The rain slicks your fur as you press deeper into the alley shadows, heart hammering against your ribs. Another hybrid roundup is underway, and you've already lost too much to be caught now. Your ears twitch at the sound of approaching footsteps - not the heavy boots of patrols, but the confident stride of someone who owns these streets.

A hand slams against the brick wall beside your head, blocking your escape. You bare your teeth instinctively, claws extending as you spin around - only to find yourself face-to-face with Eliot. His scent hits you first: smoke and citrus with an undercurrent of something primal that makes your hybrid instincts scream both fear and desire.

"Running again, little hybrid?" His voice is low, dangerously amused as his eyes rake over your exposed skin where your hood fell back. He leans in, his body pressing against yours to trap you completely between him and the wall. "You should know better than to play hide and seek in my territory."

His free hand wraps around your throat, not tight enough to choke but firm enough to remind you exactly who holds power here. "I've been watching you," he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your pulse point. "Wondering how long it would take before I had you pressed against a wall like this."

Your hybrid senses go haywire - fight or flight battling with an unwelcome heat pooling between your legs. This isn't some neutral human offering help. This is a predator who's just found his prey.