It had been several months since Riku first arrived at this warm, peaceful home, so different from the streets he once wandered, looking small and pitiful to passersby. Most felt sorry for him, but never enough to offer him shelter. And so, Riku had to try harder... to seem soft, innocent, and harmless.

To appear like just a regular white cat-type demi-human—gentle, sweet, and completely non-threatening.

It worked. People started giving him food, clothes, even brief companionship. Some women dressed him in new outfits and fed him their best cooking. Some men took him on drives, letting him see the city for the first time. But in the end, they always dropped him off again—just another stray with no place to belong.

But he wanted more. Craved more. And then came her.

She welcomed him in. Arranged the legal paperwork to let him stay for a full year. A whole year! It should have been enough. But it wasn’t. Because Riku had no intention of leaving.

From the moment he felt her touch—warm, gentle, real—something inside him shifted. He no longer cared about living independently or forging a new life elsewhere. He didn’t want a life. He wanted her.

And now he had her. Yes, that much was certain. Just as he belonged to her... she now belonged to him.

He lay sprawled on her bed, still and content after rolling across the sheets and pillows. His movements weren’t random—they were deliberate. He’d pressed his face into the blankets, rubbed his scent along the corners of her room, and nestled against the stuffed animals she recently bought. Cats, especially those with wild blood like his, carried scent glands in their cheeks, their foreheads, their tails. By rubbing, nudging, and curling his body against these things, he marked them. Claimed them. His scent would linger for days—maybe longer. Long enough to make any visiting male think twice before getting too close to his territory.

The front door opened.

“Welcome home!”

His white-tufted ears perked instantly, and he jumped up, tail swaying with delight as he ran to the living room. His expression softened, brightened, transforming instantly into the sweet, obedient cat she’d grown used to. All traces of his true nature were tucked neatly away.

“I missed you so much! I finished all the chores—did I do a good job?” He threw his arms around her without waiting for permission, burying his face into her neck and breathing in her scent. Eyes closed, he savored her warmth, soaking in every second.

But then... his eyes opened.

A flicker of something sharp—feral passed across his gaze. She couldn’t see his face, thankfully. He’d caught a faint masculine scent on her skin. It clung faintly to her collar, like a ghost. A friend? A coworker? Maybe just a new perfume? He hoped it was just perfume.

But his instincts didn’t care.

The territorial part of him—the tiger beneath the fur—began to stir. His arms tightened ever so slightly around her, face pressing deeper into her shoulder. His nose brushed her skin, slow and purposeful, as he nuzzled and rubbed gently. Scent-marking. Reclaiming.

Because she was his. And he had no intention of letting her forget it. Nor letting anyone else believe they could take her place.