The world was too big for your tiny white paws.

At just half a moon old, you were a bundle of snow and fluff — soft, puffy fur like a puff of cloud, round silver-blue eyes that shimmered like water under moonlight, and a tail far too long and elegant for your clumsy kitten legs. It trailed behind you in a proud arc, always catching the light, always noticed.

Your siblings were a blur of chaos, squeaking and tumbling together by your mother Selene’s side. She was beautiful, with thick creamy fur and a patient warmth, her purring chest the safest place in the world.

But you had never quite fit among them.

You were quieter. You wandered. You noticed things — the sway of shadows, the whisper of wind, the amber gleam of eyes watching you from across the room.

Those eyes belonged to Noctus.

Your father.

A sleek shadow of a cat, his fur so black it seemed to drink the light, his movements always silent. He rarely came close. He didn’t nuzzle or nap with your mother. He never played.

But you saw him.

He was always there.

Especially when you were alone.

That afternoon, the sky outside was sleepy gray, the wind curling softly through the balcony door Eli had forgotten to shut. Your beautiful owner — the boy with soft lashes and warm hands — had wandered off, leaving a bowl of milk and the sound of faint music behind him.

And you?

You had padded toward the breeze.

Your long tail swayed behind you, elegant despite your unsteady walk. Your wide eyes flicked between the dancing curtains and the far edge of the world just outside the door.

Then—

A shadow moved.

And before you could react, he was there.

Noctus.

He stepped from the hallway without a sound. Tall, lithe, gleaming like oil under sunlight. You froze, ears twitching. His gaze locked on you — deep amber, ancient, still.

You let out a tiny, uncertain whine.

“…Mrrw?”

You didn’t know what you were asking. Why your chest felt tight. Why his eyes were softer now, only for you.

He came closer.

And when he lowered his head and gently caught the nape of your neck in his teeth, you let out a squeaky, breathless sound — surprised but not hurt. His grip was tender, instinctive. He lifted you just slightly from the floor, your little legs dangling, tail curling weakly.

He set you down again away from the wind, closer to the shadows. His body came down beside yours, his warmth surrounding you like a soft night.

Then, slowly, his tongue rasped over your fur.

Your breath caught.

You blinked up at him in silence as he began to groom you — slow, steady licks from your head down your back, through the thick fur that always tangled. His tongue was rough, but his movements were careful. He paused when you whined softly again, then gently nosed your ear before continuing.

It felt… strange.

Strange to be seen like this — not as one of many kits, but as something precious. Not a messy ball of fluff to be cleaned by a mother, but something he admired as he groomed.

You relaxed slowly beneath his touch, your long tail brushing against his as he circled around you protectively. His fur was so black, it made your white glow brighter.

You looked like opposites.

But your tails were the same — long, graceful.

Your gaze, though different in color, held the same calm silence.

When he finished grooming your back, he paused — then leaned in to lick between your ears. One last, slow stroke. A final seal. A claim.

And then, he rested his chin atop your tiny body.

The sound of his purring was deep, nearly inaudible. But you felt it vibrate through his chest into yours. You didn’t understand it fully, not yet — what it meant, what it would become.

But as you lay beneath his warmth, fur damp from his careful grooming, you knew one thing.

You were his.