Chapter 176: Caine: Where’s the Cat?

CAINE

Grace seems calmer, but she’s still a little too fidgety and pale for my liking.

I sigh. I had been planning on moving us out tonight, at least a little farther so we could get off the road. Now, I’m wondering if we should stay here overnight and leave in the morning.

We should leave soon, Fenris says. Before one of those human cops shows up.

I leave her in the bedroom to relax, feeling the weight of her silence like an uncomfortable boulder pushing down a part of my soul.

What the hell kind of trauma does she carry to trigger such a terrible response? She wasn’t even this afraid after I took over her pack, or when I’d come to her in the forest—though, thinking back on the memory only serves to make my heart twist into an awkward, guilt-ridden pretzel.

I was so angry at the idea of a human mate—irritated by the idea of another mate at all—and took it out on her, furious she dared to be so alluring with her blueberry muffin scent and pretty green eyes.

I’m not exactly known for my gentle touch, but I’m learning. At the very least, I’d never tie her up in a forest again. Or yank at her hair. Or choke her...

Damn it. Fenris is right. Considering our history, it’s a miracle she doesn’t run screaming every time she sees my face.

I told you.

Hindsight is a terrible thing.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, annoyed by the headache I’ve been fighting since earlier this morning.

It’s the cat. It has to be the cat making her feel so strange. Let’s get rid of it.

"I can’t do that."

Why not?

Because if I get rid of the cat now, she’ll think I lied about not being angry. She’ll think I’m punishing her.

both hands over my face, roughly scrubbing away the faint exhaustion after a long day with

angry, Fenris points out, and I hate how he knows me

cat. I’m

hadn’t been just some random cat? What if it had been

a bunch of bullshit about how I’m not mad and I’m

stand by

you can take this time to reprogram your

"Fuck off, Fenris."

a

with the damn dog, who seems

the pack, but it still sounds off-putting to hear a toddler repeat words she shouldn’t even

front of Bun," I

and all three of

speak up. "You’re

"We’re good kids. We don’t swear." But then she looks at my face, blanches, and turns away

not sure what to do about the girl. She gets closer, but

to swear," Ron explains from his position on the floor beside Bun as she

one thing

I look them

and Sara exchange glances, and it isn’t subtle

two really think they can pretend a cat

though both Sara and Jer look away, unable

the cat,

me, forgetting about the dog as she holds both hands up in a silent

she the cat you’re talking about?" Jer ask, with an exaggerated face of surprise. "It’s just our sweet Bun. She loves to

"Meow!"

a cat. She was a cat the entire time you were gone.

kid pushes himself off the floor and takes his favored seat on the couch

kitchen counter, watching in amusement as these children scramble to sell their story. They’re terrible liars. They’ll

hisses, "Help us out

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