Page 5 of His Infernal Purr
“Stay away from my cat,” he warns, voice steady despite his racing heart.
The demons snarl, wiping the chemical spray from their eyes. “This isn’t over,” the leader hisses. “Valefar will hear of this.”
“Tell Valefar he can send a formal complaint in writing,” Finn retorts, pushing through the exit door.
Once outside, he doesn’t stop, running through the rain to the side entrance that leads directly to his apartment stairs. Behind us, I hear inhuman howls of frustration.
Only when we’re safely inside his apartment, door locked and warded (thanks to the protective symbols I’d managed to scratch into the doorframe days ago), does Finn set me down gently on the couch.
“What the hell was that?” he whispers, hands shaking as he examines my injured wing. “Who were those men? And why were they calling you a duke?”
Because I AM a duke, you magnificent, reckless human.
The pain in my wing is intense, but something else is happening. A warmth spreads through me, centering in my chest and radiating outward. The curse—it’s responding to something.
Finn’s selfless act of protection, putting himself in danger to save me despite the demons’ hints about my true nature—it was exactly what the curse required.
“I need to get my first aid kit,” Finn says, starting to rise. “That wing looks broken. Just stay—”
The warmth erupts into searing heat. I yowl, my body convulsing.
“What’s happening? Oh god, are you going into shock?” Finn reaches for me, panic in his eyes.
A blinding light engulfs me. I feel my body stretching, changing, bones cracking and reforming. The pain is excruciating but glorious—I’m returning to my true form!
Finn stumbles back, eyes wide with disbelief as the small cat on his couch transforms into something else entirely. The light grows so intense he has to shield his eyes.
When it finally fades, I stand before him in my true form—seven feet of obsidian-skinned demonic majesty, curved horns restored to their impressive size, leathery wings unfurled behind me. My amber eyes glow with hellfire as I flex fingers tipped with wicked claws.
“Holy SHIT!” Finn yelps, tripping over the coffee table and falling backward onto the floor.
I roll my shoulders, relishing the return of my proper form. “Not quite holy,” I rumble, my voice like distant thunder after weeks of pathetic meows. “But the sentiment is appreciated.”
Finn stares up at me, mouth opening and closing without sound. He looks ridiculous, sprawled on the floor in his rumpled scrubs, hair standing on end, eyes comically wide.
I can’t help it. After two weeks of indignities, of being cuddled and cooed at and fed from little bowls, I throw back my head and laugh—a sound that makes the windows rattle and the lights flicker.
“Your FACE!” I roar with delight. “You look like you’ve seen a—well, I suppose you have.”
“You’re… you’re…” Finn stutters, pointing a shaking finger.
“Morax,” I supply helpfully, offering a slight bow. “Duke of Hell, Commander of Thirty Legions, Master of—”
“MY CAT?!” he finally manages.
I grimace. “I was NEVER your cat. I was cursed, trapped in that ridiculous fluffy form by my rival, Valefar.”
Finn’s eyes drift downward, and his face suddenly flushes crimson. “And you’re… uh… naked.”
I glance down at my magnificent form. True, I am unclothed, my obsidian skin gleaming in the apartment’s soft lighting. Human modesty is such a strange concept.
“Does this make you uncomfortable?” I ask, genuinely curious. After all, he’s seen me naked for two weeks, albeit in feline form.
“I—you—BIG—” Finn stammers, then grabs a throw blanket from the couch and thrusts it toward me, carefully avoiding looking below my waist. “Please.”
With an amused snort, I wrap the soft fabric around my lower half. “Better?”
He takes a deep breath, still pressed against the wall. “You were my cat. For two weeks. I gave you baths. I let you sleep on my face.”
