Cat Scratch Fever by Arianna Hart

Author:Arianna Hart
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, paranormal, cats, shape shifter, alpha males, sweet spot series, sizzling scribes
Publisher: Arianna Hart

Sage paced in front of the wood stove, gathering scents from the room. Walker’s spicy musk was everywhere as were the scents of paint, old books, wood smoke, and two other cats. All the scents were faded, but ingrained in the house. Instinctively, she knew the people who had lived here were content and loved each other.

“Sage, come here,” Walker called to her.

She responded by lowering her head and slinking to where he sat on the couch. He still smelled of his cat, and that both excited and cowed her.

“You need to change back.”

No! She reared back in denial. It felt too good to be free. There was no confusion now, she felt strong, she didn’t want to go back.

“You will change back. Sage, the cat is part of you, but your humanity must remain in charge.”

His voice was as unyielding as stone. She could feel his will pressing against hers, a solid wall of strength forcing her to submit. Her roar echoed through the house as she fought against him, but he didn’t let up.

“Force the cat back. You need to take control. I’ll help you cage her, but I can’t do it alone, you have to work with me.”

No! Cat didn’t want to be caged again. There was a tug on something inside of her, a gentle pulling. There was a feeling of assurance that she wouldn’t be locked up forever. She could rest now and come back out to play later. Sage needed to talk to Walker, she needed to be human to do that. Cat backed down slightly and Sage surged to the fore.

Oh God, the pain was excruciating. It felt like every muscle, every sinew, every cell was on fire. Her joints shifted and her claws retreated. An eternity later, she lay on the floor, panting and limp.

And completely naked.

Walker draped a blanket over her. “I’ll go get you something to drink. There’s a sweatshirt on the couch. You’re so tiny, I don’t think any of my sweatpants will fit you.

“Thanks.” She waited until he left the room before getting to her feet. Her joints still felt a little achy, but other than that, and being as worn out as a limp noodle, she felt fine.

The sweatshirt was soft and worn from many washings and smelled of laundry soap and Walker. She slipped it over her head and it fell to her knees, the sleeves hung over her fingertips and the neckline stretched to slide over her shoulder.

Great, she probably looked like a kid playing dress up in her older brother’s clothes.

Before she could wonder about why that would matter, Walker came in with a glass of water and a bunch of pre-packaged cheese and crackers. “I have something in the oven, but it’ll be another ten minutes or so until it’s ready. This should hold you for a little bit.”

“Thanks. I feel like I could eat a Thanksgiving turkey by myself right now, and I’ve eaten more today than I have since I stopped dancing professionally.

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