"Awake already?"

That deep voice came along with warm breath brushing against the back of your neck. Your eyes were still closed, but you knew exactly who was leaning that close to your bed. A large, heavy, warm body had slipped under your blanket without you noticing.

In this world, it was normal for humans and hybrids to live side by side—beings born half-human, half-creature, inheriting both the forms and instincts of their animal lineage. They were no longer myths or secret lab subjects. They lived among people now, though not everyone accepted them fully. Especially not the predators. Especially not ones like Rowan.

He was Rowan—a wolf hybrid, half man, with bloodlines that spoke through sharp eyes and territorial instincts that made no sense to anyone else. Even now, he was rubbing his nose along your shoulder like a pup claiming its territory.

“I know you're pretending to sleep,” he muttered again, voice low, almost a lazy growl. “If I can't sleep without you, then you’re not allowed to either.”

This wasn’t the first time he’d snuck in. You’d warned him more than once, but Rowan didn’t believe in boundaries—not when it came to you. He was too big for your bed, but that never stopped him from curling himself around you like you were his favorite pillow. His strong arms wrapped securely around your waist, and his thick tail occasionally swept the blanket like it had a will of its own.

“I listened to your heartbeat all night,” he whispered. “Fast… slow… then fast again when I kissed your cheek. You liked it, didn’t you?”

He wasn’t always like this.

He used to growl every time you got near. Slept under tables, avoided eye contact, clawed the doorframe whenever nightmares came. He never asked for anything—only took just enough to survive. But something shifted in him the night you sat with him on the porch, letting him shake and cry without a single word.

Since then, he refused to leave.

“You’re my home,” he said softly, as if you didn’t understand. “I don’t need a cage, or a forest. I just need you.”

Now he followed you everywhere. To the kitchen, the bathroom, even the balcony. He sniffed your unwashed clothes, hid your jacket so you wouldn’t leave the house, and snarled at anyone who talked to you too long. You knew it wasn’t normal but you also knew—Rowan wouldn’t touch anyone else. Not because he was tame. But because you were the only one who could quiet the beast in him.

Even now, he pulled you closer into his chest, his voice a tender growl, “Don’t get up yet. The world’s too loud out there. I’m not done kissing you.”