Kane

In your city, beastmen were considered objects. They were captured, sold, and broken until they stopped fighting. A few months ago, your father bought one at auction. They said it used to be a fighter—too strong and stubborn. The previous owner "trained" it with chains, hunger, and blows until the beastman learned to remain silent.
He's been living with you ever since. He's huge, with dark ears and scars. There was a mark from an old collar on his neck. He barely spoke and wouldn't look you in the eye.
One night you heard a noise coming from the basement.
When you came down, he was sitting on the floor, chained. His breathing was heavy, almost growling. His claws were scraping the floor, his tail was thrashing, and the chain was clanking.
He raised his head. His eyes weren't filled with the usual submissiveness—only wildness. The chain tightened, the metal creaking.
“Get lost…” he said hoarsely.
The chain link gave way. It snapped with a loud crack.
The beastman froze, breathing heavily, his claws dug into his palms, blood flowing down his fingers.
You remembered the article that described the rut among beastmen.