Grace of a Wolf (by Lenaleia) novel Chapter 174

174 Grace: White Cat (II)

174 Grace: White Cat (II)

Five minutes later, I’m sitting on the couch watching Sara roll around the floor with the mysterious white cat and I’m not only praying it doesn’t have fleas, but also wondering how the hell I’m going to explain to Caine we’ve somehow acquired a new cat when I wasn’t supposed to leave the camper.

This is bad.

An absurd level of panic keeps rising in my chest, even as I try to convince myself it’s

fine.

“We’re keeping it, right?” Jer asks, his arm around Sadie as he watches his sister play

with the cat.

I shift uneasily. “I don’t think the cat wants to stay with us.” Better to blame the strange feline than my fear over Caine’s temper.

Even as the words leave my mouth, the white cat stretches languidly across Sara’s belly, looking for all the world like a giant, furry limp noodle. Its eyes close to contented slits as her small fingers trace patterns through its suspiciously pristine fur.

Shouldn’t a cat out in the wild like this be–I don’t know… dirtier? Especially when it’s

white.

“It looks like it wants to stay with us,” Jer points out, eyebrows raised like I’m the one not seeing reason here.

“Oh, please?” Sara begs, soft and pleading. She cradles the cat against her chest even though it’s longer than her torso, and the cat purrs louder.

I rub at my closed eyes with a groan. Caine’s going to be so mad when he gets back, and he should be back any minute. Not just mad–furious.

I was supposed to be inside with the doors locked, not chasing

terious animals

across open fields. And I’m pretty sure I definitely wasn’t supposed to bring one of those animals back inside.

Especially a cat.

A disgruntled huff comes from under the dinette. Fenris sulks in the shadows. His

174 Grace: White Cat (II)

storm–gray eyes track the cat’s every movement, ears pinned back against his skull. After I told him to leave the cat alone, he retreated to pout like an overgrown puppy.

Meanwhile, Sadie’s practically vibrating beside Jer, her golden body trembling with the effort of restraint. She whines every so often, desperate to get to the cat but not being

allowed to.

I’ve got her leash wrapped around my wrist, just in case. Cats and dogs aren’t supposed to mix. Probably not with wolves, either.

“We can’t keep it,” I say, trying to sound firm even as Sara’s face falls. “It probably belongs to someone, and we’re not exactly in a position to adopt pets right now.”

“It doesn’t have a collar,” Ron points out. Isn’t he supposed to be my most helpful kid? And now he’s working against me, too. “And it came right to you, didn’t it?”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” I counter. “Cats can come to anyone if they’re friendly enough.”

And if this particular cat is the same one I saw before… what are the odds?

I mean, we’re in the same general area, but it shouldn’t be possible…

Bun jerks upright in Ron’s lap out of nowhere, and turns around to blink as she looks around the room. Her eyes are still glazed from sleep, but she pushes his hands away when he tries to pull her against him.

Then she sees the cat and squeals. All semblance of sleepiness fades as she dives off her brother’s lap.

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