Calico Warrior Cats Novels & Stories

The calico cat’s tail suddenly flicked upward, and in the puddle at its feet, it traced out a perfect candlestick chart—its tail moved with a precision that seemed almost too deliberate. “Come home with me,” Takuto said without really thinking. The words left his mouth as he pulled open his raincoat. “I need a CFO.” The calico cat tilted its head, studying him for a moment before it darted suddenly into a nearby alleyway. Takuto, stunned for a second, followed quickly. When he reached the alley, the cat was already seated behind a makeshift “desk” created out of stacked cardboard boxes. The office was oddly professional, adorned with:

I rip off my shirt, stripped down to my sports bra, and continue to try to purge my carnal needs. The scent of arousal has the male werecats circling. I open my eyes to find six of the male warriors smiling goofily at me. Dark, sensuous male bodies in different stages of undress all look as if they could devour me. “Hello gentlemen,” my voice warbles. I need to save my dignity if I can. “Thank you for coming to guard me, as your Princess I am honored to be so well taken care of. I have enjoyed my workout with you today. I am quite pleased with your progress.”

' 'Because you never fight me, and because I’m a total badass. And so, so modest. I snicker quietly, and Torin shoots me a look. Oops. Now he probably thinks I’m laughing at Cala. Her fight with Jeb is quick and decisive. Jeb’s wolf is huge — dark grey with black patches — towering over Cala’s smaller chocolate-brown one. He dominates from the start, and she submits quickly. Shifting back, her frustration is obvious. She dresses fast, not lingering on her nudity like Daxton and Liam, clearly just as uncomfortable as I am.

The tips of my ears burned. A shiver ran down to my tailbone, and a fluffy wolf tail threatened to manifest right then and there. Just then, a new notification popped up at the top of the screen. Rylan Blackthorn just posted a new Tweet. My finger shook as I tapped it. The message was brief: Mischievous kitten. The accompanying image shows a majestic Maine Coon cat, its fur identical to my wolf-like coat, resting its fluffy head affectionately on a slender, pale hand.

When he returned to Thunder Bay Pack at age sixteen, he brought her along. She was a White Warrior wolf, a wolf who wasn't bound by the mate bond or pack rules, unlike a typical werewolf. White Warrior wolves were born fighters and loners, exposed to harsh, life-threatening conditions by their parents from a young age. They were usually drawn to the alphas of various packs, probably because they are equals in strength and endurance.

And Blake is more extensive than me, so chances are whatever is out there might turn satisfied after eating him. "Werecats are wilder and much more savage than us werewolves. They can't be spoken or reasoned with, all they crave is blood, and they never hunt alone." "C-Cats who don't hunt alone?" My day is only getting worse. Blake nods. "They are like lions." I gulp and tap Blake meaningly on the back, causing him to spin around with his eyebrows heightened. I'm feeling like a kid looking up at their parent and expecting them to act as my shield.

The cat comes out purring rubbing herself against Ghost's long legs. "She's a Norwegian forest cat. White ones are rare. They're usually tri-colored or dark gray," Leelie tries to sell him on it. "Made a dent in your pocket," "You better keep the hair under control," he points at me. He steps back and is about to walk out when the cat meows loudly. He looks back at her. The cat goes over to him rubbing herself on Jayk's legs. Jayk crouches down to pet her and I swear she falls in love with him in that instant because she rolls over pawing at him. He smiles rubbing her belly.

It didn't take less than five seconds and I was healed magically. Nagisa's jaws dropped. " Just what are you?!" I put the bomb away and buried my hands deep in my pockets. " I'M A CAT WITH NINE LIVES!"

So Carlo was right… Slamming down the thought of Carlo and his insults, I focus on the kitten. “Okay, let’s get a look at you, sweetie. Oh good, the burn isn’t as bad as it could be. You are so lucky. Ah, oops, you’re a girl.” I run my hands gently over the kitten, watching her for any reaction of pain to my touch. A sigh of relief leaves me when she doesn’t meow in pain. Studying her, she’s pure black, not a spot of color on her.

I got out of bed and got dressed for the day, putting on some jeans ad a shirt, I finished getting ready and met the rest downstairs, all three of my best man, the highest ranking in my pack were just fussing at the little kitten, trying to get her fed. "Let's go," I call out loud, while they kept on fussing over her but I ignored it getting my shoes on and ready to go, all the shoes she got were mary janes, and flats, nothing suitable for our farm life, and nothing to wear around the house, she only wears her socks.