by Marilynn Fae
Shadow's very good at taking care of things, she learns very quickly. Her new Master seems to enjoy solving problems and getting things to work the way he wants them to. Exactly the way he wants them to.
Sometimes, she worries he only keeps her because she's another puzzle for him, something else he could fix, but as time passes by and he doesn't seem to mind anything she does and just lets her continue scratching little holes into the sides of his couch, she begins to relax. He doesn't seem that keen on changing anything about her. She's not something else he intends to fix.
She wakes a few weeks after moving into her new place and luxuriates in her human form. It's nice to be able to stretch out her fingers and toes even though she has a wear a silly nightgown. Her tail unfurls from her body and she climbs out of the bed to get a comb so she can work on fluffing up her fur. Her new Master insists that she wear clothes even though there's nobody else in the apartment aside from them.
She thinks it has something to do with the way he smells like desire when he sees her, but that could just be wistful thinking. She doesn't mind if he wants her, though. Old Master wanted her for companionship and New Master wants her as something else. She thinks she'll be happy to be his mate if that's what he wants.
He's a good provider. She washes her face, brushes her teeth, and then tiptoes into the kitchen. He's already eating his breakfast. It looks healthy and gross.
"Good morning, love," he says, looking up at her and flashing her a bright grin that sends pleasant tingles all the way to the tips of her toes.
She blushes, unused to his easy smiles. "Morning, Master," she whispers and steps towards him shyly.
"Where do you want breakfast today?" he asks.
He always asks. It's nice. "Can I sit by your feet?" she asks in return.
"If that's what you want," he smiles, indulgent and kind.
She curls up at the base of his chair, purring happily as she rubs her cheek to his pants. It's probably really expensive. His clothes are always so soft.
"Here," he says and waits for her to tilt her head up before capturing her chin between his forefinger and thumb. "Open," he says and waits for her to part her lips before pressing in a serving if caviar on top of a lightly salted caviar.
She purrs happily as she chew and smiles at him.
"Good girl," he says, leaning down to lick up her lips.
She startles a little. She's still not used to how tactile her new Master is and how easily he grooms her. She wants to groom him back too, leaning up to lick his lips back, but he pulls away too quickly.
"Another?" he offers instead.
She pouts and nods, opening her mouth and letting him slide another piece in. She licks his fingers clean, tasting the slightly salty crumbs clinging to his fingertips, and then, she leans back to enjoy the second bite of the caviar. She can taste it better now that her taste buds are no longer tainted by toothpaste. The texture and taste explodes in her mouth and she curls up at his feet, tail wrapped around his ankles as she leans her cheek against his legs. She chews slowly and considers another nap. It's tasty, but not tasty enough to keep her awake.
"Open, darling," he says, curling a warm hand on the back of her neck and pulling her head back when she takes too long to respond. "Open," he repeats in a lower growl, one that makes her bones tremble. She flutters her lids when she glances up at him and opens her mouth dutifully. "Good girl," he says, swiping his thumb over her bottom lip deliberately as he places another bite on her tongue.
He manages to coax her into eating a few more mouthfuls as she sulks at his feet. "I have to go to work now, pet," he says and she sulks even more.
She knows she's utterly spoiled, but she hates it when he's not paying attention to her and when he leaves to do other things. He always comes back smelling like strange things and outside.
She unfurls from around his feet and glares pointedly away from him. "Come here, darling," he chuckles, hoisting her up with his hands underneath her armpit and depositing her neatly into his lap. He rubs his cheek against hers, and then does it to her other cheek, rumbling as he does so. "You be good, okay?" he says, eyeing the mostly ruined couch cushions that she had been scratching up over the past several weeks.
"I'm always good," she says and he leans forward so that their foreheads are touching. His eyes are very pretty. "I'll be good," she tells him softly and blushes when the corners of his lips tilt upwards to form a small smile.
"Good girl," he praises and she preens again, only to continue pouting a second later when he lifts her up completely and deposits her onto the couch.
The house is always so quiet after Master leaves her alone.
She fusses with the pillows and then brings one down with her to the nearest patch of light and dozes.
Chapter Six: Strangers
Her new Master's apartment is nice, but not very well protected.
She's basking in a patch of sun from the window in the bedroom when she finds this out. She has the curtains pulled all the way opened and is so busy listening to the birds chirping happily on the other side of the glass window that she almost doesn't notice it at first - a little buzzing noise from the door. She lifts her head up and frowns at it for a few seconds. the buzzing stops.
That's odd. Then again, Master is peculiar in that he doesn't mind sharing the space with neighbors. Her old Master would never have allowed anyone so close. There are people living downstairs and upstairs of the apartment too. She lays back down, fully intent on going back to sleep because it's nice in the apartment today. Well. It's nice everyday, but today's particularly nice cause Master kissed her cheek before leaving for work. If she focuses, she thinks she can still feel his lips on her cheek, a phantom sensation of his lips pressing against her skin. She smiles a little thinking about it.
She should've been paying more attention to the door because it happens so abruptly that she doesn't react in time. The door gets blasted open and then several things happens at once. A small ball rolls into the room and she tries to leap at it and bat it out, but it bursts open first, hissing as it releases a white smoke in the air. The sweet scent fills her nose and goes straight into her lungs, infiltrating all her nervous systems and taking control before she can stop breathing. She reels back, stumbling away until she's as far away from the source as she can get, but she's limited by the space in the apartment and the fact that her body is no longer doing what she wants to.
Instantly, she knows they're here for her because she's smelled this exact combination before. It she knows is meant specifically for her because she's smelled it before. It triggers a memory of her in the first home, the one where she's confused all the time and has no idea what's happening to her, why she's no longer with her family and why there are unfamiliar faces everywhere. She didn't know what she was feeling was wrong until Master brought her home.
Her heart doesn't even get the chance to speed up before she inhales and is breathing in the air that makes her relaxed and tired, too lethargic to move even though she knows she should be panicking and running the opposite way.
The men that walks into the apartment makes her grimace and flinch though. She remembers that man. He's older now and even though she knows logically that she's older too, she feels even smaller. Even through the cloyingly sweet scent from the bottle, she can smell that the men coming in are entering with ill-intent. They smell like medicine and danger, like something unpleasant and a little bit violent. One of the men is wearing a mask and it doesn't take her long to recognize him as the same man her Master had tried to save her from.
She looks up and finds herself staring directly into his eyes, pupils dilated and upper lip pulled back under the mask like he's trying to inhale the scent, but the mask is in the way. He's wearing a wolf hide like a cap over his tailored black suit, a deliberate challenge against her Master. But he doesn't even have to decency to challenge her Master properly and fight for her.
He's doing this when her Master is gone.
&n
bsp; "Hello there, kitten," he says in a tone he probably reserves for people he think is beneath him. She's heard that tone before in her first home. People talk to her like that all the time.
"You're not supposed to be here," she says, or at least, she tries to say. What comes out of her mouth is instead a keening meowing sound that escapes entirely unbidden.
"Look how you've grown," he drawls. He eyes her up and down.
She's glad Master made her put on proper clothes in the morning. She has on a baby blue dress with thin straps that had fallen over her arm, exposing her shoulder blade down her chest. She pulls the strap of her dress up and wills her tears away. "Mrawl," she voices, aware of how pathetic she sounds the moment the keening whine leaves her lips. He is bigger now, no less intimidating not just because of the wolf pelt he's wearing, but because her Master isn't here with her and there's no one to save her.
"You're a lovely little thing, aren't you?" he says, squatting down in front of her, a clawed hand closing around her neck, pinning her down onto the grown firmly. She doesn't even have the power in herself to fight back. It's like all the muscles in her body has turned to mush. "What did they day your name was again? Anna?" he growls. His voice is too deep, too growly, like he's trying to talk through a mouthful of fangs.
She clenches her eyes shut, too afraid to peek through them and see if he's shifted. She's never been very good at fighting but she thinks she owes it to her Master to fight back, if only a little. Master wants her as his mate. She grasps at the hand pinning her head to the floor with clawed fingers and tries to pry it away. His fingers tighten, closing the airflow to her lungs and she chokes, making soft whining noises.
"Pretty little thing," he says, wiping his palm across her cheek. "I'm going to have a lot of fun breaking you in," he growls in her ear, sounding breathless and smelling so thickly of arousal that she thinks she could choke from it. His voice is distorted by the mask, making him sound even less human. The look of fear on her face seems to turn in on because his grip on her tightens and he shifts on top of her, pinning her onto the ground with the full weight of his body, straddling her easily.
Her eyes widen in fear, her lungs feeling crushed. She's not sure if he knows he's so much heavier and stronger than her. He shouldn't sit on her like this. She struggles again, kicking and clawing at him as much as she can.
She doesn't know when she's started to cry. She's aware that there are people around them, looking and doing something to the apartment. Setting up traps, she thinks with a panicked sort of detachment. They're setting up traps for her Master, for when he comes back later. She mewls at the man and scratches at his wrists with her claws, trying to get herself free. He pulls his lips back again, scenting the air but unable to because of the mask he's wearing over his mouth.
"Get the window open," he orders and someone hurries over to the do just that, side-stepping her in order to get push the window open. Cold air gushes in, clearing the air and taking with it with smoke that had rendered her unable to fight back earlier.
It is not as though she can fight back now with the man pressing down on her so heavily. She considers shifting back, but then she would be in danger of being crushed under the bulk of his weight and the possibility of her as a cat being crushed is even higher.
A chill runs down her bones when she can finally get control of her muscles again, awareness seeping into her bones. He yanks the mask off the moment the air clears and then he's pinning her down and pressing his mouth to her neck, breathing in her scent.
She doesn't have the time to shake him off before he's suddenly sinking his teeth into her neck with an animalistic growl.
Pain jolts through her body at the sensation of sharp teeth breaking through the skin of her neck, cold and hot all at once. Blood spills from her wound, wet and sticky, and her struggles to free herself start anew, fueled by a sense impending doom. He bites deep and snarls with his teeth still sinking into her skin. "Stop struggling," he commands, his grip on her shoulder and waist pressing down even harder. He doesn't bother keeping his weight off her body, making it difficult for her to draw breath.
"Stop," she whines. "Get off." She feels his impossibly hot exhales, like fire breathing down onto her skin. His hands pin her down on the ground and she whimpers, baring her neck when he curls his fingers into her hair and yanks her head to the side violently.
He starts sucking at the tender flesh there and she whimpers. He's giving her the meanest, messiest hickey and all she can do is scrabble at his shoulders, clawing the material there until it's in shambles and she's scratching up his skin weakly. It hurts, but it also feels right. This is how her mate is supposed to hold her down when he mates with her, but this man biting her isn't her mate. He smells like cat, like her, but he also smells wrong.
She already has a mate. Master's going to be her mate and he'll take care of her. She had taken a long time teaching him how to pet her just the right way and he's fine with how she scratches up his expensive furniture and chews on his fingers when he's watching tv. His teeth sinks deeper and the pain that jolts through her. The shortage of air from how hard he's pressing onto her prone form is starting to make her light-headed.
She thinks she hears something from the door, a loud, terrifying roar. It sounds like her Master. She wants to get up and warn him that there are traps in here, that there are a lot of people in here and maybe he should bring his pack.
Her assaulter forgets that she's underneath him. Or he forgets how small and fragile she is because he lets his weight drop on top of her and his grip fall on her neck and she can't breathe. She can't breathe.
Chapter Seven: Bath
She doesn't stay unconscious for long. She wakes with a shuddering inhale and several other deep breathes, eager to refill the air in her lungs.
"That's it, love." Her Master's voice is soft and soothing. "Deep breaths," he coaxes, one hand curled possessively on the back of her neck, the other on her chest as he cradles her to him.
Master's carrying her in his arms and she is sitting comfortably in his lap. It's nice here. She thinks she could go back to sleep like this.
"No, no, darling," he growls. "You have to stay awake," he cautions.
"Master?" she murmurs, blinking awake unsteadily.
Master looks pained, but he doesn't smell injured. There are lines between his brows, like he's thinking very hard. She reaches out to try and smooth them away.
"What's wrong?" she asks and tries to look around and find out what's upset her Master so much. She grimaces when the movement stretches her neck and then she remembers what's happened. Her scent must have soured with anxiety immediately because he pulls her up closer.
"I'm here now, love. It's alright. No one's going to hurt you." Master rubs soothing circles at her chest, where a bruise is forming already and it hurts a little bit even with his soft touches. He makes soothing, rumbling noises. "I should have had someone guard you," he says. He sounds like he's in pain too.
She squints at him and notices there are specks of blood around his mouth. She leans up, wanting to clean the wound, but he pulls back violently. "Master?" she whimpers, hurt by how much he didn't want her to touch him.
"Don't, love. That's not my blood," he says, wiping the back of his hand across his cheek. "Let's get you in the bath, okay? I had the water running earlier."
He must really hate how she smells right now if he already has water running in the bath. She doesn't really like baths, but he is still a little wolf-like, fangs still long, the hands around her torso more claws than fingers. He's rumbling a little too. "Okay, Master," she says and he offers her a wobbly smile as he stands.
Master's really strong. He carries her to the bathroom and she tries to peer over his shoulder to see what's happened to the others. She can scent the blood around the apartment, but there hasn't been any noise.
"Don't look." Master presses her face closer to his neck, shielding her eyes from view, but not before she had caught a glimpse of b
lood splattered all over the walls of their once pristine apartment. Dried blood is on the floor and drenched over his beautiful upholstery. The door is locked though, and they seem to be the only two people left.
"Oh no," she murmurs and he freezes, waiting for her to continue. "The house is dirty, Master."
He chuckles and nods. "That's fine, love. We're not going to stay here," he says. "I came as soon as the alarm went off," he says, lowering her onto the edge of the tub and peeling off her dress. It is- was a nice dress. It's drenched in blood now, the strap torn and unsalvageable. He tears off the dress to get it off quicker and she makes a wounded noise.
"I like that dress, Master," she whines.
"I'll buy you another," he promises, kissing the top of her head. "Any dress you want, love. But we're throwing this one. It smells like him."
"Oh." She hadn't thought of that. The house must smell pretty horrible to him right now. She perches on the side of the tub and watches as he takes off his clothes too. They're black, so she can't tell if it's dirty, but she can smell blood on them too. "Did you get hurt, Master? "she asks.
He shakes his head. "Of course not, darling. They're only human."
They had traps and there were so many of them, she wants to say, but it kind of hurts her to talk. She looks down on her naked body, seeing bruises blossoming between her breasts and up towards her neck. She thinks it would probably be worse at her neck, what with the man biting her so roughly earlier, and then choking her with his fingers around her throat. She makes a whimpering noise without meaning to and Master's by her side instantly, kneeling in front of him with his hand on her cheek, prompting her to look at him.
