Tiger's Mate

Chapter 42

•Katski•

Voices.

Quiet voices. Getting louder — clearer.

I could feel the cushions beneath me and smell the worn fabric of the old couch I was on. Ethan must have moved me after I fell asleep — and from the scent at my nose, it was him in front of me, sitting against the couch like a guard (or, guard dog) while I was asleep. I didn't move. I didn't open my eyes just yet either. Somehow, I knew, waking up would cause disruption. Something they didn't need, not right now.

"Someone tell me what the fuck is going on, now."

Tense. Tempered. Definitely not kidding around. I knew this scent. And this voice — though, the last time we had met, she had sounded much friendlier.

There was no friendliness in the she-wolf's voice now.

The air was edged with seriousness — a kind normal high school kids shouldn't be able to emanate. And yet they did, these three, werewolves. Though I stayed still and silent, the curiosity bit at me, and despite my current splitting headache, I opened an eye, just a sliver. I was turned on my side, half my face on the pillow with my bad shoulder facing upwards, so I felt the least amount of pain possible, all things considered. I was facing away from the group as they spoke, but I could somewhat sense their individual presences. Ethan was closest. Sage, from the sound of it, was on the immediate angle across to the left — again, sounding scary as SHIT.

It was fuzzy. Ethan. Maia and Sage. A lot of pain. Ethan. Ethan was scared. I had sent it on him, so strongly, along with guilt. But it wasn't his fault. He saved my life, again. I wanted to comfort him. I wanted to turn and press into him...And then the chill returned when I felt the aura beside me turn frigid.

But when Ethan spoke he didn't sound cold, he sounded dangerous. "Kallen attacked us. Mountain's side West. We were outside pack borders."

"Bullshit," Sage answered, though her voice sounded unsure. "Why would he just...There's no reason—"

Oh, there's a hell of a reason why...but unfortunately, that's not something we can dish out—

"Katski's a werecat."

I froze dead. Or...maybe we can?

"Kat..ski? Is that...oh...he's..."

"Yeah," Maia said, diagonal to myself and Ethan. "Though, keep calling him Kat when we're...around home."

Ethan made a low sound. "It doesn't matter anymore." There was the sound of creaking floor wood and the shift of clothing — my guess, Sage and Maia had sat up straighter.

"E..?"

"What?" He asked, a faint laughter to his tone. It was a bad sign. "It doesn't. He knows, has known — who knows for how long," I could hear the stress in his voice, gradually increasing by the second.

"Ethan," Maia said again, trying to calm him down.

Shit.

"He was playing with me! This whole time, that asshole knew and he was just waiting! I thought I had been careful, I thought I had been keeping him safe—"