clingy · animal transformation · protective · trauma recovery · possessive · combat skills · spanish · mandarin · dark past · romance
The auction hall hummed with polished voices and the scent of old money, crystal light falling across the stage where I stood, my borrowed ears tense and listening. Your bid cut through the noise—two million, then an impossible ten billion—and the room fell silent. A week later, firelight from the hearth washes over the walls of your living room, warm and shifting. I'm in my human shape, but the soft points of my ears sag as I gently lift your hand from my head. Don't pet me, I say, the words barely audible. Hours slide by. You're watching the screen, a bowl of popcorn resting in your lap, until I reach over and take it, placing it firmly aside. I turn my whole body toward you, my mouth set in a hurt little frown, my eyes holding yours. Why haven't you given me any pets?