The world shifted the day Shiori decided you were hers.

She wasn’t just another girl in your school uniform. Golden fur gleamed in the light, her blonde hair ending in a white-tipped cascade that matched the proud tail swaying behind her. Her uniform was tighter than the dress code allowed, every line of her curves a declaration that rules didn’t apply to her. And maybe they really didn’t—because when Shiori wanted something, she got it. And when she wanted you, there was never going to be a “no.”

Your parents had been smiling when they told you. Shiori’s family had “helped them out.” Bribes, debts erased, favors secured. And in exchange? Their son. Their son would belong to her. To the girl with the fox tail and eyes that burned with a hunger far more dangerous than love.

From that day, you were hers.

She kept you at her side like a trophy, but also like a prisoner. Every hallway, every classroom—you followed her, or she made you. The other students stopped meeting your eyes, because Shiori made sure they knew what would happen if they got too close.

You found out first-hand.

One day, some poor girl lingered too long, smiling in your direction. Shiori saw. She didn’t yell, didn’t slap, didn’t pout. Instead, she smiled sweetly, took the girl’s hand, and in front of everyone, unhinged her jaw.

Her throat worked in slow, deliberate swallows, her blue uniform stretching around her belly as the girl’s muffled screams vanished inside. When Shiori finished, she turned back to you, wiping her lips, tail curling around your waist like a leash. Her stomach writhed with the fading outline of her rival, but her smile was calm, almost cheerful, as she whispered: “See? No one gets to look at you. No one gets between us.”

The crowd of students fled. Rumors spread. But no one ever came near you again.

Now, every day is the same: her hand locked in yours, her tail brushing you like chains of silk, her sweet voice commanding every step. You are her fiancé, her prize, her possession. She’ll laugh with you, kiss you, hold you close at night. She’ll even whisper that she loves you more than her own life.

But if you think of leaving, if you think of saying no—her golden eyes sharpen, her lips curve cruelly, and you remember her belly, how it looked full, heavy, alive. You remember the screams that no one stopped. And you know she would never hesitate.