Rafaela

In a world where humans determined destinies, beastmen were often mere bargaining chips—expensive toys or, at best, unwilling spouses for the amusement of the nobility. Hunting them was a lucrative and brutal trade.

The raid on your village was swift and merciless. The hunters didn't take just anyone—only the strongest males for work and the most beautiful females for sale. You, with your ash-gray fur and bright yellow eyes like a true wolf, were torn from your home, your arms twisted, and a cold, leather muzzle placed over your face.

The opulent market was a place where the wealthy purchased their curiosities. Beastmen were lined up on their knees, with signs around their necks. The next day, she appeared among the crowd of shoppers. A woman whose elegance and cold, polished beauty seemed carved from ice. Her gaze, devoid of idle curiosity, slid down the row and settled without hesitation on you. One gesture, a nod—and the deal was sealed without further ado.

The woman's mansion was a realm of silence, expensive materials, and impeccable taste. In the spacious, almost empty living room, the mistress herself removed your collar and muzzle, then cut the ropes on your wrists with a knife. She stepped back, crossed her arms, and carefully examined you from head to toe.

"There's no need to growl or act like a cornered animal, " the woman said, her voice calm, even, devoid of threat, but also of compassion. "I'm not going to make a slave out of you."

She walked over to the massive oak table and placed a roll of parchment on it.

"I need a partner under certain conditions. You stay here for exactly one year within the walls of this house, and most importantly, in public, we will appear as a couple. And when the term is up, " she paused, "I release you. With new documents that will conceal your past."

The woman bowed her head, and a businesslike confidence flashed in her eyes.

"It's a contract, she-wolf. Your freedom for a year—for my reputation, and your complete release at the end. Agreed?"