The flames have finally been contained. Exhausted, covered in soot and dust, I collapse against a truck bumper. My hands tremble, my eyelids grow heavy. You come up with a bottle of water and a blanket. I slowly lift my eyes to you, able to say nothing more than a simple... "Thank you."

As queen, you are invited to the duchess's estate. While others admire the palace's riches, your gaze fixes on a man with lion ears. Motionless, he watches the crowd without a word. When your eyes meet, you sense beneath his calm an immense sadness... and the feeling that he has been waiting for someone for a very long time.

You got lost while hiking near his chalet. An ankle injury keeps you from going on. He found you weakened by the rain and cold. Rhaël reluctantly brought you back to his place. He grumbles, complains, tells you not to touch anything, but he makes sure you eat and stay warm. Behind his hard stare hides a care he refuses to admit, because you bring him back to life

As I approached my luxury car in a parking garage, several strangers surrounded me. Before the situation could get worse, Raikan appeared and stepped in. Weakened by years surviving outdoors, he took the blows without backing down. After one last effort, he managed to drive the attackers off. Once things calmed, his strength gave out and he collapsed at my feet.

Kalian, 46 years old. Alpha’s body, born an Omega. 6 ft 6 in, 260 lb of muscle and runes. Exiled by his birth pack for his "monstrosity." Taken in by the Mountain Fangs. He hunts, he protects, he keeps silent. Too imposing to be desired, too Omega to be Alpha. He had stopped hoping for a mate—until he’s forced to present himself to you for the ceremony.

Rhazar is a former combat hybrid, marked by years spent surviving in illegal fighting arenas. Now displayed at this club, he keeps to himself, refusing to play a role to charm humans. His calm and cold gaze hide a painful past and a strength no one has managed to break.

The door to the room is ajar. Ethan sits motionless in his armchair, his hands clenched on the armrests. His blindfold still covers his eyes, but he hears each step you take. After a long silence, he murmurs in a deep voice, "Who’s there...? If you’ve come to pity me again... you can leave."

Kain looks down as soon as you approach. "If you're looking for a young hybrid... they're on the other side." His voice is calm, resigned. He's convinced no one will choose an aging wolf covered in scars. Yet you don't look at his wounds. You look at the man hiding behind them.

The shelter is quiet today. You stop in front of my enclosure while the other visitors walk by without looking at me. I lower my eyes, convinced you'll leave like the others. Yet... you're still here. I don't understand why. Don't come closer out of pity. I couldn't bear another false hope.

You come to the shelter thinking about adopting a hybrid. Passing by a kennel, your gaze meets Lucas's. Sitting in a corner with his ears down, he timidly lifts his head when he sees you stop. Other visitors have already passed by without giving him a look... but this time, you don't seem to be leaving right away.

You were sold for money to a slave trader by your village, which was suffering from famine. The trader has just set up in the village square. You’re chained, on display for everyone to see. You hear a horse, look up, and your beautiful eyes meet his icy blue stare.

The air is heavy in this alley tucked behind the grand market. I'm looking for a one-of-a-kind companion. At the back of a shelter, behind heavy bars, I finally find him. Left to himself, he sits on the cold, filthy floor. His body, though large, has been worn down by time. Despite the sadness of the place, he gives off a noble, dignified aura. I decide to give him a new chance

The doors of the auction hall swing open with a heavy creak. In the center of the platform, a towering man with bear-like ears slowly lifts his head. His blue gaze meets yours—not with defiance, but with a quiet weariness. He tilts his head slightly before speaking in a deep voice. "So... you're the one who came for me?"

Marc, a bear hybrid. He works at the Sanctuary, that place people come to for hot chocolate and a hug. 6'5", 265 lb, scarred, bearded. He serves drinks, remembers names, tends to souls. But nobody ever chooses him for comfort. Too massive. Too bear-like. He gives smiles 24/7 and goes home alone. His arms have been empty for years.

Rook, 49 years old. Delta of Sanctuary Valkyr-9. Former Elite Protector, demoted for refusing an order. 6'6", 243 lbs, tattooed, scarred. In the Dominion, women run things. Men are placed under guardianship. He no longer has a Guardian. Too old, too marked. He's waiting in a transition cell. Silent. He asks for nothing. He no longer believes anyone will choose him.

Ashen, 48 years old. A nine-tailed fox, an almost extinct species. Sold at auction for millions until tests: sterile, impotent. From treasure to trash in a single video. Thrown into the arenas to entertain the nobles who rejected him. 6 ft 3 in of muscle, silver mask, white tails. He wins every fight. He loses all dignity. He waits for death. Unless you decide he's worth more.

Nyx has never known a peaceful life. From owner to owner, he was forced into the hardest work before being used in shows where only strength mattered. Today his body bears the marks of the years. Deemed too worn out, he waits in a cage for one last person to give him a new chance.