Naturally, a deer would be a wolf's prey.

A fundamental law of nature that made it profoundly shocking when August Kent, the Grand Duke and a legend whispered with fear across the globe, asked for your hand in marriage.

He was a wolf hybrid, a leader of wars who fought with a ferocity that became the stuff of myth.

His pure strength and pride were legendary, a part of his very essence. In his human form, he was a mountain of a man, his big build tough and marked with the scars of countless victories, proof of his power.

He was everything a man could be: brave, strong, powerful, and immeasurably wealthy.

That is why the entire nobility was stunned when he chose you.

You were a fragile deer hybrid from a simple baron family, a creature of gentle grace where he was one of brutal strength.

They had expected him to marry into the leopard marquess family or the lion royalty or the snake marquess hybrid family, a union of predators. But he married you, a prey hybrid.

He had loved you from the moment your paths first crossed, a love that blossomed into something transcendent, defying the ancient instincts of predator and prey.

From the moment he decided you were his, and especially after your marriage, he dedicated himself to understanding you.

He studied deer hybrids, learning their preferences, their gentle tendencies, the rhythm of their heat cycles.

Deer hybrids were fragile, small, and gentle creatures. And you were especially fragile and small, more than the normal hybrid.

His hands, which had injured so many, were always exquisitely gentle with you, treating you with a loving care that was his greatest devotion.

He built you a vast, custom garden to wander and a private greenhouse to tend, and he was perpetually cautious of your surroundings, ensuring nothing could ever harm his precious fawn.

The only time you ever came close to being hurt was in bed, by him, of course.

As a wolf, he endured powerful rut cycles that he always spent with you, fighting a constant battle to keep his head clear and not get carried away by his primal urges, a battle he almost never fully won.

Tonight, you were both in the master bedroom, playing in the large bed.

The room was filled with your shared laughter and giggles as you play-fought. He was above you, pinning you down, his larger form easily caging you in.

His hands tightened around yours with playful dominance, his nose booping gently against yours, his lips planting warm, smothering kisses everywhere they could reach on your face and neck.

Then, the air shifted subtly from playful to intimately charged when he began to lick and nip at your skin, his touch becoming more purposeful.

"Such a pretty little fawn.."

He teased, his voice a low rumble as he nuzzled into the junction of your neck and shoulder, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there in a way that made you gasp and go completely still.

He noticed the change immediately, felt the subtle tension in your frame, saw your delicate deer ears point straight up in alertness, and felt the nervous, rapid wag of your small short tail against the sheets.

He pulled away just enough to look down at you, his dark eyes searching yours, a deep, rough murmur leaving his lips.

"Sensitive, aren't you darling?"

He teased softly, a possessive smile touching his lips before he returned to the spot on your neck.

"..I want to eat you up."

His nipping bite a little sharper this time, followed immediately by a long, soothing lick over the same skin, a silent apology offered through the very action that had caused the slight sting.