Outcast

Chapter 7

---Lane's POV---

Living with Jethro was odd, to say the least. While he was a stern, stoic and silent roommate, he was also a lot different from the pride. Where I expected to be ignored when my wounds ached, he gave me medication. When I had issues with controlling my cat, he taught me how to focus and calm down on my own.

My fear for Jethro was slowly changing in a deep respect and awe for the man. Even though he didn't show me his shift, he made it a point to let me shift daily as soon as the wounds were healed enough.

Hell, he asked me to accompany him on his patrols to cover the edges of his territory. I found out I enjoyed those silent patrols quite a bit, my tiger purring silently in my mind and urging me to sink my claws in the nearby trees.

To scent-mark Jethro's territory as well, mingle our scents so it would be our territory.

But even if I didn't get the same shifter upbringing like anyone else, I knew enough to realize that would be extremely rude, downright disrespectful and challenging to Jethro. And Jethro hadn't even enforced his dominance over me at all.

Instinct told me however, that I was already submitting willingly to his rules. Last night for instance, I had gone out on a run and Jethro had warned me to be back before midnight. Even fully shifted and my tiger in control, I had been surprised when I found my cat strolling back before the time was done.

More so, when Jethro looked at me with that gleam in his eyes, that showed me he was fucking proud of me for listening to him, I felt... elated...My cat was purring in my head while I stood on shaking legs, wondering why the hell I felt so pleased and happy that Jethro was proud of me.

Right now, I was laying in front of the fireplace, trying to make sense of this whole situation as my tiger groomed itself slowly, glancing at Jethro from time to time. He was busy preparing supper and I felt annoyed with myself for some unknown reason.

Maybe it was the fact that I was used to fend for myself, or that Jethro was doing everything in the household while I lazed around and did nothing.

A quiet huff escaped my animal as it pushed me back in my mind and stood up, walking up to Jethro's back before bumping its head against his legs. It instantly caught his attention but he didn't respond right away, much to the chagrin of my tiger.

It huffed, turning its head for a moment before pawing at Jethro's leg. "Knock it off, kitten." He warned lowly but the tiger refused to listen and instead, gripped the back of his pants between its teeth and pulled.

Control was instantly given back as the cat realized its mistake when fabric protested sharply and bare skin came into view. My ears flattened immediately, body pressing to the floor as I eyed the long tear in Jethro's pants with fear.

Oh shit...Fuck, fuck, fuck!

When Jethro's muscles tensed as he slowly turned around, I did the only thing that came to mind.

I fucking bolted for the door. Even as my claws clicked on the surface, slightly digging in to give me more grip, I knew he was right on my tail. For a second it looked like I'd make it, the outside clearly visible through the open door.

But right as I was about to reach it, I stopped when I felt fingers on my scruff that held on tight, yet remained gentle. My whole body froze, breath panting through my chest as I was slowly pushed down on the floor.

For a second, I couldn't make out what was going on, my mind filled with memories of my pride's actions whenever they'd manage to corner me. It was probably the reason why I actually dared to hiss at Jethro when he stepped around me, why I jumped slightly before pressing myself against the wall.