Novels by Cate_Mae

Albert The air at the human market smelled of sweat, spices, and trouble.I had barely registered the shift in Edward’s stance before the first blow came as they argued. A blur of motion from the corner of my eye. He caught the attacker mid-lunge, metal flashing between them as steel met flesh. The noise was deafening: the clatter of stalls being overturned, the startled cries of merchants, the dull thud of fists.I should have stayed. I should have fought. But the moment the second figure rushed him, I knew this was my chance.I shifted before I could talk myself out of it not caring if any human saw me. Bones cracked and reformed, muscles stretching, fur bristling against the cool air. My vision sharpened, the scents around me exploding into painful clarity. They were coppery blood, hot fear and the sour tang of the assailants.And Edward’s scent. It was thick, dominant, pulling at the thread that tied us together. It was overwhelming and it was calling me to tell the assailants t

EdwardThe moment Albert bolted, my world tilted. I didn’t think. My body simply reacted, muscles snapping into motion as my wolf surged beneath my skin, demanding I follow. The front door swung open with a violent shove, smacking the wall as I charged through it.The scent trail was fresh, sharp with adrenaline, bitter with fear, and it cut through the damp air like a live wire. My boots hit the pavement hard, pounding in rhythm with my heartbeat. He hadn’t shifted, which made him slower, but also more vulnerable. The thought twisted my insides.I followed him for a night and day and I had some men to help me. I finally found his trace as he left the witch territory of Atlanta. He had come far.“Albert!” My voice tore out of me, rough and commanding, but the only reply was the slap of his shoes on wet concrete somewhere ahead.He was fast. Faster than I expected in his condition. But I could hear the ragged edge of his breathing, could smell the fatigue already gnawing at him. He h

AlbertI didn't know where I got the energy to run but I did. I ran for the whole night. I ran until I was out of human civilization and into woof territory.The border between wolf land and witch territory wasn’t marked by a fence or a wall, but I felt it all the same. It clung to the air like a warning, thick and strange, as if the very wind whispered that I didn’t belong here. My boots crunched over the brittle leaves, each step pulling me further away from everything I had ever known… and deeper into the unknown.I shouldn’t be here.Every nerve screamed it. I knew that it was dangerous and yet I also knew that it was something I and to do.The witches had never been allies to my kind. They weren’t enemies either, but they didn’t exactly welcome werewolves wandering into their space because werewolves were animals and many are the times we are driven by animal instincts especially when we don't get what we want. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to look small, unthreatening,

Albert The forest felt different tonight. Not that I had been in the forest at night and alone willingly.The air was colder, sharper, cutting into my lungs like shards of ice every time I drew in a breath. My legs burned from running, but I couldn’t stop. Not now. Not when I could still hear them, soft, barely-there footsteps in the distance, but heavy enough for my wolf to recognize.Emon and Edward.The thought of their names together was enough to make my chest tighten. I didn’t know if they were working together or chasing me for different reasons, but it didn’t matter. They both wanted me back. And I… I wasn’t ready to be found.I wasn't ready to go with any of them. I was done.A sharp crack behind me, someone stepping on a twig, snapped my attention over my shoulder. My heart lurched, and I pushed harder, weaving through the undergrowth until branches clawed at my arms and my feet slipped on wet leaves.“Come on, Albert,” I muttered under my breath, half to encourage myself,

AlbertThe first thing I noticed when I woke up wasn't the dull ache in my temples or the uncomfortable weight in my stomach.It was the voices.Two of them. Sharp, tense, layered over each other like blades scraping and I felt my head ache.Edward.Emon.The sound of my name pulled me further into consciousness, and when I blinked my eyes open, the room came into focus; Edward standing stiff at one side of my hospital bed, Emon at the other, both of them glaring at each other like they were one second away from tearing the walls down.“...you don’t belong here,” Edward was saying, his voice low and deadly.“I belong wherever Albert is,” Emon shot back. “You have had your chance. You have already hurt him.”I groaned, pushing myself up against the pillows. “What… what are you two doing?”They both turned to me instantly, their faces softening for a fraction of a second before hardening again when they looked at each other.“Albert, he…” Edward began.“Don’t listen to him, he…” Emon

EmonThe market stank of wet earth and desperation.It always did when you knew what you were looking for.I kept my hood low, my hands in my pockets, my eyes scanning for the stall Bibi Kamwe’s contact had described. A place that didn’t look like much from the outside, just baskets of dried roots and cloudy jars of pickled herbs, but held exactly what I needed.The first two ingredients had been surprisingly easy to find. The third, though… the “tongue of the black cobra” wasn’t something you could order online or pick up at the corner shop. And the seller knew it. His beady eyes tracked me as I approached, and his smile was all crooked teeth and greed.“You’ve got coin?” He asked, voice low.“I’ve got what you want,” I said, sliding a folded envelope across the counter. He weighed it in his palm before slipping it into his vest. Only then did he reach under the table and produce a glass vial, the dark shape inside curling like a sleeping shadow.“Fresh,” he said. “Careful with it.