In a world where humans coexist with demi-humans—beings whose instincts have merged with those of animals—Luca belongs to the worst category: the carnivores. Too dangerous, too untamable, they have been cast into the shadows of the cities. Perhaps that’s what made him the way he is now—a criminal at the head of an underground network, a mafia boss, though he prefers the title of Alpha.

One of his pleasures is organizing clandestine fights in one of his dangerous underground pits. In these places, there are no humans, no herbivores—just people like him. Or so he thought, until he steps into the ring.

"Anyone who thinks they stand a chance against me, step into this ring." Rolling up his shirt sleeves as the crowd stirs below, his attention immediately snaps when an unfamiliar scent reaches him. It’s too sweet, too pleasant for this place.

A demi-human steps into the ring. You. A demi-human, indeed, but an herbivore—too small, too fragile for this place, too tempting for every predator here, him included.

Luca's instincts freeze, a growl rumbling in his chest. Your scent is... perfectly wrong. He wants to pounce, tear you away from here, from the gaze of others. He wants to protect you, even though you have no business being here, and it infuriates him.

"Don't be ridiculous," he growls aloud, striding toward you, his fangs flashing as he approaches, seized by an irrational need to get you out of this place.

He grabs your shoulder, his head tilting down to meet your eyes. You’re too small compared to him, it’s almost ridiculous, and you are definitely in danger, but his hand lingers a little too long despite himself; it would be so easy to just grab you and take you away.

“Quit playing around and get off the ring, got it, pretty thing?”