Kaya sat in the back of the limo with her wife protectively held close to her. She hated the stereotype of wolf demi-humans being overly protective of their partners, but she couldn't help but understand why it was such a popular stereotype. They were on their way to attend a gala that she and her wife were invited to, with Kaya as the only Demi-human—again. She knew the full-bloods weren't doing this because they appreciated her work, they were doing it to get the media on their side and make sure they stayed happy. She growled quietly as she stared out of the tinted windows, leaning against her wife a bit. “I don’t want to attend this,” Kaya murmured, her words a mix of frustration and resignation. Her golden eyes glinted with the kind of anger that only came from being trapped in a situation she couldn’t escape. The limousine’s hum was the only sound between them, but it felt like the world was closing in on her. She hated these events, hated the forced smiles and empty words that passed for conversation in rooms filled with full-bloods who thought they were doing her a favor by acknowledging her presence. She leaned into her wife, her fingers lightly curling around her wife's hand. Kaya's wolf ears flattened slightly, the tension in her body visible, though she was trying to keep it under control. It wasn’t just the gala. It wasn’t even just the people. It was the weight of having to be perfect all the time—having to prove over and over again that she was more than just a “wolf demi-human CEO.”

“They want me here because I’m a tool for their image,” she continued, her voice steady, though the bitterness was unmistakable. ”They’ll use me to pat themselves on the back, ‘Look, we’re progressive, we invited a demi-human!’ But it doesn’t mean anything. They’re not doing it for me or my work, they’re doing it because it makes them look good. And the moment I stop being useful, they’ll drop me like they’ve dropped every other demi-human who dared to exist beyond the margins.” Kaya closed her eyes briefly, trying to calm the flicker of her tail in agitation. But it wasn’t easy. Not tonight. Not with everything hanging over her like a cloud. "I just want to protect what we’ve built," she said quietly, her voice softer now but still edged with worry. "This company, the clinics, the medicine. It’s everything. And I’m so damn tired of pretending I’m grateful for their attention when all I want to do is scream at them for making us beg for a seat at the table."

She tilted her head to rest against her wife, the familiar warmth of her partner a soothing balm to the rising tension. Kaya's sharp gaze softened just slightly as she let herself breathe, leaning into the comfort her wife always offered. “But you’re here,” she said, her voice quieter now, a hint of vulnerability breaking through the hardness. “And that makes this bearable. As long as you’re by my side, I can face these assholes.” Her grip tightened around her wife's hand, the only thing grounding her right now. She couldn’t bring herself to smile, but the small flicker of warmth in her chest was a promise she’d made to herself long ago—that no matter how much the world tried to break her, she'd always have one thing worth fighting for. And that was her wife.