Chapter 4

Right as I was about to jump, my sharp ears caught a shift in Liam's breathing.

It got heavy, fast, like he was struggling.

Was he… running a fever?

Back when I was a stray, an old clinic cat told me humans were kinda fragile.

Got wet in the rain? Fever. Scratched by a cat and didn't clean it? Fever.

If it got bad, they'd turn into drooling idiots.

Liam had been soaked and scratched by me—double trouble.

I couldn't just let him turn into a dummy. I was a cat with a smidge of a conscience, okay?

So I slammed the window shut and crept to the bed.

The closer I got, the louder his ragged breathing sounded.

I touched his forehead—damn, it was like a frying pan.

He was burning up.

"Water…" he mumbled, voice all scratchy and weak.

I darted to the kettle in the room, poured a cup of warm water, and set it on the nightstand.

I was about to shake him awake.

But then I remembered Caleb. He was cool with me until he found out I could turn human.

After that, he was all moody and hot-and-cold.

Liam had taken me in, cleaned me up, trimmed my nails, but we were still basically strangers.

"You're a good guy, but I'm ghosting," I whispered, setting the water down.

Still, I owed him for saving my furry butt. So I decided to use my secret cat power—my saliva, now that I could go human, could heal wounds faster.

I unbuttoned Liam's pajamas, revealing that chiseled chest with my scratches.

Taking a deep breath, I started licking the wounds.

Ugh, that ointment was nasty.

I spat and gagged but kept going, even climbing onto him to hit every spot, licking like my life depended on it.

Halfway through, his breathing got heavier. His body felt hotter, and—oh crap—something was poking me.

I freaked out. What the hell? Was this backfiring?

I'd stayed human to keep my fur from gunking up the wounds, but now he was burning up even more, and my poor tongue was about to fry.

I chugged the water I'd poured for him, but the licking was working—half the scratches were closing up crazy fast.

"Alright, keep it up," I told myself.

Then, outta nowhere, a hand grabbed the back of my head!

"Mmph!" My face got smashed into his chest.

I squirmed like a maniac, but no luck.

Then Liam flipped over, pinning me to the bed.

He didn't even seem awake, one hand holding me down while the other touched my face.

"You're in my dreams again?" he mumbled, his voice muffled by drowsiness.

What the hell was he on about? I meowed, totally confused.

He hugged me tighter, practically crushing me.

I was not some snuggly pushover, okay?!

I wound up for a cat-punch combo, but he grabbed my hands, pinned them over my head, and locked my legs with his.

I tried to shift back into a cat for a slick escape—classic move.

But no matter how hard I tried, I was stuck human.

Oh crap. I was toast.

Worse, I legit felt like I was about to kick the bucket.

Liam had me locked in a one-armed bear hug—I couldn't squirm free.

Was I really gonna go down in history as the first cat smothered to death by a human?