Seventeen years had passed since that nightmare on the Romanian front line, but the scars never really faded. The same house on the quiet street in Sofia still stood—walls a little more cracked, garden a little more overgrown—but it was home. Akira had raised us like her own after that night, her black cat ears now streaked with silver at the tips, her tail slower but still fierce when she needed it to be. She'd been our rock, our guardian, the one who held everything together while the world kept spinning.
Elena had moved on years ago, though she still carried that quiet hate for ever trusting Boris. She visited sometimes, bringing wine and stories from her new life, but her smile never quite reached her eyes when the old days came up. Sylvia was still Sylvia—fox ears perky, tail bushy as ever, working the same receptionist job at the hybrid clinic, cracking the same dry jokes like time had barely touched her.
I'd just come back from the graves. Mom and Dad—[reducted] and Miko—buried side by side under the willow trees by the river where they'd said their vows. I went there every month, sitting in the grass, talking to them like they could hear me. Today had been one of the harder ones. The wind had smelled like vanilla and gunpowder all at once.
I was cutting through the park on the way home, hands in my pockets, when I literally bumped into her.
She was beautiful—blonde hair cascading down her back, golden cat ears twitching with surprise, a tail the color of wheat swaying behind her. Tight jeans hugged a perfect ass that made my brain short-circuit, and the low-cut top did nothing to hide full, round tits that bounced just right when she steadied herself against my chest.
"Извинявай," she said in Bulgarian, voice like warm honey. "Не те видях." (Sorry. Didn't see you.)
Her eyes—bright green—locked on mine and lit up with clear interest. She tilted her head, ears perking. "You're cute. New around here?"
I managed a grin. "Born here. Just… distracted."
She smiled wider, stepping closer, tail brushing my leg. "My parents are out of town for the weekend. Big empty house. You should come over."
I didn't even hesitate. "Lead the way."
Her name was Nina. Five minutes later we were inside a neat suburban house, door barely shut before she pushed me against it and kissed me hard. Her tongue tasted like cherry lip gloss. Clothes hit the floor in a trail to her bedroom—my shirt, her top, jeans yanked down, bra and panties tossed aside.
She was naked in seconds, standing there like a goddess—blonde hair messy, tits full and heavy with pink nipples already hard, that perfect ass curving out, tail flicking with hunger. I stripped fast, cock springing free, rock-hard after seventeen years of nothing but my own hand and endless frustration.
Nina's eyes widened. "Wow… big boy."
She dropped to her knees first, taking me deep into her warm mouth, tongue swirling, sucking like she'd been starving for it. I groaned, fingers in her hair, ears flat in pure bliss. Then I pulled her up, spun her around, and bent her over the bed. I slammed into her from behind—deep, hard, the wet slap of skin filling the room as I fucked her like a man possessed. She moaned loud, claws shredding the sheets, ass rippling with every thrust.
We didn't stop there. I flipped her onto her back, legs over my shoulders, pounding missionary while her tits bounced and her tail wrapped around my waist. She came hard, clenching around me, screaming my name. I flipped her again, pulled her on top—cowgirl, her riding me wild, hips grinding, tits in my face as I sucked and bit. Then side, spooning, slow and deep while I played with her clit until she came again. Finally I pulled out, flipped her onto all fours, and fucked her ass—gentle at first, then rough when she begged for it, filling her completely.
When I finally came, buried deep in her pussy the last round, it felt like seventeen years of denial exploded out of me. We collapsed together, sweaty, panting, her head on my chest, tail lazily curling around my leg.
"Fuck," I whispered, grinning like an idiot. "That was… everything."
Nina laughed softly, tracing a claw down my stomach. "You fuck like you've been waiting forever."
I kissed her forehead. "Seventeen years, actually."
She gave me her number, kissed me slow and deep, and I left floating on air.
Back home the lights were on. Ava was sprawled on the couch in her usual spot—seventeen now, same golden eyes, same black cat ears, but her body had filled out into soft curves, tail longer and more graceful. She still looked mostly like the little troublemaker I remembered, just… mature.
Akira was in the kitchen, humming while she stirred something that smelled like paprika and home.
Ava looked up as I walked in, nose twitching. "What took you so long?"
I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Prayed longer at the graves today."
She narrowed her eyes, then smirked. "Bullshit. I can smell the lucky ones pussy on you from here."
I laughed, flopping down beside her. "At least I don't masturbate every night so loud the neighbors complain."
Her ears flattened, face turning bright red. "Shut up! That was one time and I was stressed!"
Akira poked her head in from the kitchen, ears perked, a tired but warm smile on her face. "You two, behave." Then her expression softened. "By the way… they finally found Lilly's body. In a ditch outside Plovdiv. Raped. Left there like trash."
She paused, stirring the pot again. "In a way… I don't care. After everything she dragged us into… I just don't."
The room went quiet for a second. Ava reached over and squeezed my hand. I squeezed back.
Seventeen years. We'd survived. We'd grown. And for the first time in a long damn time, I felt like maybe—just maybe—the story wasn't over yet.
But for tonight, the house was warm, the food smelled like home, and I had a pretty blonde cat girl's number burning a hole in my phone.
Life, somehow, went on.