The Lion's Cat | Completed

36 ⚡ Werewolves

Chapter 36

Our breaths are slow as we quietly get out of bed. The old bow that has been standing in the corner for years receives some attention from me. The arrows are in their quiver, laying on the ground right next to it. I pick everything and go into the nock position. Xavier, in the meantime, discarded my dad's shirt on the floor. 

The smell of werewolves is strong. Only mutts would smell like forest. Xavier and I exchange an understanding gaze before he quickly opens my bedroom door. In a synchronized motion, Xavier takes a step to the side as I move forward with my bow, ready to shoot. 

The hallway is empty.  

I frown. That's weird. We stay still, and I close my eyes, focusing on the sounds around us; My dad's soft snores, Xavier's breathing, and finally cautious footsteps near the closed door of the hallway.

A nervous knot in the pit of my stomach makes me have a hard time breathing. I don't break position from the bow, feeling my arms already starting to burn. Seven days with no training, and I'm already getting weaker.

Xavier is behind me, ready to lunge at the intruders when I shoot. The doorknob twists open. The door creaks as they open it and the same ball from the Crimson Pack rolls in the hallway.

I quickly take a step back as Xavier closes our door. My arms relax from the bow. I can't believe Dante followed us here. Has he completely lost his mind?

The doorknob of my bedroom twists open, and with sweaty hands, I quickly pull the string of the bow near my nose. Xavier is hiding behind the door. The door squeaks open, and with one last quiet breath, I loose the arrow.

Almond-shaped eyes are wide open as Dante quickly dodges the possible murder weapon. "That was close," he says, his deep voice booming in my room.

I pick up another arrow in a blink of an eye and aim it at the wolf. "How many of you are here?" I say, my jaw clenching in evident anger.

Dante plays with the metal ball from before in-between his hands. "Drop the bow," he orders.

A shivering growl doesn't even give me time to think. Xavier punches the door close, hitting Dante right in the face since I hear a loud thud afterward.

My gaze snaps up to him. His glowing eyes are knitted in a deep scowl. His plump lips are set in a thin line, and without saying anything, he opens the door and lunges for Dante.

My body freezes on the spot, unable to tear my eyes from the fighting scene in front of me. The testosterone levels are high. Xavier's dominating scent of vanilla and Dante's sour scent of woods are mixing together for every punch the men are throwing.

Footsteps coming from the living room snaps me back to reality, and without a second thought, I shift to my feline. I have to stop the werewolves from coming here, or they'll kill Xavier on the spot.

The usual cracking noise makes my feline and I purr. We might be small, but we are still cats.

Foxy growls, demanding I let her handle the situation. With a sigh, I pull back, fulfilling her wishes. She dashes forward, swiftly avoiding the men's painful fight and entering the living room.

Three gigantic men are looking at me in awe. "Oh my, it's so tiny," the white man with blue eyes comments with a cheeky grin plastered on that disheveled face.

Foxy meows, approaching the man's bare legs and rubbing her body against them. The naive boys awe at hearing Foxy's loud purrs. The scruff of our neck gets grabbed, and soon I'm at the white man's eye level. "As much as I want to take you away with me, I'm afraid cats aren't accepted in the pack," he says, pouting. Even though he has a sharp jawline and a five o'clock shadow, his pout makes him look adorable.