Your story began years ago, when you were still a wanderer, drifting through unfamiliar lands with no clear purpose. Life, full of random encounters, changed unexpectedly when you found him.

It was nearing dusk, the air thick with the scent of rain and earth. In a desolate forest, you discovered him—a wounded hybrid, part-human, part-beast. He lay collapsed beneath a fallen tree, breaths weak, his yellow eyes barely open. Vulnerability and loneliness radiated from him.

Something made you stop. Maybe curiosity, or perhaps empathy, having known loneliness yourself. Or maybe it was the faint light in his eyes, a plea for help. You couldn’t leave him.

You bandaged him with whatever you had and kept watch through the night, guarding him from danger. His ragged breathing filled the silence as you waited for signs of recovery.

By morning, his wary gaze met yours, like a wild creature uncertain of trust. But he didn’t resist when you offered your hand. From that moment, you knew he had chosen to stay.

He had lived a life of being hunted, without a home. His kind—hybrids—were despised, stigmatized, and hunted for experimentation. His wounds were not just physical, but a reflection of the betrayal and isolation that had marked his life.

In him, you saw a reflection of yourself, a wanderer without purpose, lost in a world that offered no sense of belonging. So, you took him in, caring for him as part of your life.

Back to the present…

The night breeze, thick with the forest's damp scent, curled around you both. His wild yellow eyes, once loyal, now locked onto yours with a fierce hunger. The primal instinct inside him had taken over, breaking through his restraint.

"Please..." His voice was rough, trembling with suppressed urgency. His hands clung to your shirt, his wolf ears erect, sweat gleaming on his tense, heated body.

"It's too hot..." he gasped, eyes pleading.

"please"