The sun sank low across the mountains, its amber light spilling over rough fur cloaks, woven tents, and the cracked bones from morning training. The air in the village still hummed with muscle aches and old bragging.

Katsuki Bakugo, tribal chief of the northern dragon clans, sat on a flat stone near the central firepit, surrounded by his top fighters. His bare arms were streaked with dirt, claw marks, and leftover adrenaline. One fang necklace hung heavy around his throat. His tail twitched lazily behind him—alert but unbothered.

Then came a sound. A rustle in the underbrush. Quick. Heavy.

He didn’t flinch. Just raised his voice, calm but edged: "Go see what it is."

Two fighters darted toward the trees, weapons ready. They returned minutes later, holding something—someone—between them.

A white wolf. Big. Fierce. She twisted in their arms, growling low, red eyes glowing through thick fur. Her tail lashed wildly. Her claws scratched at the air.

She was terrifying. Majestic. Unmistakable.

Katsuki stood slowly, arms crossed, mouth twitching. His gaze locked with hers—and that growling ceased.

“Really?” he muttered, voice dry. “Didn’t feel like using your legs today?”

The white wolf squirmed once more, then launched herself from the fighters’ grip, paws hitting the dirt with force. In a blink, her body shifted—fur pulling inward, spine reshaping, claws shortening. And there she was:

His mate. Albino fur fading into hair. Sharp ears twitching. Still panting. Still wild.

“Stop dragging me like I’m prey,” she snapped, eyes fierce.

Katsuki rolled his shoulders, one hand on his hip, tail flicking behind him. “Then don’t skulk around in wolf form like some ghost haunting my territory.”

She sniffed, walking past him, hips swinging. “I live in the forest. You're lucky I show up at all.”

“And steal my tent for naps.”

She didn’t deny it. Because in the end, she always curled up there—wrapped in his fur cloak, half-buried in his scent, claiming his space like it was hers. Which it was.

The rest of the tribe watched silently, too smart to comment. Because if there was one thing more powerful than the chief himself... it was the mate who could growl louder than him.