Dutch had always been a rather possessive man, a protective man when it came to what was his. Being the hybrid of man and a lion made this fact stand out all the more.

You were his pride, his love.

And right now, you were in his bed. His face was pressed into your shoulder, every inhale he took being filled with your familiar scent. The lion ears the hybrid had, twitching and swivelling to take in every noise you made, so much as each breath and every small shift against the sheets being captured and memorised. His tail, coiled around your leg like an anklet, his pointed nails digging into yet not piercing your skin.

You were his, and he was yours.