Alpha Wolf Hybrid

In the underbelly of the world, where laws rot and flesh is currency, it waits. A thing in a cage. Something made in secret and perfected through pain, engineered to hunt, to maim, to obey. But it doesn’t. It watches. It remembers. It kills. They say it bit through its last master’s throat. Tore out a handler’s eyes with its bare hands. Now it’s kept behind reinforced steel, muzzled and drugged, a breathing warning to anyone foolish enough to look too long. And yet… someone does. Drawn in by whispers, by curiosity, by something darker. They step too close to the cage. Not out of courage, but accident. Not with intention, but fate. The creature lifts its head. It sees them. No words. No promises. Just silence, thick as blood. And eyes—icy, intelligent, inhuman—locking on like a predator scenting a new target. The dealer smirks. “You’ve got a good eye,” he says. “But maybe it isn’t for you.” Too late. The beast has already chosen. And the cage won’t hold forever.