"A complaint?" Ceres echoed, disbelief written across her face as she stared at Mercy. "Why? Are their fur babies not being taken care of? Did something go wrong with our service? This is the first time I've ever heard someone complain about the pet care center."
"It's not about our services, miss," Mercy answered, visibly uneasy. "The cat owners are petitioning for Dawn to be removed from the pet care."
"But why?" Ceres's brows furrowed.
"Dawn's been… aggressive. Hostile, even. She's been biting, scratching the other cats. One of them almost got its eye scratched out," Mercy explained hesitantly.
Ceres's expression darkened. "Has anyone inquired about the adoption post we put up?"
"There were a few interested parties," Mercy admitted. "But once they met Dawn… she clawed at them too. Even the staff has a hard time getting close to her."
Ceres sighed heavily and turned her gaze toward the Persian cat sitting alone in the corner of the playpen. Dawn, once the most sociable cat in the pet care facility, now refused to let any other feline come close. She hissed at every attempt to interact.
It had been a full month since her despicable former owners abandoned her, and two weeks since the adoption notice was posted on the glass doors. No one came for her.
"Alright. I'll take her," Ceres said with finality. "Please inform the other pet owners and extend my apologies."
She walked toward the playpen.
And as she lifted Dawn into her arms, the staff exchanged glances.
The cat, who hissed at everyone, allowed Ceres to carry her without a single scratch.
"I know a place you can stay while we wait for the right human to come into your life," Ceres whispered, gently cradling her. She turned to Mercy. "Please pack her toys. I'll need help loading them into my car."
Once everything was ready, Ceres drove straight toward Pawprints of Hope Animal Shelter.
Her phone rang just as she was waiting at a red light. She answered it via Bluetooth.
"No."
Zeus laughed on the other end. "Love, I haven't even said anything yet."
"Fine. What do you want?" Ceres replied, exasperated.
"I just got back from D.C. Thought we could have dinner later?"
"No."
Her quick rejection only made him laugh harder. He sounded like he expected it.
"Are you driving?" he asked a moment later, his tone casual.
"Yes. You're on Bluetooth," she replied.
"Where are you heading?"
"Pawprints of Hope Animal Shelter," she said plainly.
"And what exactly are you planning to do there?" Zeus asked.
Ceres rolled her eyes. "Don't you have a multibillion-dollar empire to run, Mr. Falcon? Or are you really wasting your time on small talk?"
"I own my time, love. I can do whatever I want with it. And for the record, talking to you is never a waste of my time. Even if you only say 'no' to everything. Though I'd rather hear you moan than answer with a yes or no. Would make for a better dream tonight."
"Crazy bastard," Ceres muttered, shaking her head, but her lips twitched with amusement. His chuckle on the other end was full and unbothered.
"But seriously," he said, finally calming. "What are you doing at the animal shelter? Adopting? Isn't your mom severely allergic to fur?"
"I'm not adopting," Ceres replied with a sigh. "I'm bringing Dawn there. Some tenants complained she's attacking their pets. I tried putting her up for adoption, but no one wants her."
"Is that the cat the Cortez couple left behind?" Zeus asked.
"Yes," she said tightly.
There was a pause on the line.
"Hey, why don't you adopt her?" she suggested, half-joking.
"I can't, love."
"Don't you like animals?" she asked, brow arching.
"I love them," Zeus said without missing a beat. "I had a golden retriever growing up. Had him all through high school. He passed away before college."
"Then why not take Dawn in?" Ceres asked, eyes flicking to the passenger seat where the cat sat quietly.
"Because love," Zeus began, his voice quieter now, "unlike people who understand why someone has to leave home to work, animals don't get it. When they grow attached, they wait, by the door, by the window, anywhere, wondering why the person they love left them behind. I'm the only one running the Falcon Empire now since I retired my parents. I wanted them to enjoy the world, to travel for pleasure, to live without stress. So yes, I'm busy as hell."
There was a pause, then he added with a soft laugh, "As much as I want a four-legged companion, I know I can't give them the time and presence they deserve. I can't just leave a black credit card next to their bowl and expect them to go shopping to fill the void. They need love. They need time. And I refuse to deny them the chance to belong to someone who can give them that."
Ceres didn't respond immediately. Something warm and uninvited stirred in her chest. She hated that it was Zeus of all people who could speak like this, who could say something that actually mattered.
But of course, she would never admit it. Not to him. Not even to herself.
"Thought you said you owned your time? Now you're suddenly 'too busy'? That's such a lame excuse, Mr. Falcon," she muttered with a smirk.
"And here I thought you weren't listening to a word I say." Zeus chuckled, the sound full of teasing affection. "Awww… pretending you don't like me again? Just leave that idiot Ryzel already. He doesn't deserve you. You deserve someone like me. I'm a hundred times better than that asshole."
"In your dreams, Zeus. Maybe in another world, another lifetime. Under a blue moon," Ceres said coolly.
Zeus laughed again, genuine and low. "You're so cruel to me, love."
"I am cruel. So suffer."
A long silence stretched between them, but neither hung up.
Then Zeus spoke again, voice thoughtful this time. "You know, love… since you want to put her up for adoption, why don't you change her name first? New name, new life. Maybe she's lashing out because every time someone calls her 'Dawn,' it brings back memories of those humans who abandoned her. And isn't that the cruelest kind of pain? Remembering you were once loved, only to be left behind? That kind of betrayal lingers. Even animals feel that."
"You think that's what she's feeling now?" Ceres asked.
"I know I would," Zeus replied. "Wouldn't you ask yourself that too?"
"No. Because I'm perfect. If anyone left me, it's clearly not my fault," Ceres said, arching a brow as if he could see it.
Zeus chuckled. "True. Can't argue with that. You are perfect, love."
"Tell me something I don't know," she said, and he laughed even louder.
"But seriously, what name should I give her?" she asked.
"What is she again?" he asked.
"All-black Persian," Ceres answered.
"Hmm… how about Midnight?"
"Sounds like a boy's name."
"Okay… Noir? That's gender-neutral."
"No. I don't want a name that emphasizes her being black."
"Why not?"
"Because those monsters who used to own her said she brought them bad luck because she's black," Ceres said, anger simmering in her voice.
"That's the dumbest excuse I've ever heard."
"I know. That's why I want her new name to be the opposite of that. I once rescued a black American shorthair. I named him Tofu."
Zeus went quiet.
"You named a black cat Tofu?" he asked, barely suppressing a laugh. "Because he's… soft?"
"No," Ceres replied firmly. "The kids at the orphanage were throwing stones at him. They said he was bad luck because he was black. So I gave him a name that made people think of white, Tofu. And when shortened it's Tuf. Because he was tough. He survived."
"Do you have other animals you've named?" Zeus asked, amusement dancing in his voice.
"Yes. I named two that I rescued myself," Ceres answered proudly.
"And their names?"
"Alpha and Bear," she said with a small smirk that she knew he could probably hear through the phone.
Zeus chuckled. "Let me guess… both dogs. Alpha's a Husky, and Bear's a pit bull?"
Ceres's jaw dropped. "Hey! How did you know that? Are you stalking me, mister?"
"I neither confirm nor deny," Zeus replied, laughter spilling through the line. "But you really do have the cutest way of naming, love."
"Stop laughing. And for your information, I think they liked the names I gave them," she huffed, though the smile on her lips betrayed her tone.
"Of course they did. Because they know you thought long and hard about it," Zeus said gently, catching her off guard with the sudden sincerity.
Ceres felt her cheeks warm and looked away instinctively, even though he couldn't see her. "Whatever. Just help me already. I'm almost at the shelter."
"Alright, alright. How about… Snow?" he suggested.
She wrinkled her nose. "I don't think she's a Snow. I want something regal. Loyal. Fierce."
There was a short pause. Then Zeus said, "How about Luna? Roman goddess of the moon, equivalent to Selene. And when you think about it, isn't the moon the strongest source of light during the night? Her light cuts through the dark… breaks the curse."
Ceres glanced at the black Persian curled quietly beside her, and for a moment, she saw how Luna's name suited her.
"Yeah," she murmured. "I think she's a Luna."
But her brow furrowed. "Wait… wasn't that goddess kind of a psychopath?"
Zeus laughed. "What? Why would you say that?"
"She's the one who begged Zeus to put her mortal lover to eternal sleep so she could visit and admire him every night without him aging or dying. That's not devotion, that's obsession. Straight up psychopathy."
Zeus chuckled. "Love… I don't think there's a single god or goddess in mythology who isn't a psychopath."
"You're wrong," Ceres shot back. "There is one."
"Who?" he challenged.
"Who else? The goddess I was named after, Ceres."
Zeus was silent for a beat.
"Alright. Name one bad thing she did." Ceres dared.
"She created the four seasons," he offered, teasing. "Because of her, we have cold-ass autumn."
"That's not even bad," Ceres scoffed. "She did that because Hades kidnapped her daughter. Come on. Admit it. You've got nothing."
Zeus chuckled again. "Okay, okay. I admit defeat. You're right, love. And even if you weren't, you'd still be right for me. Even if you told me the Earth is flat, I'd believe you. Always."
"Good. You should," Ceres replied smugly. "Anyway, I have to end the call now."
"Are you at the shelter already?"
"Yes. Just parking."
"Alright, then… how about that dinner?"
"No."
"Ouch. And here I was hoping you'd change your mind after I said you're always right," Zeus groaned.
"In your dreams, Mr. Falcon. Seriously, I have to go."
"Okay. Bye, love. Bye, Luna," Zeus said, his voice dipping with something softer.
"Goodbye, Mr. Falcon," Ceres murmured, then ended the call.
Ceres carried Luna gently in her arms and headed straight into the shelter. As she entered, Jenny came to greet her with a warm but curious expression.
"Miss Ceres, is this Dawn?" Jenny asked, recalling the cat Ceres once told them about.
"Yes," Ceres nodded. "But I've changed her name. It's Luna now. Hopefully, a new name means a new life."
Jenny smiled and reached out to take Luna, but the cat hissed sharply and swiped at her, a single claw grazing Jenny's arm.
"Oh no, Miss Jenny, I'm so sorry!" Ceres said, alarmed.
"It's okay," Jenny reassured her, shaking her head. "It's understandable. She was abandoned by her humans. Maybe she doesn't trust anyone anymore, except you."
"I wish it were just that," Ceres replied with a sigh. "But according to my staff, she's been picking fights with the other cats. She used to be so sociable... and now, no one can even get near her."
Jenny frowned thoughtfully. "How about we try placing her in the playpen with the other rescues here? Maybe the reason she's hostile in the petcare is that those cats still carry the scent of their owners. It might be jealousy. They have someone. She doesn't."
"You think it's loneliness?" Ceres asked softly.
"It's possible," Jenny said gently. "Maybe here, among cats who are also searching for someone to love them, she'll find one she connects with."
"Let's try," Ceres agreed. "And if she gets along with any of them, maybe you can house them together in a shared pen? Give her a familiar presence."
The two women walked together toward the play area, where dozens of cats lounged, napped, or played.
The shelter was home to nearly a hundred rescued cats and more than a hundred dogs, all spayed, neutered, and vaccinated. It thrived largely due to Ceres's generous sponsorship. Without her support, the shelter might not have lasted, and certainly wouldn't have had the resources to keep rescuing abandoned and abused animals.
Because of her connections, adoptions, even from out-of-state or international homes, came with solid character checks, ensuring these animals wouldn't be hurt again.
Ceres gently placed Luna inside the playpen, choosing a spot by the door where she'd be visible but also easily retrieved if needed.
"It's okay, kitten," she whispered. "You don't have to play with them. I'll stay right outside, I promise."
As expected, a few curious cats approached Luna, only to be met with sharp hisses. The bolder ones hissed back. Ceres chewed her lip, tension rising.
Then, suddenly, the other cats scattered like leaves in the wind.
"Oh no… the troublemaker is here," said April, a longtime staffer who had joined them to observe.
Everyone turned toward the new arrival.
Strolling through the crowd like a panther parting his jungle, Tofu appeared.
He was a black American shorthair with obsidian eyes and a swagger that belonged to a feline king. He walked calmly through the playpen, the other cats making way as if by instinct, heading straight toward Luna.
She didn't retreat.
Their eyes locked.
Tofu circled her once, like a silent predator measuring his prey, or a monarch considering his equal.
Everyone watching from behind the screen door held their breath.
Then… Tofu sniffed her.
No hiss came from Luna.
A moment passed. And then Tofu leaned forward, and licked her gently between the ears.
Ceres let out a soft gasp. "Awww…"
Even Luna didn't pull away.
"I think she'll be fine here," Ceres said softly, a warm smile touching her lips as she watched them. "At least… until someone adopts her."
"I think they're soulmates," Edward teased from behind them, earning a synchronized eye roll from the women in the shelter.
"Tofu is a moron," Pixie sobbed between sniffling breaths, her voice muffled as she held her sister Luna tightly in the middle of the wide bed.
Luna's silent tears wouldn't stop, and Pixie, despite being just a child, kept trying to wipe them away with her small hands, even as her own cheeks were wet.
"Don't cry now," she whispered, hugging Luna even tighter. "Papa will punish him. I'll tell Papa to hang him upside down and swing him up and down from Papa's chamber… until he cries too."
Her words were laced with childish vengeance, but her little heart was clearly breaking just as much as her sister's.