Echoes of Fire (The Mercury Pack #4)(41)

Looking rather put out, she let out a chuff-slash-hiss—it sounded like she was trying to hiss and cough up a hair ball at the same time. There was no real aggression there, though.

“Come on out here so I can get a better look at you,” he coaxed sweetly, again keeping his voice gentle. He knew she wouldn’t understand him, but he was quite sure that Madisyn would communicate what he wanted to the cat.

Looking adorably cranky, the feline padded out of the crevice. All fur, muscle, and grace, she blinked up at him. Her generous coat made her look much bigger than she actually was. In fact, the overabundance of fur often made their animal counterparts look stocky. But pallas shifters were slightly taller, and their coats were a little shorter, so they looked more in proportion.

“Morning,” he said softly, making no move to touch her. He remembered Madisyn’s advice on how to deal with her cat: Don’t try to pet her straight off the bat. Let her come to you. Don’t throw your dominance around, because it won’t work. And for God’s sake, don’t be all “Here kitty, kitty” unless you want your nose bitten off. With that advice in mind, he waited patiently for the cat to make the next move.

Finally, she regally padded closer to him, halting between his legs. Moving slowly, he reached down and stroked her fur. It was thick and lusciously soft. Whispering compliments, he kept on petting her until she relaxed against his leg, purring. Deep inside Bracken, his wolf lay down and rested his chin on his forelegs, content to have some time with the cat even though he wasn’t able to touch her just yet.

Bracken’s empty stomach rumbled, and the cat straightened with a blink. “I need food and coffee. You coming?”

She sprang at him so incredibly fast that he didn’t get the chance to shield his face. Luckily, he hadn’t needed to. She landed on his shoulder and then twisted to face the same direction he was facing. Perched there like a bird of prey, she loosely curled her bushy tail around his neck.

Bracken carefully stood. “Oh, I see. I need to carry this dainty princess around, do I?”

She mustn’t have liked his jocular tone much because it earned him a low growl, and she lightly dug her claws into his shoulder.

Chuckling to himself, he headed into the kitchen. To his surprise, she jumped onto the top of the fridge and settled there like it was a favorite spot. He blinked. “All right.” Under her watchful eye, he drank coffee and ate a bagel. No amount of coaxing made her join him at the table—she apparently really liked being up high.

Done with his breakfast, he put the dishware in the sink. “Are you ever going to come down?”

With what could only be described as a “Lord give me strength” look, similar to the one his grandmother used to flash him, she pushed to her feet. Damn, he loved this cat. She leaped onto the dining chair, as graceful as any gymnast. Bones cracked and snapped as she shifted, and soon Madisyn sat in her place—naked and smiling.

“I am totally gone for your cat,” he admitted.

Madisyn chuckled. “She kind of likes you too.”

“Just kind of?”

“For my cat, that’s undying devotion.” Madisyn had been sincerely surprised by how fast the feline accepted his touch. She hadn’t even tried chasing him away from her private space. The cat barked at freaking ants if they got near her precious rockery.

He crossed to her just as she stood and did a long catlike stretch. “You snuck out of bed,” he playfully accused.

“There was no sneaking. You just didn’t wake up.”

“Hmm.” Snaking his arms around her, he pulled her flush against him, stroking all that petal-soft skin. “You’re not at the shelter today?”

“I don’t do Fridays, Saturdays, or Sundays, since I work at the club on weekends.”

“Speaking of weekends . . . Did Shaya invite you to the barbecue we’re having on Sunday?” He almost smiled at the way her nose wrinkled. He knew, of course, that his Alpha had invited her, just as he knew from Shaya that Madisyn had replied with a noncommittal sound. His mate wasn’t dumb. She knew they were throwing it for her. And he sensed that while part of her was grateful they were so welcoming, another part of her felt pressured by it. He hadn’t yet managed to coax her to his lodge for that same reason. She worried his pack would read too much into it and believe she was ready to move there.

“Can’t go,” she said. “Gonna be busy working on my domino tower.”

His mouth twitched. “Domino tower. Right. Well, you got three days to build your imaginary tower. I’m sure that’s enough.”

“I also have a pasta sculpture to build.”

His smile widened. “No one will start hinting at a mating ceremony, I promise. It’s not some sort of setup. They’re not all planning to pounce on you with questions, bully you to accept my claim, or work on making you move there using reverse psychology.”

Her brow creased. “Isn’t that where you make your therapist break down and sob awhile?”

He tilted his head. “You had a therapist?”

“Dawn has one come to the shelter every Thursday. She sent me to see him when I wouldn’t stop setting fires.”

“And you made him cry?”

“Not on purpose.” It wasn’t her fault that it creeped him out when she sang “There Was an Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly.” Over and over. In a dreary voice. Cackling whenever she said the word “die.”