The gap remains tiny, relentless. I try again, my whole body straining, but it's like trying to move a mountain with my paws.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
I turn to peek at the door. A man enters.
He's huge, the kind who looks like he carries cupboards on his back for fun.
Not as tall as Mark, but wide enough to block the door, with light black skin, dark hair close to his head, and a broad smile.
I smell the faint scent emanating from him — bear. Definitely bear.
My chances of escape are looking worse and worse...
"Heard you got yourself a new girl," says the big man, with a smirk.
Mark growls, clearly annoyed.
"Apparently, Ethan big mouth has let the cat out of the bag." He is about to close the door when the bear enters.
This is my chance.
I jump to the floor and run with all my strength, my paws barely touching the floor.
My heart is beating wildly, the pressure growing with every second.
Everything around me seems to come into focus, as if time has slowed down, and I mentally calculate the distance I still need to cover, the time I have left.
The gap is closing quickly, but I'm almost there!
Just a few more milliseconds... and...
"Here she is!" says the bear, with that mocking tone, as he grabs me in the air as if I were a football. The movement is sudden, making my throat tighten. "Look, even she can't stand your grumpy face, she already wants to escape."
I'm hanging by my feline armpits, a desire to squirm, show my claws and try to scratch him taking over me, but my instinct for self-preservation makes me freeze. Honestly, who's to say he won't throw me like a ball too?
He chuckles softly, but Mark's growl tells me he doesn't find it funny at all.
"Don't touch her," he orders, his voice low and threatening.
The big guy lets out a dramatic sigh. Either he's crazy, or he's close enough to the Beast not to be scared shitless.
"Relax, I won't hurt her." He stretches his arms towards Mark, as if I were an offering. "But seriously, a cat? I thought you were more of a dog person, being kind of... lupine."
I feel the bear's hands loosen around me. But before I can even struggle to escape, Mark pulls me out of his grasp, holding me against his chest with possessive strength.
I stand there, feeling the warmth of his body, trapped in his arms.
"I had no choice, but..." Mark murmurs. "Now she's mine, and I take care of what's mine."
Now I'm his?
Those words hit me like a punch in the stomach. I can barely breathe, and panic takes hold of me. Nausea rises quickly, a huge wave rising from my stomach, and I try to hold it back.
I try.
I try.
I try...
But I swear, to make matters worse, I still feel some hairs stuck in my throat, as if my body had decided to betray me in every way possible.
Oh, by the stars, I'm going to...
Then I vomit.
On his shirt.
And, of course, on one of his arms too, because the universe apparently seems to hate me.
The bear starts laughing and Mark growls at him, the sound shaking my body from the tip of my tail to my snout, my hair standing on end.
My mind spins between horror and despair.
I lift my head and blink at him, trying to offer the most innocent look my feline face can produce, trying to survive.
He stares at me with his jaw clenched, his brow furrowed more intensely, his gaze deadly.
If I had any doubts before, now it's certain: he's going to kill me.