The Kitty Cat's Mates (ManxMen)

15 (Part Two) | The Night of Ascension

"Here come the bad wolves," Constantine whispered, amused as he stared at the broad assemblage of werewolves that continuously poured in from the front hall. It was literally dogs crashing in on a cats party. Way for them to make a killer entrance.

People began murmuring, whispering indescribable grumblings to their associates, cautious and rather mockery slabbed on their faces.

"The Lykaios pack was getting too popular. Plus, well. . . they're werewolves. So I truly thought the headlines about them coming here was all spouted bull crap. Ooh, guess I got scored," Stan exclaimed.

He placed the tip of the glass on his lower lip, eyes wide as he examined them. Before he could take a sip of whatever mix of substance he was downing, he blinked and leaned over to King again. "Plus, I heard one of the brothers got too many scandals flying all around him," he whispered in King's ear.

King raised a brow. "Which one?"

Stan stroked his chin, swirling the wineglass in his right hand. "I think it was the middle one... Zain?" he claimed, not too sure about his answer.

"You mean Kain?"

Stan's eyes lit up. "Oh, Kain! Right!"

"Kain, huh..." King trailed off, watching Zachary and Yusef, who easily flashed more than anyone else in the group. His eyes also landed on the other ebony-black haired man beside them, who looked relatively close to the other two alphas. King, without one doubt, instantly knew it was Kain — ladykiller and whatever stupid bullshit he was called. Hugh walked up and greeted them.

"Scandals like what?" King continued.

"Scandals where two adults play gunshots together, bang bang. You get the gist." Stan shrugged.

King gave him the eyes. "Grea— Yeah. Thanks for that fill," he snorted.

"You're welcome." Stan laughed. "So if there's anyone in that pack that you are probably given a chance to avoid too, you should probably choose him." Stan placed his hand over King's shoulder and pointed at the alpha's direction with the other, who was unconscious that two male werecats were critically judging him. "That guy, my dude, is a notorious panty ripper and an infamous face basher. If you wanna keep that blessedly handsome face of yours, keep away from him." Stan pursed his lips, patting the latter's face and nodding suggestively.

King frowned at him. He remained silent.

"What are they thinking, inviting werewolves in this gathering?" one of the older female guests in front of them murmured to the man beside her.

"With everything modernizing and changing, I'm not that surprised. And coming from Tierra Madre," the man snorted, "They're just full of surprise."

King and Stan turned to watch their backs, ears straining when they heard him talk about their pride.

"Even trying to make that crossbred human stand as their King. They're really going too low. Have they no shame?" he chuckled as if the thought brought justice to his level of amusement.

A nerve intruded on King's face, but he remained silent, keeping his hands to where it naturally belongs. Though, he would really love to plant his fist on someone else's face.

"If they weren't one of the leading prides out here, I'd be ashamed even to be a guest on this party-"

"Hey, If you got any complaints, you could mail it directly to our King," Stan barked.

The people around bore their attention at them, including the two, whose eyes nearly bulged out of their head, especially when they caught a glance of King, who was forcing an indifferent look as he stared back at them.

"It's free from cost, and we'd be happy to listen to your petty blabbing,"

"L-let's go." The lady pursed her lips and grabbed the man's arm.

The latter gritted his jaw, scowling at them with disdain. "Hmph. Demented bastard," he muttered as they escaped begrudgingly through the crowd.

"Pulă. Dispari!"

"Leave them, Stan," Donna uttered. Although she was obviously triggered as well judging by that massive scowl on her face.

"It's hard drilling through thick-headed hypocrites," Pandora cut in, looking indifferent as ever.

"They should keep their shitty complaints in their guts," Stan puffed out.

While he was blabbing complaints himself, King's eyes went wide-shot. His eyes landed on Captain Sniffer, who was moving towards their direction. He had werewolf comrades trailing beside him, and they didn't seem to notice him.

King swiftly leaned over to Pandora and whispered something in her ear. Pandora rotated her head, finding the group who was closing toward them, and the two stared at each other, looking like they were communicating with their own-made eye language.

King cleared his throat and patted Stan's shoulder. "Heyyy," he exclaimed rather nervously. "Um, w-we'll have to look out for Bryce first, and see what that guy is up to. We'll be back."

"No worries." Stan patted his back.

"We'll be here." Donna smiled at them.

Before they moved through their path, King couldn't help himself but look back, and he found the werewolves gawking like eagles in the ocean both on his left and right. He unconsciously ducked his head.

"King, we should—" Pandora bumped into someone, spilling mint-blue cocktail over her white dress.

The woman she bumped into gasped. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry! I didn't see you!"

Pandora calmly dragged her eyes on the liquid spill in her clothes. "It's not a problem," she said, staring back at the glasses-lady who was tightly clasping her hands against each other. She looked back at King. "Just a second, I'm going to the bathroom."

The woman's eyes widened. "Wait, let me come with you! I'll help you." she offered.

Pandora slightly shook her head in response. "You don't have to. It's really alright. It's just juice."

"No, I insist! It's my fault I ruined your outfit."

Pandora slightly frowned. She always found it troublesome having others deal with something she could have already easily done by herself, especially with just wiping her own clothes. It's more efficient that way, less talk, more action, equals faster production. But she felt troubled to reject the lady who seems like she'll be taking this mistake down to her grave, so she nodded her head back as a response.

Pandora placed a hand on King's shoulder and muttered, "Keep your eyes up."

King snorted. Of course, he will. He didn't need to be told. And what could possibly happen while she was in the bathroom?

A cold sweat formed on his forehead.

"I apologize for my companion."

King blinked, and he dragged his head to look at his right. He stared at the lady who was wearing a thigh-high fitted nude dress and was standing a couple of meters across from him. She was petite, and her voice from earlier was soft.

The dame scooted closer to King, tucking a strand of her pale blonde hair behind her ear as she flashed an angelic smile at him.

King felt his face grow warm. Yet he felt somewhat betrayed by the scent she gave off. He swallowed a knot building in on his throat, trying his best to smile back at the attractive werewolf in front of him.