PSW Chapter 48: The Prey Remains Unaware

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🍊 Chapter 1-105(End)

"A prey that has yet to fall into the trap

never realizes it was being hunted all along."

Bastet was unbearably drowsy—so much so that it felt almost ridiculous.

Cats were nocturnal creatures.

Humans, on the other hand, were the exact opposite.

That was probably the reason, Bastet thought. Because he existed as both a cat and a man, he was constantly sleepy, feeling lethargic all day long—like a black bear preparing for hibernation.

He knew he had slept for a long time, but in his dream, he was trapped in a vast forest. The towering trees stretched endlessly upward, so high that he couldn’t see their tops. From his perspective, all he could see were thick brown trunks, sprawling roots, and specks of lush green foliage.

Dazed, Bastet leaned against a tree trunk and sat down. Even though he knew he wouldn’t be able to see the sky, he still instinctively tilted his head up to look. That was when he noticed an enormous spiderweb overhead, magnified several times in size, its surface adorned with ice-blue gemstones.

Dreams were strange and nonsensical.

Bastet reached out, yearning for those blue gemstones, and as if responding to his desire, the web slowly descended. The largest gem gleamed brilliantly, its crystalline surface refracting the sunlight, mesmerizing him completely.

“So beautiful…”

Bastet stretched out his hand, drawn in, his fingertips moving closer and closer to the gemstone.

“Bastet.”

A male voice, cold as ice shards, startled him awake in an instant.

The small black cat blinked drowsily, looking around in confusion. Finally, his pupils focused on a face that was very close to his own.

Silky platinum-blond hair, matching pale lashes, icy blue eyes with upturned corners, and a flawless, breathtaking face—it was Yofar.

He had returned after a long day of handling state affairs.

Bastet: “Meow~” Oh, it’s you, my humble servant.

“You were dreaming. You kept calling out ‘blue gemstone.’”

Yofar’s voice was husky, a trace of fatigue visible in his eyes. He carried the faint scent of a recent bath.

Strands of damp hair clung to his face and neck, tiny droplets of water gathering at the tips of his golden locks. As they fell, they trailed down his cold, fair skin, capturing all of Bastet’s attention.

The sight was eerily similar to his dream—the suspended spiderweb adorned with captivating, deadly jewels.

And now, the true source of that deadly allure was lying on his side on the bed, pinning the cat against his chest. His hands gently grasped Bastet’s front paws as he narrowed his eyes in an expression so irresistibly seductive that no woman or man could possibly withstand it.

A perfect “kabedon”—but on the bed.

Bastet: “……” Wait, what? I just woke up, and you hit me with this?!

The little black cat swallowed nervously, his face blank, but he suddenly felt a warm trickle from his nose. A second later, two bright red streams of blood dripped onto his dark fur.

Bastet: “……” Oh, hell no.

Just as Yofar was about to brush his lips against the cat’s fluffy face—

Yofar: “……”

The regal and elegant Pharaoh momentarily froze, an expression of rare surprise crossing his face.

Meanwhile, Bastet, utterly mortified, wished he could dig a hole and bury himself on the spot!

“Bastet, you—”

“Meowwrr!”

Don’t call my name! I’m not here! I didn’t do anything! Who told you to get so close to my face right after I woke up?! Th-this is just a normal reaction!

“Meoww!”

Seriously! You saw nothing! It was all an illusion!

Bastet flailed wildly, somehow managing to wriggle free from Yofar’s grip. He shot up from the bed like a spring, spun around, clamped his tail between his hind legs, and shoved his little head under a pillow. His nosebleed left fresh stains on the bedspread.

Too embarrassed to even look at Yofar.

To be honest, as a cowardly gay cat, Bastet found it hard not to have certain thoughts about Yofar—the embodiment of raw masculinity, both ruthless and dazzling.

But he couldn’t—no, he dared not let those feelings take root.

Yofar was the Pharaoh of Egypt.

Bastet knew this affection would never blossom into anything real. More importantly, Yofar was perpetually cold and untouchable, exuding an aura so forbidding that it was as if the words "FORBIDDEN" and "DESIRE" were etched onto his cheeks.

Bastet simply could not picture Yofar whispering sweet nothings, engaging in romantic courtship, or sharing any kind of tender relationship—whether passionate and dramatic or quiet and warm.

It was as if romance itself did not exist in Yofar’s world.

Yofar was like winter in the desert—so cold it froze all impure thoughts in their tracks.

Bastet might have liked Yofar, but he was also terrified of him.

Bastet was genuinely afraid that if he looked up right now, he’d see Yofar frowning at him with some unreadable, piercing gaze.

As he was desperately thinking of a way to smooth things over, his feline ears twitched at the sound of rustling fabric. The shift in Yofar’s posture stirred the air, sending a breeze over Bastet’s fur.

The small cat tensed, his claws digging into the sheets, afraid Yofar might grab him by the scruff of the neck and toss him away.

And sure enough—Bastet was lifted into the air.

The poor little black fluffball curled his tail around himself pitifully, looking up at Yofar with pleading eyes. His four paws curled inward, and he even brought his front paws together in a gesture of supplication, bowing as if in prayer.

Bastet: Wishing you prosperity and good fortune, mighty Pharaoh! Please spare me, meow meow meow!

Yofar: “Hah—”

Yofar couldn't help but laugh at the cat’s antics, the corners of his lips curving upward.

“What are you so afraid of, Bastet? You’re bleeding from your nose. Don’t move—I’ll clean it for you.”

The little black cat, held firmly by the scruff of his neck, squinted one eye warily and tilted his head up just slightly, allowing Yofar to wipe his tiny nose.

“Meow…”

You… you didn’t see anything, right? Bastet asked hopefully, testing his luck.

Yofar chuckled softly. “I saw everything. It was adorable.”

Bastet: “……” I’m dead.

Staring at Yofar’s smile, Bastet felt as if he were gazing at the grin of the Grim Reaper. In a barely audible mewl, he hesitantly asked:

“Meow… (You’re not mad?)”

“Why would I be mad?”

“Meoww… (Obviously because I was on your bed and then, uh… you know, that.)”

“I’m not mad. I actually liked it. It looked nice. Can I touch it?” Yofar asked casually.

“……”

…Huh?

Bastet stared blankly at him, his round green eyes widening in shock.

Meanwhile, Yofar set down the soft cloth he had used to clean Bastet’s nosebleed. His lips curled subtly, his gaze lowered. Then, right in front of Bastet, he reached out his long, cool fingers and—

—pinched Bastet’s fluffy little tail between two fingers.

With a slight tug, he pulled it away from where the little black cat had been desperately trying to hide.

Lifting Bastet slightly higher, Yofar tilted his head, examining the cat with intense focus. His face was so close that Bastet could feel his breath brushing against the fur on his round, chubby belly!

At this moment, Bastet was still frozen in shock, unable to react. That is, until—

—Yofar (censored).

A strange sensation shot up from below, instantly reaching its peak.

Bastet’s mind short-circuited.

Bastet: (ΩДΩ)

“MEOWAAAAAHHH—”

A bloodcurdling screech echoed throughout the entire palace. The guards stationed outside the door jolted in alarm.

Inside the royal bedchamber, the maids who had been retreating to the entrance curiously lifted their heads upon hearing the noise, trying to peek through the layers of gauzy curtains. Only when the chief lady-in-waiting gave a low warning did they hurriedly lower their gazes.

On the bed, in his panic, Bastet transformed back into human form. Wrapping himself tightly in the sheets, he let out a wailing shriek, his tail raised high as he frantically tried to scramble off Yofar’s body. And yet, against all odds, Yofar—who was usually frighteningly fast—did not catch him in time.

Bastet turned his head, only to see Yofar reaching for him again. In sheer terror, he leaped three feet into the air.

“OH SHT OH SHT OH SH*T!”

Completely panicked, he sprinted toward a pillar, beginning a game of "cat and pharaoh" around it.

But he forgot—he still had a tail.

Before he could react, Yofar, his expression unreadable, grabbed hold of that very tail, lifted Bastet effortlessly into the air, and carried him back to the bed.

The youth tumbled onto the soft fabric, flailing like an overturned turtle. Just as he tried to get up, Yofar grabbed both his wrists and pinned them above his head.

Then, the weight of a fully grown man bore down on him all at once.

Bastet nearly coughed up blood.

Growing impatient with the struggling feline boy, Yofar snarled, “Bastet, do not make me angry!”

“How is this my fault?!” Bastet glared at him, face burning red with humiliation. He shouted back furiously, “It’s your fault for touching… touching that!”

You try wiping yourself down there and see how it feels!

Damn it, do you even realize you’re acting like a complete pervert right now?!

At his words, Yofar’s gaze darkened significantly. He stared deep into Bastet’s eyes and asked, “Bastet, do you actually feel shame? Do you understand what it means when I touch you there?”

“Of course, I understand!” Bastet frowned, dissatisfied. “Who wouldn’t—”

Wait.

Wait, no.

That’s not right.

Bastet suddenly remembered—his secret hadn’t been exposed yet.

In Yofar, Nephthys, and Sok’s eyes, he was supposed to be just a cat.

And a cat shouldn’t care about this kind of thing.

Realization struck him like lightning. Cold sweat instantly drenched his back.

Yofar’s sapphire-like eyes locked onto Bastet’s emerald-green ones. Their gazes clashed, mirroring each other like two precious gemstones, leaving no room for deceit or distraction.

Yofar pressed down even closer, their noses nearly touching. His breath, hot and deep, spilled into Bastet’s slightly parted lips, igniting a fire that seemed to burn all the way down to his chest.

Bastet’s mouth suddenly felt dry. Instinctively, he had the urge to lick his nose and lips—just like a cat.

“Answer me, Bastet.”

“I-I actually heard about it from Az,” Bastet blurted, grasping at straws. “When I first turned human, he was the only one around. He taught me a lot—how to eat, walk, um… use the bathroom, and other basic human stuff.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, really!” I’m so sorry, Az! I swear I’ll treat you to a feast the next time I see you!

Bastet flicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and blinked his big green eyes, trying to look as innocent and sincere as possible.

Yofar studied his face for a moment, the suspicion in his gaze finally fading.

Then, as if recalling something, his voice turned chillingly soft.

“…Did he ever do anything too intimate with you?”

Bastet let out a dry laugh, pretending not to understand. “What do you mean by ‘intimate’?”

“Do you really not understand?” Yofar narrowed his long, sharp eyes. “Then why did you run away just now?”

“Uh…” Bastet forced a grin, baring his tiny fangs. He nodded shakily and lied through his teeth, “You see, uh, being touched there feels really uncomfortable. Us cats don’t even touch each other there, haha… I-I swear I’m not lying.”

Yofar remained silent.

His gaze bored into Bastet’s pupils, cold and piercing.

Under that scrutiny, Bastet swallowed hard. The longer Yofar stared, the more forced his smile became. Every passing second felt like pure torture.

Finally, just when Bastet was certain he’d been caught, the tension between Yofar’s brows eased. The chill in his expression melted away.

“…Alright,” Yofar said. “I understand.”

Bastet’s taut nerves instantly relaxed.

Oh my god, I actually pulled it off.

Just as he was inwardly celebrating his escape, Yofar added nonchalantly—

“Since you don’t know… as your master, it’s my responsibility to teach you.”

“I’ll teach you what intimacy means.”

“……”

…

Huh?

What did he just say?

Bastet rubbed his ears, wondering if he had suddenly gone deaf. Otherwise, how could he possibly be hearing Yofar say something like that?

Or… was this all just a dream?

Was he dreaming about Yofar because he had been secretly fantasizing about him too much?

That must be it.

Come to think of it, he had been excessively sleepy lately. He’d even had a few consecutive dreams, getting lost in overlapping layers of reality and illusion.

The more he thought about it, the more plausible it seemed.

Slowly, Bastet reached out a hand and placed it on Yofar’s cheek.

He gave it an experimental squeeze.

“…Cold,” he murmured. “Mmm, and kind of soft. Feels like real skin.”

Wow, dreams are so realistic these days.

As Bastet muttered to himself, Yofar—who had been bracing himself above him—lowered his gaze.

His eyes darkened as they settled on the boy’s lips, a deep, alluring shade of red.

It reminded him of the taste he had sampled that morning.

The intensity in Yofar’s gaze seemed to morph into an invisible force, as if countless small, unseen hands were carrying out his desires for him.

Those unseen hands traced over Bastet’s lips, exploring their shape, pressing against their soft curves with reverence.

They slid through the slight parting of his lips, slipping past the small, pointed fangs, and finally nestled deep into the warmth of—(censored).

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