°• Her Cat Boy•*

Chapter 6

Third-Person POV

Zeon lay still, his breathing slow and even, feigning sleep. But reality was far from it. Even if he wanted to tune out the world around him, he couldn't. His senses wouldn't allow it. He was a cat-like being, after all—his hearing razor-sharp, his nose attuned to every scent, his eyes able to catch even the slightest flicker of movement in the dim room.

And right now, all of those heightened senses were betraying him.

Hartley.

Her scent was thick in the air, intoxicating, laced with something primal that sent a hot wave through his veins. Even in sleep, she moaned softly, her body reacting to whatever sinful dream she was having. It made his muscles coil with tension. He clenched his jaw, trying to suppress the raw instinct clawing at his control.

His heat. It was close. Too close.

Zeon exhaled sharply, trying to shake off the heat prickling under his skin. He hadn't brought any supplements to suppress it. The last thing he needed was to lose control here, not when Hartley was— No. He had to fight it.

His parents would never accept a human mate. His bloodline had to remain pure. He had to remember that.

This was temporary. A place to stay. Nothing more.

Pushing down the urge curling in his stomach, Zeon forced himself up, stretching lazily. Sunlight peeked through the curtains, spilling across the floor in golden streaks. He walked toward the window, drawing the curtains open completely. The warmth of the sun washed over his skin, soothing his nerves. It was a small relief but not enough.

How was he going to handle this when his supposed mate was right in front of him, unknowingly tempting him? His heat would only grow stronger, and when it reached its peak...

Would he even be able to resist?

A voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Slept well?"

Zeon tensed slightly, his ears twitching. He hadn't noticed Hartley coming out of the bathroom.

He turned, forcing an indifferent expression. "Yeah, but I think I'll be sleeping in the next room from now on."

She raised a brow at him but nodded. "Yeah, I agree with you. Well, the room is all yours."

Zeon hummed in response, but his mind was elsewhere. His control was slipping faster than he liked, and he needed to figure out how to deal with it— fast.

Hartley left to make breakfast, leaving Zeon alone once more. But even after she was gone, her scent lingered, tormenting him.

~

The air between them was heavy, thick with unspoken thoughts as they sat at the dining table.

The clinking of forks against plates was the only sound between them, an awkward silence stretching like a taut rope.

Hartley finally broke it. "You still haven't told me your age."

Zeon glanced up, as if only now remembering she was there. "I'm 19."

She nodded slowly, studying him. "What's wrong? Why are you so quiet?"

"I'm just not in the mood to talk," he muttered, poking at his food.

Before Hartley could question him further, the sharp ring of her phone echoed through the room.

She excused herself from the table and went to take the call, her expression shifting the moment she saw the name on the screen.