Chapter 18
Sandra
It's better this way.
I don't have a home to go back to.
At this point, I no longer have a job...
But I have Lucy. Or I had. My best friend must be worried sick.
If only I could send her a message...
If I had told her the truth all this time...
My only regret now is not trusting my sister, for fear that she would be scared or abandon me if she knew the truth.
Now I've really lost her by not telling her. If Lucy had known, that night when I was cursed, I would have accepted her video call, and she would have known something was wrong. I'm sure she would have come to help me.
But now it's too late.
Other than that, I don't need to worry about anything else.
I'm just a cat. I only need to worry about eating and sleeping...
Maybe Mark will let me go out for a walk around the neighbourhood when he realises I won't try to run away again. He's not all bad. In fact, he's very different from what I imagined and...
Suddenly, an animal appears in my peripheral vision, coming towards me.
My heart leaps in my chest. My stomach sinks in sheer terror.
I was so lost in my depressing thoughts that I didn't see it coming until it was too late.
But now, sharp, gleaming teeth are inches from my face.
I freeze. My lungs lock up. I can only draw air in small gasps.
It's a wolf, but... not completely. There's something different about it.
A hybrid.
A huge wolfdog, with long legs and a majestic bearing. With every movement, his caramel coat ripples in the light, and his golden eyes — intense, cunning — fix on me, analysing every inch of my body.
He lowers his head, coming closer.
I let out a meow, a thin, wavering sound, and crouch down on my paws. My ears flatten against my head.
His muzzle touches my neck, just below my ear. The warm air from his nostrils makes my skin tingle beneath my short coat. He sniffs me.
Oh, stars in the sky.
Has he discovered my identity? Just when I agreed to stay, agreed to be his pet cat?
My breathing becomes erratic when I feel the sharp tip of a fang brush against the back of my neck and the moisture of his saliva.
He could kill me with a single bite...
A low, trembling sound escapes him. A whimper. And then he presses his muzzle closer to me, as if he were... comforting me?
My eyes flicker. The wolfdog pulls away, lowers his head and stares at me, his eyes shining in the natural light streaming through the windows. I shudder when he briefly touches his nose to mine. Then his rough tongue slides down the side of my face.
I freeze.
Did he lick me?
Another growl. And this time, when he steps back to stare at me, there is something almost sad in his eyes. My chest expands in a shaky sigh.
He doesn't want to hurt me.
The wolfdog moves forward a little and pushes his snout against a toy scattered on the floor.
The little stuffed mouse slides closer to me.
My gaze flickers between the toy and the huge animal, and before I can react, he does the same with another toy, his snout pushing a pompom next to the first one.
Does he want to... play with me?
Fear still pulses beneath my skin, but something begins to change. My tail curls around my body as I watch him, still cautious.
He rolls on the floor, tongue out and tail wagging. When he gets back on his feet and sees me frozen in place, he growls. A low sound. But this time, it's not threatening.
He wants me to join in.
I let out a short meow, uncertain. My heart is slowing down. The beats no longer sound like a funeral march.
The wolfdog pushes the toy again, as if to say, "Come play with me."
My body relaxes a few millimetres.
If I could smile, I would.
Because that's absurd.
Mark has turned into a dog, and suddenly it's as if all the seriousness, all the weight of the human world has disappeared. Now he just seems... free. Uninhibited. As if he could be a little silly, a little carefree.
My gaze fixes on the toys. Then, slowly, I lift a paw and pat the stuffed mouse. It slides a few centimetres across the floor.
The animal bares its teeth, and for a second, I freeze again—until I realise it's smiling.
A silent laugh, pure enthusiasm.
His tail wags, and he lowers himself into a playful stance.
A giant wolfdog trying to cheer me up like a playful puppy?
By the stars and Mother Moon! If I thought my life couldn't get any stranger, I was deeply mistaken.
But since I'm already in the rain... I let myself get wet.
I move a hesitant paw and touch the toy between us.
He barks excitedly, jumping back before advancing again, as if to say, "Yes! That's right!"
I feel something inside me warm up, a forgotten emotion taking space between fear and discouragement.
Curiosity.
I let out a meow and my tail moves gently as I push the toy closer to him.
The wolfdog responds by nudging it with his snout and then staring at me, waiting for me to react. So I move the toy again, faster this time.
He responds by spinning around, jumping from side to side like a hyperactive puppy.
If I could, I would be laughing.
That's... surreal.
But it's also fun.
When he lowers his head, his bright eyes fixed on mine, an unexpected impulse takes hold of me.
I would raise my hand if I could, but, being who I am now, I just lift a paw and gently stroke his snout.
My paw pads touch the warm, moist texture of his nose.
Mark closes his eyes for a moment, as if enjoying the touch.
My tail moves slowly behind me, an echo of the excitement that begins to replace the sadness in my chest.
Everything will be alright...
This is my reality now, and it's not bad, just different.
***
We spend a long time playing, running back and forth. He chases me around the house, his huge paws pounding the floor, while I sneak around the corners with feline agility.
In one of these escapes, I pass through the toy tube and hear a thud followed by a frustrated bark. I look back and see him stuck, his front paws and head inside and the rest of his body outside. I let out a sound that is the feline equivalent of laughter.
Taking advantage of my advantage, I turn around and, with a mischievous look, lightly tap his snout with my paws. He lets out another yelp before starting to lick me excitedly.
Eek!
I jump back, shaking my saliva-covered paw as he finally manages to back away and break free before chasing me again. We run, we dodge, we roll. Time dissolves around us, meaningless. Until a sound makes us freeze: knocking on the door.
The wolfdog stops instantly, his ears pricking up, he barks one last time before giving me a look... disappointed?
And then, in the blink of an eye, he is no longer a wolf-dog.
Mark stands before me, now in his human form, dressed impeccably, without a single hair out of place.
I am so fascinated, looking at the serious and imposing man who has appeared before me, that I almost don't smell the bear outside.
When the door opens, Ted enters without hesitation. He is not smiling. Not even in his eyes. Something about him seems different from what I remember from the few times I saw him.
"You didn't answer my calls and you didn't show up at the company.
Ah, he's worried, that's why there's no lightness in his gaze.
Mark runs a hand through his hair and curses softly as he closes the door.
"Some emergency? What did I miss?"
Ted crosses his arms, shaking his head.
"No emergency, but you said you'd be back for rookie training this afternoon and you didn't show up. Jack went in your place, and I came to see if you, I don't know, had fallen out of one of the windows at the screen and died."
Mark lets out a low laugh. Ted blinks, looking genuinely surprised.
"You know that's impossible."
"What's gotten into you, Beast?" Ted's dark brown eyes narrow. "Have you been drinking? Or maybe you really did hit your head?"
Mark snorts.
"I was busy and didn't notice the time. It won't happen again. Besides, I trust my team to handle emergencies if I'm not immediately available."
My heart warms at the realisation: Mark didn't go to work because of me. As if I mattered. As if, for him, time had also simply slipped through his fingers without him noticing.
The bear nods, assessing Mark with a lingering look before scanning the room. His eyes land on me, and a smile forms on his face.
"Hi, little one! Has this Beast been treating you well? You know, if you want to escape this grumpy man and come live with me, I can take care of you..."
Mark lets out a threatening growl and advances on him, pointing a finger with a subtly elongated claw at his face.
"She's mine."
Ted lets out a short laugh and pushes his hand away.
"I never imagined you'd be such a possessive pet parent."
Mark just growls in response.
"Relax, I just came to see why you didn't show up. I'm not criticising you, you deserve some time off. I wanted to know if you were okay, and it looks like everything is great."
Mark makes a low sound in his throat and, impatiently, pushes Ted towards the door.
"I'm working from home today."
Ted raises his hands in surrender before leaving.
***
The first clap of thunder echoes like a roar in the sky and a chill runs down my spine.
I've never been afraid of storms before.
But my mind pulls me back to that night, to the icy touch of the curse running through my body.
Another bolt of lightning tears through the darkness and a tremor shakes me in my bed.
My chest rises and falls in quick, short breaths.
The sound of Mark's breathing changes. His body shifts in bed, the sheets rustling. The silence is filled with the sound of something more primitive—he is sniffing the air. My stomach clenches. Then his wolfish eyes glow in the darkness, golden like embers.
"Kitten, why are you afraid?"
Another bolt of lightning explodes in the sky, and thunder roars almost simultaneously, shaking the house.
Fear tears through me, and a loud meow escapes my throat—a scream, really.
My body acts before my mind can catch up.
In one leap, I'm on his bed, my muscles tense, my breathing uneven.
And then I realise what I've done. I'm face to face with the Beast.
Silence hangs between us. My chest rises and falls rapidly. Mark watches me, his eyes fixed on mine. He can see in the dark, I know that. He sees me clearly.
I hold my breath, waiting for him to push me away, to growl or say I can't be there.
But then his hand moves, large and warm, and slides over my head.
His fingers move down the back of my neck, following my spine, soft, rhythmic.
A pleasant shiver runs through me and, before I know it, I'm purring.
My eyes close against the sensation, and the sound of the storm becomes a distant echo.
"Are you afraid of the storm?" His voice is low, sleepy.
I almost nod, but I hold back. I have to look like just an ordinary cat.
"It's okay," he continues, his fingers still moving through my fur. "When I was little, I was afraid of the full moon, can you believe it?"
My curiosity is piqued. He never talks about himself.
"My foster father said it was the only time werewolves could assume their hybrid form, that they became stronger. I had nightmares..." His voice lowers. "To this day, I don't know if they were just dreams or memories."
He pauses, and I feel his chest rise slowly before he continues:
"I dreamed of a hybrid, a creature with huge claws and eyes as grey as a storm.
She broke into our house, attacked my mother.
.. I watched everything, unable to do anything.
It was as if I were trapped in a cage, but it wasn't a cage.
It was a cradle." He sighs, the pain still present in his words.
"My mother screamed my name, begged the wolf for mercy.
The hybrid laughed, a cruel laugh, before stabbing her in the chest. And outside.
.." His voice breaks, the memory suffocating him.
"The full moon shone through the window, illuminating the scene like a distant lighthouse. "
He falls silent, and the silence between us hangs heavy in the air. My fur stands on end, not because of the approaching storm, but because of the intensity of the pain he shares. He is opening up to me, revealing something he has never let slip before, something heavy, buried deep in his soul.
If I were human now, I might ask if he still has nightmares, if the fear of the night and the moon still haunts him.
But all I can do is purr, a simple response, but one laden with understanding.
I stretch, rubbing my face against his fingers, like a silent plea for him to keep touching me.
He gently slides his hand under my chin, his fingers warm and firm, yet so soft at the same time.
"When I grew up, I realised that I was never afraid of the moon, but of the monsters it brings with it. And when I understood that I was stronger than all of them, the fear simply disappeared.
I purr louder, nestling closer to his hand, seeking comfort in the softness of his touch.
But another thunderclap rumbles. My heart skips a beat. On impulse, I jump on top of him, burying my muzzle in his neck. My muscles are tense, waiting for a growl of disapproval, for a sudden movement that will throw me away. Instead, his hand moves, sliding over my back... and holding me there.
Firm. Protective.
"Sleep on my chest tonight." His voice becomes hoarse, soft, laden with an unbreakable promise. "Just listen to my heart, leave the storm outside. With me, you're safe."
The beating of his heart echoes loud and steady, like a deep, rhythmic melody.
The sound envelops me, lulling me like a lullaby.
Each pulse marks a beat, a hypnotic rhythm that resonates through my body and dissolves any trace of fear.
My own heart, once frantic, yields to the rhythm of his, keeping time.
And so, for the first time since I was cursed, I sleep well.