Cursed To The Alpha

Chapter 29

As we wait for Janie to return, Imogen and I watch the bluebirds jumping from one tree branch to another like squirrels as they slowly get closer to the balcony.

‘Is it me, or is there something odd about those birds?’ Imogen asks.

‘They’re definitely odd, just like Mister Kal,’ I reply, keeping my eyes on them, and sit in Janie’s chic sun chair with sunflowers printed on the cushion.

Mister Kal casually struts over, jumps onto my lap to my surprise, extends his clawed paw and swiftly swipes deeply across my face. I jump up from the sharp stinging pain and pace the terrace, ‘That little ferret! He scratched me. It burns!’

Mister Kal vanishes in a flash, making me come to a halt, ‘Did he just vanish like a cloud out of thin air?’ I ask Imogen.

‘Yeah, he did! That was so cool! Where did he go, though?’ she asks, looking around.

‘Get out here now, you freaking little fuzzball!’ I shout.

‘Ooh, wow, those are some deep scratches,’ Imogen says with a cringe.

The scratches go across my face on an angle from my temple, across my nose and to my cheek. As we search for Mister Kal, the stinging pain ceases.

‘Rose, your face just healed. Where are the scratches gone?’ Imogen asks, touching my face in amazement and looking behind my ears for some unknown reason. I decide it’s best not to go there and ask why she checked there.

‘Being a werewolf has given me all their traits, including the ability to heal quickly, but that cat, Mister Kal, is still in trouble,’ I tell her.

‘Is Mister Kal magical as well? He did disappear before our eyes, and he understood what you said about him,’ Imogen says.

Janie returns to her room with a grin holding the car keys up, but then her smile fades to a frown as she sees her bedroom has been turned upside down. ‘How did you manage this mess in the two minutes I was gone?’ she asks in disbelief.

‘Why don’t you ask that magical disappearing ball of fluff of yours?’ I reply.

‘Mister Kal?’ she says.

‘Yes, that furball,’ I tell her, pointing at my face, ‘Mister Kal clawed my face when I said he was odd. He knew what I was saying, just like the comments I’ve made to him in the past about dogs. He knows what we say, Janie, and not just that he vanished before our eyes like a cloud of air,’ I tell her. ‘Your cat is magical. You know that, right?’ I add.

‘I figured he was magical when I went to the bathroom the other day and saw a bolt of flash-like lightning strike his litter tray. When the dust cloud settled, I could see him utilising the tray,’ she laughs.

Janie's revelation shocks me, and I exchange a bewildered look with Imogen. Mister Kal is not just any ordinary cat but a magical one with mysterious powers we don't fully comprehend.

‘Well, that explains a lot,’ I mutter, still trying to wrap my head around the fact that we are dealing with a magical cat on top of everything else.

‘What do we do now?’ Imogen asks.

‘We need to keep an eye on him and figure out what else he's capable of. Who knows what kind of trouble he can cause,’ I say.

‘Speaking of trouble, maybe you could clean this mess in my room?’ Janie says, bemused.

‘Couldn’t you just use your magic to clean the room?’ Imogen asks.

‘That’s a good point,’ I smile.

Janie takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, and focuses her energy. She begins to chant the magical words Luminos Tidus Sprectus softly under her breath, and as she does, a soft glow emanates from her hands. She creates a gentle breeze filling the room, lifting all the objects on the floor as if they have a mind of their own.

Imogen, sensing the magic in the air, turns on the radio, and upbeat music fills the room, and we start dancing around, laughing as the objects fly around us. The books fly back onto the shelves, the clothes fold themselves neatly and glide into the closet, the scattered papers float to their appropriate places on the desk, and the scattered cushions find their way back onto the bed and chairs, all with the help of the magical force. The room is transformed into a clean and organized space, with everything in its proper place.

As the magic fades and the gentle breeze subsides. The last trinket settles back into place, and the soft glow disappears, leaving the room sparkling clean and tidy. Janie's bedroom is restored to its former tidy state, much to her relief. We collapse onto the bed, laughing and feeling a sense of accomplishment.

We arrive at Mossmourn Grove. The air is cool and fresh, tinged with the scent of pine needles and damp earth. Imogen leads us through the dense woodlands of trees. We finally arrive at the hidden treehouse, which seems to blend seamlessly with the surrounding trees. I peer up and notice the large doorway. The entrance is tall and wide, with a sturdy wooden frame that matches the weathered exterior of the treehouse. It's evident that whoever built it made sure that even adults could comfortably enter the treehouse without crouching or bending down. It looks like it has stood the test of time as if it has always been a part of the forest. Janie climbs the rickety ladder and sticks her head out of the treehouse.

‘This place is amazing. The view is breathtaking,’ Janie exclaims, looking around in awe.

‘There’s never anyone out here. I like to come here when I need to think or need space,’ Imogen tells us.

The peaceful atmosphere of the forest seems to have a strange effect on me. As I approach a nearby tree, my teeth elongate into sharp canines, and my fingers transform into the claws of a wolf. Without thinking, I dig my claws into the tree trunk and swipe them across, revelling in the sensation.

As I step back, I'm surprised to see that the indentations are at least three inches deep. The realisation of how deadly my claws are and how easily they could harm others sends a shiver down my spine.

Janie climbs from the tree house and skips around, humming. She stops at the odd seedling growing and says, ‘Sprouto Spawniate.’ The seedlings grow into trees, and some even flower.