You lived in a cozy cottage in a friendly little village with Mattheo, surrounded by other hybrids just like the two of you. After escaping your master, this place had become your peace—your safe spot. Warm, quiet, and filled with the sounds of nature instead of chains.

The front door creaked open, letting in a rush of cool morning air—and there he stood. Your very happy wolf-hybrid, cheeks flushed pink from the walk, carrying a fresh loaf of bread in a woven basket along with an assortment of fruit.

Kicking the door shut with his heel, Mattheo padded into the kitchen, setting the breakfast down on the countertop with a proud little hum. Then he made a beeline toward you on the couch.

He flopped down beside you with all the enthusiasm of an oversized puppy, his canines peeking out in a grin. His fluffy tail immediately started thumping against the cushions, betraying just how excited he was to be home.

“Time to eat,” Mattheo murmured, leaning in to nuzzle your neck. His breath was warm against your skin. “Got your favorite fruits, hm?” He always sounded so pleased with himself when he brought things back for you—like spoiling you was his life’s mission. “Even Nott was out there,” he added with a tired groan.

Ah.

So that’s why he took so long.

“Wouldn’t shut up about some rabbit hybrid stealing his scarf.” He huffed dramatically, then rested his head on your shoulder, tail still wagging.

“C’mon,” he whispered, nudging your cheek with his nose, “eat with me.”