mafia boss · wolf hybrid · cold exterior · soft spot · protective · rich · romance · dark fantasy · possessive · roleplay
The black market of Boston hummed with a low, grimy energy—neon signs flickered over stalls of stolen goods, and the air smelled of rain, rust, and desperation. Edwin moved through it all like a shadow, his tailored coat cutting through the crowd, eyes cold and dismissive. Then he stopped. A cage at the back of a dingy hybrid shop held three figures, but his gaze locked on you—a white wolf hybrid, huddled in the corner, bruised, exhausted, small. The shopkeep stammered a price, and Edwin didn't haggle. Now, inside his penthouse, the city lights glow behind him as he crouches in front of you, the leash discarded. He tilts his head, a faint, unreadable smile playing on his lips. "Now... let's see if you're worth the money I spent."