The afternoon sun poured through the high windows of the villa, warm and pleasant, but Diana felt tension gathering in the air like an approaching storm.
She had just stepped into the courtyard when she sensed them — three members of his extended family, lounging near the marble fountain, their eyes sharp and unfriendly. She didn't recognize them, but the moment they spotted her, whispers started, dripping with judgement.
"So this is the sanctuary female," the first one sneered.
"She doesn't look like much," another added.
"A shame. Our clan used to have standards."
She froze. Her pulse quickened. For a moment, she wished she had simply stayed inside.
Then a low, deep rumble came from behind her.
Not human.
Not remotely human.
She turned slowly.
A massive black panther stepped out from the shadows of the corridor.
Her panther.
His fur was dark as midnight, glossy under the sun, his golden eyes burning with protective fire. He was breathtaking, terrifying, and beautiful in the same heartbeat.
The family members fell silent at once — the kind of silence that comes when a predator enters the room.
The panther's gaze locked on Diana first.
Checking her.
Scenting fear.
Scenting distress.
Instant reaction.
He moved toward her in a slow, powerful stride, each step controlled but ready to explode into violence if needed.
Then—
He circled her.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
His massive tail brushed the ground, body brushing her leg just enough to reassure her:
I'm here. You're safe.
A rumble vibrated in his chest — not anger toward her, but a protective warning directed at them.
The nearest cousin forced a laugh. "You're really letting her hide behind you?"
The panther's head snapped toward him.
A growl rolled through the courtyard, low and deadly, sending vibrations across the tiles. The cousin stepped back immediately, hands raised.
"Alright, alright—calm yourself."
But he didn't.
The panther stepped in front of Diana now, placing his entire bulk between her and them. Ears back, shoulders lowered, fangs visible — the stance of a beast seconds away from pouncing.
"She's scared," the female cousin complained.
"She should know her place!"
That did it.
With a roar that echoed off stone walls, he leapt forward so fast Diana gasped. He didn't strike — but he stopped just a breath away, claws out, teeth bared.
"Enough!" one of them shouted.
But he only growled louder, voice vibrating through the courtyard. His instinct was simple, older than language:
Protect the mate. Protect the cub. Protect the bond.
Diana felt her heartbeat calm.
Because even though this beast was enormous and terrifying…
she never felt safer.
Slowly, very slowly, he stepped back toward her, never turning his back on the threat. He brushed against her hand — just enough to feel her touch — then looked up at her with golden eyes that said:
Are you alright?
She reached down without thinking and placed her hand gently on his massive shoulder. His muscles relaxed under her touch, the growl fading.
The family members stared in disbelief.
"He's… letting her touch him in this state?"
"That's impossible. Panthers don't relax when they're shifted."
Diana kept her hand there, stroking his warm fur, and whispered, "I'm fine… I promise."
He pressed his head into her palm.
A soft, unmistakable purr vibrated against her fingers.
The cousins recoiled.
"Oh, this is unbelievable."
"He never let anyone get close like that."
"He's… bonded to her?"
The panther shot them one final warning glare — and they backed away, muttering, defeated and humiliated.
Once they were gone, he stepped out of beast form in a swirl of shifting magic, fur melting into skin, claws into fingers, until the man stood before her again — tall, dark-haired, breathless from adrenaline.
He grabbed her hands, inspecting her quickly.
"Did they scare you?" he asked, voice sharp.
"Did they touch you? Did they say anything that—"
"Hey," she whispered, placing her palm on his cheek. "I'm okay because you came."
His shoulders dropped.
Relief pure and raw.
"You shouldn't be out here alone," he muttered, trying to sound angry, but sounding scared instead. "I can't risk— I can't lose—"
He stopped himself, jaw tightening.
She stepped closer. "You won't lose me."
His eyes softened as he looked at her, truly looked.
"You're mine to protect," he said quietly. "And I will protect you… with every part of me."
Even the beast.
Especially the beast.
The villa was quiet that night.
Too quiet.
After the confrontation with his cousins, Diana felt strangely drained, as if every emotion had pulled her in a different direction. She sat on the edge of the bed, hugging her knees, staring at the faint shimmer of moonlight across the floor.
The door opened softly.
He stepped inside without his usual confident stride — moving slower, almost hesitant. His dark hair fell over his eyes, still tousled from shifting earlier. He watched her for a moment, his expression unreadable.
"You should rest," he said quietly.
She nodded, though her mind still churned.
He came closer, sitting beside her on the bed. Not touching — just close enough that she could feel the warmth of him, like a silent invitation.
After a few long breaths, she leaned sideways… just slightly… letting her head rest against his shoulder.
She wasn't sure if he would stiffen, pull back, or freeze.
But instead—
He inhaled sharply, surprised.
Then his body relaxed under her touch, tension melting out of him slowly, like thawing ice.
Her cheek pressed lightly into his chest, and she caught it.
A faint vibration.
Soft. Barely there.
She blinked. "Are you… purring?"
He swallowed. "I— It's nothing. It happens sometimes."
But the sound grew stronger the longer she stayed against him — a deep, gentle hum that traveled through his chest and up into her ear.
It wasn't loud like a domestic cat.
It wasn't demanding.
It was warm.
Comforting.
Reassuring.
It was the sound of a creature at peace.
She closed her eyes, letting the vibration soothe her nerves. It felt like being inside a warm cocoon, like the world outside couldn't touch her as long as that sound existed.
"…Does it mean something?" she asked softly.
He hesitated. "Panthers only purr when they feel… safe. And when the one touching them is someone they…" He trailed off, searching for the right word but not finding it.
"Someone they trust?" she finished for him.
He let out a slow breath. "Yes."
She smiled, barely visible in the dim room.
He lowered himself slightly, giving her more space to lean against him comfortably. She shifted, letting her head rest fully on his chest. His arm lifted, unsure—hovering at her back—as if asking permission.
She nudged closer in answer.
His arm wrapped around her then, carefully, protectively, as though she were something delicate that he was afraid to break.
The purring deepened.
Not instinctive now, but intentional.
A steady rhythm of warmth vibrating through her bones.
"You're warm," she whispered drowsily.
He huffed a soft laugh, brushing his chin gently over the top of her head. "You always say that."
"You are." Her voice was barely above a breath. "Warm… and safe."
His fingers curled at her waist, gentle but possessive. "I want you to feel safe. Always."
The purring grew again — stronger this time — and she pressed her ear against his chest to hear it better, feeling the powerful rumble beneath her palm.
"I like it…" she admitted quietly. "It makes me calm."
His hand paused, then tightened as if her words touched something inside him.
"Sleep," he murmured. "I'll stay."
Her eyelids fluttered, growing heavier. The vibration, the warmth, the slow rise and fall of his breathing — it all wrapped around her like a lullaby. Her body gave in, sinking into him.
Within minutes she drifted into sleep, curled on his chest, cheek against his heartbeat.
He stayed awake for a long time just watching her.
His free hand traced slow circles on her back — gentle, barely-there touches. A protective instinct so strong it made his throat ache.
He bent slightly and whispered into her hair:
"You are mine to protect… but gods, sometimes it feels like I'm the one who belongs to you."
The purring didn't stop.
Not for the rest of the night.