Episode 5
My hair, which had been stiff and charcoal gray before bathing, had transformed into a fluffy pale gray.
Though occasional darker streaks remained, they seemed to be shadows cast by my wavy curls.
‘If my hair color changed suddenly, people would get suspicious… But this doesn’t look like a wolf’s color at all.’
No matter how many times I ruffled my hair, the deep gray from before washing was gone. I tried to recall my fur color from memory, but mirrors were scarce in cat territory.
Yet whenever I glimpsed my reflection in rusted metal or muddy puddles, it had always been gray… Oh no.
‘Maybe this is its true color, and the dark gray was just dirt buildup! What do I do?!’
I scanned the room and snatched a fresh towel to twist my hair into a coiled wrap.
…Will covering my head seem suspicious? They might think I’m hiding something.
After a pause, I squeezed my eyes shut and reopened them. Cat ears, activate!
Twitch—
‘Perfect. Theo and Deon said my ears looked convincingly wolf-like earlier.’
I stood before the mirror, fussing with the perky gray cat ears peeking through the towel until they stood alert. Once satisfied, I secured the towel and grabbed the button Lady Gray had left on the shelf.
Hiding this in my pillow should keep it safe. No one would throw it away if this is my room now.
Shuffling in oversized slippers, I slumped onto the bed. Tucking the button deep into the pillowcase, tension melted from my shoulders.
‘This bed is heavenly. I wish I could stay here for a week…’
Theo and Deon seemed friendly, but Lord and Lady Gridwulf clearly disapproved. Lady Caris especially frowned whenever she saw me, as if I soured her mood.
‘The mansion belongs to them. They’ll kick me out soon.’
Even if they didn’t discover I’m a cat, my small size and youth made me useless in their eyes. Compared to wolves, I was a twig.
…But maybe…? I adjusted my towel and buried my face in the blanket.
“Ah—!”
The plush fabric drew an involuntary sigh. My legs, swollen from the trek here, throbbed anew.
‘I should wait for the others… but it’s so warm.’
I dragged my chafed palms over the blanket. Sinking into its softness felt like being cradled in Mother’s arms.
I’d imagined my siblings and I huddled like this after birth. I’d planned to groom their fluffy fur every day.
‘Were they boys or girls? Mother said three… She wondered most about their colors…’
My chest tightened. The ears I’d perked so diligently began to droop.
‘No. I’ll grow strong. I’ll avenge her.’
I needed adult protection until then. Shaking off despair, I rewrapped the blanket.
Pressing it to my face like a hug, I almost dozed—but jerked awake.
‘Rest later. I must beg Lady Caris and Lord Jackal again.’
Forcing my trembling limbs upright, I stumbled out.
“Explain yourselves.”
Caris’s voice was ice. Theo and Deon, still enchanted by Kittya’s jelly-soft paws and tragic story, faltered.
“Her name’s Kittya. They call her ‘Marshmallow Paws’!”
“She’s squishy as a cotton ball! Wouldn’t she make the perfect little sister?”
“Theo. Deon.”
Jackal’s whip-crack tone silenced them. His glare warned against games.
The brothers exchanged looks. “She came because Gridwulf hires orphaned wolves,” Theo mumbled.
“But she’s too young to work,” Deon added.
“So you suggested adoption?” Caris snapped.
“We didn’t mean—”
“Twelve years ago,” she cut in. “Four years ago. Recall the Blue Moon’s madness?”
The boys paled. Twelve years prior, the mythic gem Blue Moon had surfaced in leopard lands. Drawn by its divine aura, leopards flocked—only to be consumed by its primal magic.
Madness followed. They slaughtered indiscriminately, ravaging neighboring territories. Countless perished.
“And now,” Caris pressed, “leopards weaponize that magic. If it corrupts this household, no one here is safe.”
“But if Father claims her as family,” Theo argued, “even enraged wolves wouldn’t attack kin.”
“Survival isn’t safety,” Caris said coldly. “A cat among wolves?”
“You called her a wolf earlier,” Deon muttered.
Jackal glanced away, unable to admit the kitten’s sparkly eyes had disarmed him.
“She’s alone,” Deon pleaded. “A den of potential madness is no worse than the outside.”
Caris’s mind flashed to Kittya torn apart by leopards. Her hand drifted to her stomach—a gesture only Jackal understood.
“Leave us,” she whispered.
That night, twelve years past:
