Page 96 of Foxy Lady

"Oh my," Melanthe laughed as both kittens wriggled free, landing gracefully on the stage. Their tails shot straight up like exclamation points as they pranced around, investigating their new surroundings.

The gray kitten pattered over to sniff at Marianne's stilettos, while the brown tabby discovered its reflection in the glass coffee table, batting at its mirror image with soft paws.

"They're absolutely precious," Marianne cooed, carefully keeping her feet still as the gray kitten circled her chair. "How old are they?"

"Almost fourteen months now," Melanthe replied, watching her children explore with fond amusement.

Marianne's perfectly shaped eyebrows rose in surprise. "Really? They look much younger as kittens."

"That's because their animal forms reflect their actual developmental age," Melanthe explained, reaching down to scratch behind the brown tabby's ears as it trotted past her chair. "At this age, shifter children usually prefer their animal forms. They have much more mobility and independence as kittens than they would as human toddlers."

The gray kitten had discovered the flower arrangement on the coffee table and was cautiously batting at a dangling leaf. Melanthe scooped it up before it could knock over the vase.

"They don't really understand the concept of staying human in public until they're older toddlers," she continued, placing the squirming kitten on the floor. "Right now, they shift back and forth constantly, depending on what they want to do."

Marianne leaned forward, her eyes twinkling. "It must be easier to care for them in this form, with them being so independent."

Melanthe huffed out a laugh, shaking her head. Her long dark hair swayed with the movement. "You would think so, but not necessarily. Let me tell you about the time I visited my friend Selene last year."

The brown tabby kitten darted across the stage, chasing an imaginary prey, while its gray sibling watched from behind Melanthe's chair.

"I was holding her son - he was about a year old at the time - and trying to feed him some baby food while Selene was making us lunch. He absolutely refused to eat his peas." Melanthe's golden eyes sparkled with amusement. "He started crying, and before I could do anything about it, he shifted right there on my lap into a polar bear cub!"

The studio audience gasped, then broke into delighted laughter.

"A polar bear cub?" Marianne's eyes widened.

"So suddenly, instead of a crying baby, I had a thirty-pound bear cub sitting on my lap, roaring his unhappiness to the world."

Harper watched as Marianne's perfectly manicured hand flew to her mouth, trying to contain her laughter. "What in the world did you do with an upset polar bear cub on your lap?"

"Well, his mother Selene..." Melanthe paused, her golden eyes dancing. "She marched right over, bopped him on the nose with her finger, and said in that universal Mom voice we all know, 'Alexander James, you change back right this instant!'"

The studio audience burst into laughter, and even Troy chuckled, shaking his head.

"And did he?" Marianne asked, leaning forward in her chair.

"Oh yes." Melanthe's smile widened. "The thing about shifter children is, they understand language perfectly well in either form. He knew exactly what his mother meant, and that she meant business."

The brown tabby kitten chose that moment to pounce on its sibling behind Melanthe's chair, sending both of them tumbling across the stage in a playful tussle.

"Of course," Melanthe continued, watching her children with fond exasperation, "then we had the problem that he'd done what we asked - he changed back to human when told to do so. So naturally, we had to reward his good behavior."

"Let me guess," Marianne said, her eyes twinkling. "No more peas?"

"Not a single one," Melanthe confirmed with a laugh. "He got away with it completely. Shifter parenting can be... complicated sometimes."

Harper leaned forward, her heart jumping as one of the kittens - the gray one - trotted to the edge of the stage. The kitten's golden eyes fixed on something in the audience, her tiny body tensing as she crouched down.

"Oh no," Nathan muttered beside her.

The kitten's rear end wiggled, her tail straight up in the air.

"Cassandra!" Melanthe's voice cracked like a whip.

The kitten froze mid-wiggle, then sat down primly. As if nothing had happened, she stretched out one hind leg and began washing it with intense concentration.

From across the stage, her sibling spotted the movement. With a chirping sound that carried clearly through the studio's microphones, the tabby kitten charged. In a flash of fur and flailing limbs, both kittens rolled across the stage in a squalling wrestling match.