Basil exploded from Sam’s grip. The cat hit the floor, launched himself at Urien’s outstretched hand, and sank teeth into the webbing between thumb and forefinger.
“Basil, no!”
Pain shot up Urien’s arm. His dragon roared, demanding he shake thecreature off, establish dominance over the ridiculous threat, and while it took every ounce of his control, Urien didn’t move.
Sam grabbed Basil again and pried the cat’s jaws open. Blood welled up in neat puncture marks across Urien’s palm.
“I’m calling the vet.” Sam’s face had gone white. “Something’s wrong with him. He’s sick, or…”
“He’s protecting you.” Urien cradled his bleeding hand. “It’s what cats do.”
“By attacking someone who brought vegetables?” Sam’s voice cracked. “That’s not protecting, that’s - Basil, what is wrong with you?”
Basil hissed again, thrashing in Sam’s arms.
Urien took three steps backward, Basil’s struggle intensified... five steps - the cat’s ears lifted slightly.
“I should go.” Urien grabbed a tea towel from the counter and wrapped his hand in it. “Let him settle.”
“You’re bleeding.” Sam looked torn between the cat and Urien. “Let me at least…”
“It’s fine.” Urien kept retreating toward the door. “Really. I’ve had worse from rose thorns.”
“I’ll pay for your dry cleaning. And…and bandages. Medical…”
“Sam.” Urien paused at the door, met Sam’s mortified gaze. “It’s all right. Animals sense things we don’t. He’ll calm down once I’m gone.”
Sam opened his mouth to answer, but Basil had stopped struggling and was now watching Urien with unblinking emerald eyes. Still hostile, but quieter.
“I’m sorry,” Sam said finally. “About the vegetables, and the breakfast, and…”
“Don’t be.” Urien meant it. “The chard recipe still stands. Maybe we could…”
Basil growled.
“Maybe another time,” Urien finished. He let himself out and heard the lock click behind him.
Sitting in the driver’s seat, blood seeping through the tea towel wrapped around his hand, Urien let himself feel it. Not the physical pain - that was already healing. Dragon constitution meant it wouldn’t take long for Basil’s efforts to heal.
The other pain was deeper and a lot more problematic. The one that came from being recognized for exactly what he was - a predator in their Treasure’s home. Basil had seen past his human skin to ancient scales and had known on some primal level that Urien could hurt his human with one careless movement.
And the cat was right. That was the worst part. Urien could have ended the attack in seconds and shaken Basil off with barely a thought. He had chosen not to because hurting Sam’s beloved companion would hurt Sam, and hurting Sam was unthinkable even as claws sank into his flesh.
But what did it mean that Sam’s own cat - the creature who loved him most in the world - thought Urien was athreat? What did it mean for their chances if even a twenty-pound tabby knew, instinctively, that dragons didn’t belong in that cozy cottage with its warm kitchen and caring human?
/~/~/~/~/
Mabon looked up from his newspaper when Urien limped into the library. “How did…” He paused, eyes widening as he took in the state of his mate. “What happened to your hand?”
“The cat hates me.” Urien collapsed into the leather chair and started unwrapping the blood-soaked tea towel. The fabric stuck to his palm in places where the blood had begun to dry.
Rux appeared in the doorway, probably drawn by the scent of blood. He took one look at Urien’s shredded palm, the scratches visible on his ankles where his trousers had ridden up, and burst out laughing.
“A cat?” Rux braced himself against the doorframe, shoulders shaking. “You got mauled by a house cat?”
“Twenty pounds of pure, concentrated hatred.” Urien examined the puncture wounds with a grimace. They’d already started healing, but the scratches on his ankles still stung like he’d been attacked by something far more formidable than a domestic feline. “I was attacked on sight. He didn’t even wait for an introduction.”
“What did you do to it?” Mabon set aside his newspaper and retrieved the first aid kit from the desk drawer, though they all knew Urien didn’t really need it. But each man had their own way of showing they cared about each other.
