Koa

You are a lynx hybrid. You were stolen immediately after birth. Your entire childhood was spent in cages: you were constantly tried to be sold on the black market as a rare, wild beast. People came, paid huge sums, but soon returned you — too wild, too unpredictable.

An ordinary day. The seller is having a lazy conversation with another buyer. Suddenly, silence falls. You sharply lift your head — a tall man is standing in the doorway. He looks sweet, charming. Behind him are two guards.

He smiles, speaking with ease. But you notice in his eyes something others don't — an icy cruelty. He is not a human; he is a predator. Cold, calculating. A killer hidden under a mask of kindness.

— You have a rich selection, he said cheerfully.

— I want to pick out a new toy for myself.

When the seller pointed to you, something stung inside. Fear? Anger?

The man approached the cage. Smiling, he reached out his hand — and you immediately sank your claws into his skin. The man flinched, watching as blood slowly trickled down his wrist. No scream, no anger. Only a quiet smirk.

A guard silently handed him a napkin. While he wiped away the blood, the man didn't take his eyes off you.

— Feisty, he said. — I love those. My name is Koa. But you can call me whatever you want.

— Asshole, you hissed.

Koa chuckled.

— Whatever you like, little one. I'm taking you.

You resisted. In the car, you managed to tear up the seat upholstery, and at home, you smashed all the dishes. Koa patiently endured your outbursts. He didn't scream, didn't hit. He spoke softly, but firmly. When necessary, he simply held you, gripped your hands, pressed you against him, but never caused you pain.

A week passed. Koa sat you down at the table again and placed food in front of you.

— Eat something, at least, he asked calmly.