I woke to the soft patter of snow against the motel window, the room bathed in a muted, wintry light that filtered through the curtains. For the first time in what felt like forever, a genuine good mood washed over me as reality sank in—we were in Canada. The border was behind us, that invisible line crossed, leaving the chaos of America's hybrid hunts and shootings in the rearview. No more constant fear of checkpoints or whispers of assassins like Trent. Here, at least, there was a chance for breath, for normalcy. I turned my head, gazing at Miko beside me. She slept soundly, her cat ears relaxed and slightly twitching in her dreams, her tail curled loosely around the blanket. Her face was serene, lips parted slightly, the faint scars from her wounds a reminder of what we'd endured, but she looked so damn beautiful, so at peace.
I watched her for a moment, my hand itching to brush her hair back, but I held off, not wanting to disturb her. She stirred anyway, her amber eyes fluttering open, locking onto mine with a sleepy smile. "Staring already? Couldn't resist?"
I forced a grin, my fingers finally giving in to trace her cheek. "Guilty. You look too good not to. But hey, we're in Canada now. Maybe we should go out—look around town, grab some real breakfast?"
She stretched languidly, her body arching against mine with a soft purr. "Sounds perfect. Let's see what this place has."
We dressed warmly—her beanie and scarf hiding her features just in case—and ventured out into the crisp morning air. Thunder Bay was alive with a quiet bustle, snow-dusted streets lined with shops and cafes, the lake's frozen expanse glittering in the distance. We found a cozy cafe nearby, the air inside thick with the scent of fresh pastries and brewing coffee. We ordered at the counter—croissants, eggs, and steaming mugs—and settled at a window table, watching the world go by.
As we ate, I noticed the hybrids. A fox-eared barista chatted freely with customers, no stares or whispers. A cat-tailed family at the next table laughed over brunch, unharassed. It was better than the USA—no overt hostility, no "freaks" slurs—but still not perfect. A couple of patrons shot sidelong glances, and I overheard a mutter about "those types taking jobs." "Better here," I said, sipping my coffee. "But not ideal."
She nodded, her tail hidden but her eyes thoughtful. "Yeah. Europe can't come soon enough."
After breakfast, we wandered the town—strolling snow-lined paths, popping into shops. The air was biting, but invigorating, the flakes light and playful. At a souvenir stand, I spotted a bag pin—a small maple leaf with "Canada" etched in red. "For your backpack," I said, buying it and pinning it on her bag. She beamed, hugging me tight. "Our first memento."
Back in the car, we pointed east toward Quebec province, the drive unfolding like a scenic postcard. Rolling hills gave way to dense forests, the snow heavier now, blanketing everything in pristine white. Lakes mirrored the gray sky, their surfaces frozen solid, and occasional wildlife—deer tracks, a fox darting across the road—added to the wild beauty. Miko stared out the window, mesmerized, her eyes wide as landscapes shifted from prairies to rugged terrain.
"You're quiet," I said, glancing over. "Everything okay?"
She turned, smiling softly. "Just... taking it in. You know, I've always been in the USA. Spent my whole life there—hiding, running. Now, seeing this... different countries, new horizons. It's exciting. Scary, but exciting."
I reached for her hand. "We'll see more. Europe next—mountains, cities, all of it."
As we crossed into Quebec, the cultural shifts became apparent—road signs flipped to French, "Arrêt" instead of "Stop," and the architecture took on a more European flair with steep-roofed buildings designed for heavy snow. Towns like Cacouna felt like stepping into a different world: bilingual chatter filled the air, with locals switching seamlessly between English and French, often with a distinct Quebecois accent that rolled like music. Poutine stands dotted the streets, the smell of cheese curds and gravy wafting temptingly, and we passed colorful murals celebrating indigenous and French heritage. Hybrids here seemed more integrated— a wolf-eared vendor selling maple syrup without fear, though subtle divides lingered, like signs in some shops reading "Pas d'hybrides" in quiet protest. It was a blend of old-world charm and modern tension, the French influence strong in the cuisine, the joie de vivre in the people, but with that underlying caution we'd come to expect.
We reached Cacouna by evening—a quaint town hugging the St. Lawrence River, its streets narrow and charming, motels dotting the waterfront. We checked into one with a view of the icy river, the clerk greeting us in rapid French. We tried responding—"Bonjour, une chambre s'il vous plaît"—but our accents mangled it hilariously, earning a chuckle from him. "American, eh? No problem."
In the room, Miko rushed to the bed, flopping down with a sigh. "Comfy at last." I joined her, but her eyes turned heated. "To celebrate... rougher?" she purred, stripping slowly, her sweater sliding off to reveal the faint scars from her bandages, her skin glowing in the low light.
I agreed, desire flaring hot and fast. Our lips crashed together, hungry and urgent, her tongue flicking against mine with feline tease, exploring every inch as if reclaiming lost territory. The kiss was sloppy, wet, her purr starting low and building, vibrating through our mouths and into my chest, making every nerve ending tingle. I could taste the faint sweetness of the croissant she'd eaten earlier, mixed with her own intoxicating flavor. My hands roamed her back, careful around the scars but firm on her hips, pulling her down harder against my growing erection. She moaned into my mouth, her cat ears flattening in pleasure, tail swishing behind her like a metronome of desire.
She broke the kiss, trailing her lips down my neck, nipping at the sensitive skin with sharp little bites that sent jolts of electricity straight to my groin. "I've missed this," she whispered, her breath hot against my ear, her purr rumbling louder now, a constant hum that amplified every touch. Her hands fumbled with my shirt, yanking it over my head, nails raking down my chest in red lines that stung deliciously, leaving me gasping. I returned the favor, sliding my fingers under her pants, hooking into her panties and pulling them down in one swift motion. She was already soaked, her folds glistening, clit swollen and begging for attention.
I pinned her to the bed roughly, my weight pressing her down as I sucked her nipple hard into my mouth, tongue lashing it while my teeth grazed the peak, sending shocks through her. She arched with a yowl, her purr turning feral, her hands clutching my hair, pulling hard enough to sting. "Harder," she demanded, her voice husky and breathy, hips grinding up against me desperately. I obliged, my hand kneading her other breast roughly, pinching and twisting the nipple until she whimpered, her body trembling beneath me.
Her scent enveloped me—musky and wild, a feline allure that made my cock throb painfully. I trailed lower, nipping at her stomach with bites that left faint marks, her skin flushing red under my assault. Parting her thighs wide, I dove in without mercy, my tongue plunging deep into her entrance, lapping at her walls roughly before sucking her clit hard, fingers thrusting inside her with brutal force, curling to hit that spot over and over. Her juices coated my face, dripping down my chin as she bucked wildly, her purr vibrating through her core. "Don't stop... fuck, yes," she cried, her tail thrashing, wrapping around my arm in a vice, the fur adding a teasing texture as I added a third finger, stretching her, my mouth relentless, biting her clit gently to push her over the edge. She came with a scream, her orgasm ripping through her, pussy clenching like a vise, squirting hot and wet over my mouth and chest, her body convulsing in waves of pleasure.
Panting and wild-eyed, she flipped me onto my back with surprising strength, her nails digging into my shoulders as she tore at my pants, stripping me bare. Her hand wrapped around my cock, stroking roughly, her grip slick and tight, thumb pressing into the sensitive underside as she leaned down to lick a stripe from base to tip, her rough tongue sending shocks of pleasure through me. "You taste so good," she purred, taking me deep into her mouth, sucking hard, her head bobbing with aggressive rhythm, purr vibrating along my length until I bucked into her throat. She gagged but didn't stop, hollowing her cheeks for more suction, her free hand cupping my balls, massaging roughly, nails grazing just enough to edge pain into pleasure.
"Enough," I growled, pulling her up by the hips and flipping her beneath me. I entered her in one brutal thrust, burying myself to the hilt in her tight, welcoming heat. She screamed in pleasure, her walls pulsing around me, her nails raking down my back in red welts that stung and fueled my pace. I pounded into her hard and fast, the bed creaking under us, skin slapping wetly as I gripped her thighs, spreading her wider, hitting deep with every slam. "Yes... fuck me like that," she begged, her purr a feral growl now, her tail thrashing as she pushed back against me, meeting every thrust with desperate hunger.
We shifted roughly—her on top, riding me like a storm, breasts bouncing as she slammed down, grinding her clit against me with each descent, her nails digging into my chest for leverage, drawing blood in thin lines; me behind her, doggy style, spanking her ass with sharp slaps that echoed, the red marks blooming as I pulled her tail, making her yowl and clench tighter; against the wall, her legs wrapped around my waist as I lifted her, thrusting up with brutal force, her back scraping the rough wallpaper, her screams echoing. Orgasms crashed in waves—her squirting multiple times, soaking us and the sheets, her body convulsing as she screamed my name; me filling her over and over, pulling out to paint her thighs before plunging back in, the mess sticky and hot between us. Sweat-slicked, we collapsed finally, limbs entangled, her tail draped over us lazily, her purr fading to a soft, contented hum against my chest.
Sleep claimed us, the stars visible through the window, the world outside dark and uncertain. But with her cuddling against me, it felt great knowing we're close to escaping.