Nathan Storm’s POV

Shell, Montana

Monday, September 10th, 2007

I woke up in the morning, sore, hurting, and needing to piss like a racehorse on a flat rock. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ ꜰindNʘvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

I tried to sit up, but the pain was too much. “Isra?”

The middle-aged Vietnamese werecat opened the door a few seconds later. “Good, you’re up.”

“I can’t SIT up, and I need to use the bathroom.”

With her help, I managed to get my feet on the floor. She was stronger than she looked, which came in handy as my naked body leaned on her on the way to the bathroom. After washing my hands, she gave me a cup with my pills to swallow down. When I was done, she didn’t let me get back in bed. “You need to shift, Nathan. Georgina’s orders. Even days a wolf, odd days a human.”

That reminded me of something. “I got shot as a werewolf, but woke as a man.”

“Georgina gave you a shot to force the shift. You’re easier to work on in this form, and every shift helps you heal a little more.”

Yeah, but it also moves things around and stretches them out. It wasn’t uncommon for sutures to pop or wounds to reopen. This was going to hurt like a bitch. “Now?” She nodded. I eased myself to my hands and knees with her help, then shifted on the carpeting.

The pain was intense, leaving me panting on the floor for a few minutes. Isra checked my stitches while I breathed through the pain until it abated. “Looking better already,” she told me. “Come on. Breakfast is in the kitchen.”

I struggled to four legs and followed her out the door. She had a folded blanket under the table for me, and I laid down again until food was ready. Scrambled eggs, steak pieces, and hash browns filled a bowl she set down for me. I ate greedily, my tail wagging to show my appreciation.

Communication was decidedly one-way that day, since she could talk to me but I could only use my tail and face to answer. “I know you want to know more about what’s going on out there,” she said as she waved a piece of sausage in the air with her fork. “There’s not much to say. Stanley’s interactions with the Council are done, but he thinks they may have surveillance on him. They are going to lay low for a while, while you are going to stay out of sight until they forget about you.”

I growled at that; I didn’t want them to forget me. I wanted them to curse my name after I exacted my revenge.

Isra didn’t like that a bit. “Don’t you growl at ME, young man. People like me are risking our lives to save your stubborn ass. The least you can do is to behave and show some damn appreciation.”

She was right. I whined and exposed my neck to her.

“That’s better. My ranch is not a vacation resort. I work hard to keep it up. You better heal up so you can help out around here. I’ve got a list about three pages long of chores for you.” My eyes blinked a few times. “Single-spaced.” I let out a groan. “It’s been too long since there was a man around here. If anyone sees you, you’re a ranch hand I hired.”

I could live with that. “So, let’s go over the rules. Rule Number One? My house, my rules. I don’t care how dominant you think your wolf is. This is CAT territory. I’M in charge.”

I snorted in amusement. Isra weighed maybe a hundred pounds, less than half my size. I could crush her like a bug.

She didn’t appreciate the disrespect I showed. She stood up, pulling her dress off before shifting. The middle-aged woman became a three-foot-tall, four-foot-long Clouded Leopard in a second.

Isra was the first Werecat I’d seen in person. She was the most beautiful predator I’d seen in person, both sleek and deadly. Her tan and grey body had spots on her head and a bushy tail. The larger tan patches on her body were outlined with black, making them appear like rain clouds. I could imagine her disappearing into the dappled sun and leaf litter of the forest floor.

Isra opened her mouth, exposing five-inch-long upper canines. She extended a fur-covered front paw in my direction, showing me razor-sharp four-inch claws. I backed up a bit in fear.

Isra shook her head before shifting back. She pulled on her clothes as she continued her lecture. “You understand what I told you?” I nodded my head. “Rule Number Two. You talk to NO ONE outside this house. Ever. I don’t care if it’s phone, email, shouting across a fence, or sending smoke signals. Any communications with the outside world go through me.”

I nodded.

“Rule Number Three. You don’t leave the property without me. Stay out of sight as much as possible. I’ve lived here a long time without attracting the attention of the Council. If wolves scent a cat and dog living together, it WILL attract attention. Neither of us will survive if Enforcers or Pack Warriors show up.”

I growled at the thought of Enforcers. I wanted to find the Council Enforcer who killed my family and rip him into little pieces. I dreamed of having Alpha Todd’s neck in my teeth in revenge for what he did to my Carol. I wanted to taste his warm blood as his heart pumped its last.

Isra shot me a disapproving glance. “And that brings up Rule Number Four. You give up on any thoughts of revenge.”

That was too much. I growled and forced myself to my feet, nearly hitting my head on the underside of the table. Displaying quickness and strength I didn’t expect, Isra had my face flat on the floor with her hand on the back of my neck. I struggled, so she let her hand shift until I could feel those claws starting to pierce my skin. Further struggles would get me hurt, so I stilled myself.

“As far as the Packs know, you’re dead. That’s great for you, as long as they never see or scent you again. If you run off seeking revenge? You may or may not get it. You certainly will die trying. But what happens after that?”

Shit.

“The first question will be why Stanley and his family told the Werewolf Council that you were dead and cremated that night. The second will be to ask where they hid a wolf who was shot twice and near death. They know you didn’t stay on his land, because they've sent wolves sniffing around the borders. What happens then, Nathan?” She let go of my neck, and I rolled onto my side. I whined. “Your life is no longer your own. Werebears and Werecats put their lives on the line to save you, and we won’t let you throw our lives away as well. We OWN your ass now. Get that through your thick head, or I’ll kill you myself.”

I nodded my head. “Rest and eat. There’s a doggie door in the kitchen if you need to go outside to do your business. And don’t start peeing on the fenceposts! I’ve already marked the boundary fences.”

She scratched behind my good ear. “Get some sleep. I’ve got chores to do.”

I fell asleep shortly after she headed outside to care for her animals.

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