Chapter 14
Sandra
I hear every word of the conversation between Mark and Ted, unable to help myself. I am a helpless spectator. Secrets I should never have known hit me with a force I cannot process.
Mark and the werewolf leader are brothers.
Mark wouldn't hesitate to kill him, and if he does, I am a witness to the threat that was made.
Panic grows, and all I can think is, "I'm screwed."
I know more than I should, I don't want to hear any more, I don't want to compromise myself further in case he finds out about me...
Their conversation is interrupted when Mark turns towards the door, still holding me in his arms. My feline body tenses at the sudden movement, although I feel relief at the interruption.
The less I know, the better.
In a few seconds, the door opens and Ethan enters, carrying a huge backpack full of toys. He smiles, unaware of the tension in the air, probably because he's just an ordinary human with no keen senses.
"I brought everything I think she'll like," he says as he walks across the room, taking the toys out of the large backpack and scattering them on the carpet near the pet bed. "Some balls with bells, stuffed animals, and a foldable tunnel."
Ethan unfolds the tunnel on the floor, and Mark puts me there, finally letting go of me.
I stand still, looking at the tunnel in front of me. My gaze slowly shifts to the toys scattered around me and then to the men.
They all seem to be staring at me, waiting for a reaction.
Oh, damn...
How would a cat act?
I don't have time to hesitate. I raise my tail and sway it gently, then take a step towards the tunnel. I make a quick movement with my head, trying to look curious. Then I jump into the tunnel with a feline grace, as if I'm enjoying myself.
When I come out the other side, I see that they are still watching me.
I am a cat. I am a cat. I am a cat.
I hope no one notices that I'm holding myself back from collapsing in panic. My heart feels like it's about to jump out of my mouth.
I turn my back on them and stare at the other toys scattered around. I choose the one closest to me, a stuffed mouse, and start tapping it with my paws, as I've seen other kittens do. The toy moves, but I soon push it again, repeating the gesture as if it were a super fun game.
I quickly glance at the men. They are still watching me, but finally seem satisfied.
"It's getting late," says Ethan, the human vet who took care of me, picking up his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder.
The bear, whom I discovered is called Ted, agrees with him.
"I'm leaving too. See you at work tomorrow, boss."
"See you," replies Mark, glancing at me before heading for the door behind his friends.
They're leaving.
Thank the stars and Mother Moon, they're leaving.
I just want this day to end!
Apparently, Mark is going to work at the company tomorrow. I'll try my escape then.
As the tension eases a little with that thought, I feel a twinge in my bladder. I've been holding back the urge to pee, but I can't hold it in any longer.
The downstairs bathroom door is open, and I walk over there. The humiliation burns inside me. I'm not going to use the bloody litter box.
I refuse to accept that my situation has come to this.
I hear Mark's footsteps passing through the living room and then going upstairs; he's far enough away.
What if...
I close my eyes, trying to concentrate, trying to transform myself back, but nothing happens. The block is still there, overwhelming.
Resigned, I assess the toilet.
Lifting the lid is a challenge, but I manage it. Then I balance carefully on the edge, hoping I won't fall in.
How embarrassing, all my elegance and feline grace reduced to this.
When I'm done, I mentally thank the stars that it's a cistern toilet. I climb onto the cistern and use my paw to press the button, activating the flush.
I jump down to the floor, and as I walk out the door, Mark is coming down the stairs behind me.
He bends down as soon as he sees me, picking me up with a care that still surprises me. The nausea I felt before when being carried doesn't appear this time. Maybe I'm getting used to it, since I arrived here, I've spent most of my time in his arms.
"I brought your bed to my room." He climbs the stairs with me nestled in his arms, his voice soft, as if he wants to comfort me. "I also put a little bowl of water there, so you don't have to go downstairs if you need it. You must still be in pain."
Only then do I really let myself feel the throbbing in my back. The pain is bearable, but whenever I move quickly, I feel a twinge, as if the stitches were being pulled.
"I want you to feel at ease, Kitten." He raises his elbow and looks at me. "Here you have the freedom to be and do whatever you want."
I just stare at him, trying not to show that I understand everything he says.
I would laugh nervously if I were in human form.
Freedom?
Do whatever I want?
Darling, what I want is to go back to my house and pretend none of this ever happened!
As soon as we finish climbing the stairs, there is a small corridor with two doors. He enters the one on the left, which is already open.
The room is huge, maybe my entire flat could fit inside.
In the centre is a giant bed, covered with a white sheet and a plaid blanket folded at the foot.
Next to it is an oak bedside table with a lamp.
The large window, with open curtains, overlooks the forest. On the other side of the room, I see the private bathroom; the half-open door allows me to glimpse the interior with white marble details.
Between the window and the bed is the pet bed. That's where he takes me, carefully settling me into it.
He remains crouched for a few long seconds, staring at me with an intensity that makes my heart race. I know I exude fear; I can't help it.
He blinks, frowning, before standing up.
"Sometimes I forget that I'm scary, even when I'm not trying to be," he murmurs.
Mark steps away and stops in front of the bed, shirtless, and only now do I allow myself the luxury of observing his imposing body. The joggers, hanging from his narrow hips, leaves little to the imagination, and I can see a considerable bulge marking his front.
He glances at me fleetingly, absent-mindedly running a hand over his toned abdomen.
The heat he exudes is still fresh in my memory, and I feel my skin burning. I can't believe I was in his arms, nestled against that bare chest...
If I were in human form, I would be blushing embarrassingly.
I hide my face between my paws and close my eyes, pushing away unwanted thoughts.
Do not covet your predator...
I peek out again when I hear the rustle of the sheet and see him lie down on the bed. He turns off the lamp beside him and the room is plunged into darkness, except for the soft light of the moon, which casts delicate shadows on his body, illuminating his silhouette in an almost ethereal way.
He turns on his side, his wolf-like eyes sparkling in the darkness, and I feel their weight on me.
"Good night." His hoarse, low voice makes the hairs on my body stand on end.
For a moment, the urge to meow back arises, as a natural response, but I hold back, resting my head on my paws and trying to maintain my composure.
Although I know sleep will not come anytime soon, I close my eyes, trying to ignore the absurd situation I find myself in.
Patience.
Tomorrow, as soon as he leaves for work, I'll search every corner of this cabin, look for a way out, and escape.