Page 111 of Untamed

She scratches behind its ears, nose crinkling when it purrs louder, and I swear I forget, for a split second, who I am. What I’ve done, the blood still drying on my shoulder.

I forget all of it.

Because of her.

Because ofthis.

She looks up then, catching me watching. And I don’t look away fast enough. Her smile falters, turning shy a touch of pink tinting her cheeks. “What?” she asks, voice so quiet I almost miss it.

I shake my head once. “Nothing.”

But it’s not nothing, it’s not nothing at all...it’s fuckingeverything.

Jordyn tucks her chin, brushing her cheek against the kitten’s fur. “You’re not as scary as you pretend to be, Ares Russo.”

I scoff, leaning my good shoulder against the doorframe, arms crossed, doing everything I can to hold the pieces of me together. “Don’t let the cat lull you into a false sense of security.”

“He’s not the one I’m worried about.”

Our eyes meet across the room. And just like that, the stillness stretches, thick with something neither of us dares name.

The kitten is curled into a tight ball at the foot of the bed, fast asleep in the warmth of the sheets. Typical. Not only is he uninvited, but he’s already made himself right at home.

Adorable little bastard.

I nod toward the bundle of fur. “We should find his mother. He looks too small to be on his own, probably got lost.”

Jordyn looks up at me, a slow smile tugging at her lips. “You really don’t know much about cats, do you?”

I narrow my eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She lifts the kitten gently into her lap, cradling it against her chest. “If a mama cat gets stressed, is unwell or thinks her kittens are in danger, she’ll move them, or leave them altogether.”

“Leave them?” I echo, frowning. “Just like that?”

She nods, stroking her thumb over the kitten’s head. “Yeah. It doesn’t mean she didn’t care. Sometimes... she just thinks they’re safer without her.”

My gaze drops to the kitten, now purring against her hand, already claimed by her warmth. That strange twist tugs in my chest again.

“Huh,” I mutter, sitting back slightly. “Didn’t realise cats had abandonment issues.”

She chuckles softly, eyes still on the tiny ball of fur. “It’s not about abandonment. It’s about survival.”

The words hang there between us, heavier than they should be.

And somehow, without meaning to, we’re no longer talking about cats.

Jordyn sits cross-legged and silent, her eyes flicking to me. I think she’s going to say something else, maybe tease me again, but instead, her brows pinch.

“Ares,” she says with a soft gasp. “Your shoulder...it’s bleeding.”

I glance down.

The bandage on my shoulder is soaked through, bright crimson blooming against white. Pain is there, still sharp and pulsing, but I’d stopped feeling it hours ago. Or maybe I’m just distracted.

Jordyn is already placing the kitten on the bed and rising, her steps careful as she walks over. “Sit.”

“I’m fine.”

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