Page 3 of Witch of My Heart

“It’s not about you! Cats don’t fight with lead weights on their paws!” I said, holding up my gloved fists.

“Those are for your protection,” Adrian laughed. “Seriously, Cord. Hit the fucking bag like you mean it!”

I silently cursed Marcus under my breath. Of course, my therapist thought this was a good idea. I could’ve exploded the bag with a single spell, but Adrian wouldn’t have appreciated that. He’d probably make me clean it up and pay for it too.I couldn’t unbreak things with magic, but recently I’d been a wrecking ball if I wasn’t careful.

“Okay, we’re not getting anywhere,” Adrian said, letting go of the bag.

He took a few steps back, standing akimbo and looking me up and down as if he couldn’t figure out what to do with me anymore than Starry, Xi, or my therapist. Ginger Barrel had fucked me over royally.

“What’s your instinct say?” Adrian asked.

“’Bout what?” I asked him.

“About the bloody bag, friend,” Adrian laughed.

I answered by tugging off the first boxing glove with the help of my teeth and letting it drop to the floor.

“Don’t hit the bag bare handed. I don’t want to wake Dara up before sunrise because you cracked a knuckle clean in half. Wait until his apprentice gets here before you make extra work for the clinic,” Adrian shook his head.

Ignoring him, I stripped off the other glove and let it fall to the floor too. Something blurred in the corner of my left eye – a little gray blob.

“We need to hydrate better. Floaters are no joke!”My cat chimed into my thoughts.

I blinked again and it was still there. I almost asked my trainer turned therapist if he saw it too, but then I blinked and whatever the gray blob was disappeared.

With a quick glance around the room to ensure we were still alone; I ran backwards until I found the wall. I closed my eyes and gave into everything I wanted to do to Ginger Barrel since I found out she was my sire. I charged full speed ahead, giving into my inner beast, as his grace and speed spread through my limbs. Then I leapt. The shift was fast. Starry always said I shifted too fast for how small I was, but it had always been thatway. One second, I was a man. The next I was a cat. That’s just how it worked.

Everything grew sharp in my feline vision, and I collided belly first with the beast of a bag. I tore into the belly of the evil bitch with tooth and claw. Leather ripped under my claws and part of me knew I’d pay for that later, but that part didn’t get a say in the matter currently.

This was war!

Me against the deer hide leather that still smelled like the prey it once sheltered. I was winning, ripping everything under me to shreds. I was disemboweling the bag and Ginger and everything it all was supposed to represent. Blood pounded through my veins. I was alive! I was vicious! I was---

I stopped when Adrian laughed. I glanced over at him, still stuck to the bag with my front claws, disemboweling the bag with my back claws, and taking a huge chunk out of it with my teeth.

“Sorry, Cord. I know this is serious. I know this is supposed to be part of your therapy, but you’re fucking adorable.”

I’d show him fucking adorable! He’d be the next bag I disemboweled. I shook my head and forced my cat’s natural instincts down back into the pits of my soul. Today wasn’t a good day to disembowel Adrian. Too many people knew I was here. I shook my head again.

“Slow down on the killer instincts. He’s big enough to eat you,”I warned my cat from inside the inner sanctum where he usually resided while I lived our lives in human form.

“He can try!”

The hiss was enough to send Adrian back a few steps. I gave the bag one last bite -to show it what was good for it- and hopped off before my cat gave me back control. In human form, I flopped onto my back and stared up at the bright overhead gym lighting.

“That wasn’t bad. I’m sorry for laughing,” Adrian said, squatting down next to me. “You did well following your instincts. It just caught me off guard a bit, that’s all.”

“I think I turned it into a scratching post,” I said, ignoring his apology.

People laughing at the domestic cat shifter was old news. Adrian didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just how big shifters were. Not Starry. He’d treated me as if I were a dragon-sized cat since the moment he figured out I was a shifter. Not Xi, either. Well, not once he knew. Though, he still liked to tie ribbons around my neck if I let him.

“Everyone likes to feel pretty while they commit murder,”my cat purred into my thoughts.

“That’s why you don’t get to come out during therapy. Marcus wouldn’t get what you mean.”

“It’s not my fault he’s a fox and not a cat,”he purred back at me.

Attacking the punching bag left him exhilarated. It left me nauseated and ready for a cuppa.

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