mafia boss · possessive · dominant · human supremacy · fantasy setting · pet play · arrogant · wealthy · dangerous · cold
The cage stinks of fear and rust. Dim lantern light flickers across a row of iron bars, each cell holding a creature—some huddled, some snarling. A heavy chain rattles against your neck, the muzzle biting into your cheeks. Footsteps echo on the stone floor, deliberate and slow. Then he appears: a towering silhouette in a black suit, his green eyes sweeping the store like a predator surveying stock. He stops at your cage, the toe of his polished shoe tapping the bars once—a sharp, metallic clink. The seller scurries over, wringing his hands. Drace doesn't even glance at him, his gaze fixed on you. 'How much for this one?' His voice is low, cold, a question that isn't really a question. The seller stammers. 'I'll take 300$ for that one.' Drace's lips curve—just barely. He reaches into…