Clarisse Cat Novels & Stories

Shysie said. ‘Brother? A f*cking hybrid?’ Clarissa walked to her patio and was not surprised when she saw a naked Wynn on the floor. “I should kill you,” Clarissa said, leaving the sliding door open and walking towards her front door. Clarissa opened the door and showed them with her hand towards her patio, rolling her eyes. ‘If I was not outnumbered, I would have killed the hybrid,’ she thought, furious with herself. “Blood,” Wynn stammered, weak, when Paris picked him up.

I shook my head, “I—what? I didn't do anything! We were in a crash, Yasmine, a wolf—” Before I could finish, Yasmine lunged forward, grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked me up to my feet. The sharp pain in my scalp made me gasp. “That little stunt you pulled at the game!” She hissed right into my face. “The official's kid! They followed us back, Trixie! The Northern pack retaliated!” My heart stopped. “No... it couldn't have—” Yasmine shoved me back down to the ground with everything she had. “It did!” She screamed, her voice cracking as a fresh wave of tears tracked through the dirt on her cheeks.

“What are you doing here?” “I… I uh…” Before he could complete his reluctant utterance, a side of the double door swung open and a partial view of the grand stairs ahead was presented. Then, Clarissa appeared, an illuminated lantern in her hold. Pulling down the hood of the dark-coloured, warm-looking cloak draping down her shoulders, the jolly face of the woman greeted Zaramanni. But, before Clarissa could say anything, her sight landed on the young he-wolf who was listening. Walking out to the huge porch, her arched brows knitted and she said, “Isaac?”

When rain came, the soil turned to dark sludge that clung to her dress like dried blood. Clarisse was different. Where Seraphine had been golden-haired and bold—the one who climbed the estate’s tallest oak to rescue a trapped sparrow—Clarisse was chestnut-haired and quiet, a shadow in a family that demanded spotlights. Where Zephyrine wrote poetry in the margins of her books—lines about "stairs that hunger" and "balconies that whisper"—Clarisse wrote nothing. She learned the rules early: Never mention the missing chairs. Smile when strangers visit.

Clarisse checked herself out again the sixth time, making sure everything was in order and asking Blue multiple times about her looks before leaving the room, dressed in a skinny black trouser, a white turtle neck top with long sleeves, black ankle boots, and a big black sweater. Blue assisted in putting on light makeup for her, wore a bangle, and carried a black purse. " Hi", she greeted smiling as she saw Christian waiting for her by the car. " Hey Mama, looking gorgeous", he complimented causing her to smile,

Clarisse was in her wolf form. *****************************************

A smile spread across my lips at the mere thought of her coming back to the pack. **Clair's POV*** “Argh!” I screamed out as I thrashed everything I found on my makeup desk. Immediately, the door to my room flew open and Teresa rushed in. “Clair, what's going on? Why are you mad? Who made you this angry?” I turned my gaze towards Teresa, tears in my eyes. “Teresa, what am I going to do now? He's refused to give me back my kids. What am I supposed to do!”

Clarisse immediately backed away after realizing that Alice was struggling to discern present and past. She lowered her guard, making sure that Alice saw that she wasn’t a threat like the person she was seeing in her dream. "Alice. Your name is Alice, and you’re safe. I’m Clarisse, one of the heads of the Hunter organization. You’re a hunter, remember?" Clarisse slowly saw recognition in her eyes. Alice slumped back on the bed and wiped the beads of sweat from her forehead. "I remember my past life, but it doesn’t mean that I forget my current. I don’t have amnesia." Alice answered with an annoyed tone right after she managed to recover.