Author: BadKitty717

Tired of Waiting

PART 1

Nate entered the lounge area, and instantly his vision became clouded by a misty, red haze. He blinked for a second, struggling to make his mind understand what he was seeing, but his inner beast recognized the scene instantly. It snarled, a fierce, piercing sound of animal fury and clawed within Nate with a mad desire to be free. Nate was momentarily disoriented by the intensity of his beast’s bloodlust, which hit him with the force of a freight train. He staggered physically and took a deep, ragged breath. The beast was a part of him, but it was Nate, the man, who ruled. With a conscious effort of his indomitable will, he was able to slowly assert control over his beast. A tremendous mental pressure was required for Nate to once again establish himself as the master. His inner beast quieted with a low, warning growl, and Nate forced himself to minutely relax. Although currently subdued from its lethal violence, his beast lounged gracefully on his haunches while he waited for Nate to act. It was a deceptive calm, because Nate could sense that, with its muscles bunched tight and its canines slightly protruded, its fury was still barely contained. His inner beast was tense and ready to pounce at a moment’s notice. Read more »

Here Kitty, Kitty

Snarling, Mercy felt her frustration get the best of her after he easily dodged her first attack. She stared at him, assessing him for weaknesses to exploit, but his deceptively relaxed stance gave her none. Trained for combat from a young age, Mercy wasn’t used to being on the losing end of a fight. In fact, she was better than most of the leopard males in her pack. But this man, this wolf, easily parried her every blow, making her feel as though she was a child again in front of her old teacher. Her chest rumbled in anger as she breathed out slowly, trying to calm herself down. Emotional fights were dangerous, she knew that, but this wolf always managed to unsettle and infuriate her.

“You done, pretty kitty?” Lucas’s cocky tone rankled her, but the way his voice scraped against her sensitive nerves infuriated her even more than she thought possible. With his messy blond hair and his dark jeans that were slung low on his hips, he looked more like a rugged model who had just finished a photoshoot for a perfume add or something. Her eyes involuntarily drifted down his toned chest, lingering on the lines of his abdominal muscles. She’d never been too fond of the overtly muscled type, preferring tall and slim males, but there was something about Lucas’s physique that had always called to her. She wanted to caress the hard planes with her tongue. Slowly. A head taller than her, he likely outweighed her by a hundred pounds. Read more »