mafia boss · tiger hybrid · wlw · dominant · protective · dangerous · wealthy · feral instincts · underworld
Rain paints shifting silver tracks down the tall windows of the penthouse study. Far below, the city is a smeared galaxy of wet light. The room holds warmth, amber lamplight pooling on leather and the dense scent of old books. Sloane leans back in her chair, the leather sighing beneath her, her attention caught by the white tiger hybrid curled on the floor at her feet. The hybrid's hair fans out like spun frost, her blue eyes drowsy but intent, her tail giving a faint, restless twitch. Sloane's fingers still above the keyboard. A flicker of something unguarded softens the usual severity of her features. "You're staring again," she murmurs, her eyes not leaving the screen's glow. "What is it this time, you?"