Page 15 of Bound to the Orc Renegade

CHAPTER EIGHT

Krivoth

I scowl at the feline fae. This is so damned annoying.

My bride sits on me still, her little hands plastered hot to my stomach to lever herself upright. My cock stirs, enticed by the feel of her weight resting on my thighs.

Mist pads closer, a wisp of smoke in my peripheral vision. Cat sith are nothing but trouble, able to sneak around invisibly, for all their large size.

“What do you want?” I grit out from between clenched teeth.

“I like you. You’re amusing.” She settles on her haunches, her green eyes glittering with mischief. “Things were getting a little boring around here.”

I snarl, showing my tusks, ready to say I don’t like her, but Taylor rolls the rest of the way off me, one hand reaching for the cat. She pauses halfway. “Can I touch you?”

“Of course.” Mist dips her head like a queen accepting the rightful devotion of her court and allows Taylor to scratch under her chin.

A loud rumbling purr fills the clearing, and Taylor gives a soft laugh. “You’re so soft! Your fur feels like it’s made of silk.”

I sit up as well. Much as I hate to admit it, Mist truly is a fine specimen. Underneath all that disguising fur lies the strong body of a hunter. Her paws are the size of Taylor’s palms, with hidden claws an inch-long and sharp, ready to extend and razor any opponent to shreds. In their own way, the cat sith are more formidable fighters than the cu sith, though the canine fae are far more straightforward to deal with.

“You can’t trust her,” I growl.

“Untrue. You canearnmy trust.” Mist’s slitted eyes snap open to spear me with a sharp green gaze. “Just because noorchas bothered to do so does not make a thing impossible.”

I grunt.

“Well, I like you,” Taylor says, shuffling even closer to the cat sith.

I long to reach out and yank her into my arms. Yet pride fills me as well. My bride is brave and open to new things. It speaks well of her ability to adapt to Alarria.

One of those paws reaches for my moon bound, and my whole body tenses, ready to spring. But the cat simply bats aside enough of Taylor’s hair to expose the rounded top of her ear. “What are you? You’re no elf.”

“I’m human.”

“Human!” Mist grins, wide and showing lots of teeth. “I’ve heard of humans. One of my great grandmothers visited your world and played with humans.”

“Played how?” Taylor asks.

“Like this.” Mist’s long smoke-colored fur blurs. She fades from view, leaving one last lingering bit of brightness from her smile before disappearing altogether.

“Oh. My. God!” Taylor claps her hands together. “That’s amazing.”

The cat pops back into view and regally dips her head. “Of course it is.I’mamazing.”

“I bet your great grandmother inspired the Cheshire Cat! Everybody thinks this one author made it up, but I found out it’s older than that when I had to research it for a game.”

Mist looks as confused as I feel, so the language issue isn’t only me.

“Explain.” Mist sets a paw on Taylor’s knee, the claws extending just enough to prick the blue fabric.

“The Cheshire Cat is a talking cat famous on Earth for being able to disappear like you do. It got written into a popular book, and now it’s used in lots of places.”

Mist lets out an approving purr. “This is as it should be. Everyone should know the wonders of cat sith.”

“Especially their modesty,” I grumble.

“Iwasbeing modest.” Mist’s laugh sounds like a loud purr chopped into little pieces by the sharpest of axes. “If a cat sith wanted to, they could rule the human world.”

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