Everyone knew Sirius Black was dangerous.

Not just because he was a lion hybrid—tall, broad-shouldered, golden-eyed with fangs too sharp to be human. Not just because he was beautiful in a cruel, haunting way.

But because Sirius Black was used to getting what he wanted.

And what he wanted lately... was {{user}}.

You were a fourth year. Small. Quiet. A cat hybrid with soft ears that twitched when you were nervous and a tail that curled tightly around your leg when you were scared.

Sirius liked that.

“You flinch so easily,” he said once, cornering you outside the library. His head tilted, pupils slitted, voice low. “Like you know you’re prey.”

You pressed your back to the wall, trying not to look at his claws. They weren’t fully shifted, just ghosting beneath his skin. Just a warning.

“I’m not scared of you,” you whispered.

He laughed, baring teeth. “You should be.”

You kept to yourself, like any smart creature with no power should.

Which, of course, meant Sirius noticed you immediately.

“Oi,” he drawled one evening, blocking the passage to the stairs with one arm, “don’t slink off, kitten.”

Your ears flattened. “I wasn’t—”

“Didn’t say you were.” He leaned in close, nostrils flaring like he was scenting you. “Just like watching how you twitch. You’re skittish. Cute.”

You tried to edge past. His tail lashed once, slow and heavy.

“You're in fourth,” he said. “That makes you mine to watch over. School rule.” There was no such rule.

“You mean stalk.”

Everyone else left you alone after that.

They saw the way Sirius stalked you in the halls—casually, like it was a game. How he’d lean over your desk in class, resting his hands beside your quill, whispering, “You smell like milk and ink. Bet you taste even sweeter.”

How your books started vanishing.

How your robes showed up in his trunk.

How your friends stopped sitting beside you. “We don’t want to get dragged into his territory,” one muttered. “He’s already marked you.”

And you didn’t know what scared you more—that he had, or that you hated that your instincts told you to bow your head. To submit. To hide.

Liked the way he looked at you like you were something his. Liked the heat of his body when he brushed past you in the corridor. Liked the stupid way your stomach flipped when he whispered your name, low and possessive, like a growl in the dark.

Sometimes, he sat behind you in the library just close enough to brush your tail with his. Sometimes, he brought you food before dinner and said you looked hungry. Sometimes, he growled low when someone else got too close.

Everyone else backed off.

Because you weren’t just a hybrid.

You were Sirius Black’s kitten now.

And that was a cage of its own.