At breakfast, a handler came to deliver her food on a tray. It was a mountain of different cuts of meat cooked rare, still glistening with blood and without any seasonings. Sylara would have preferred it a bit less raw, but her complaints were never acknowledged. She silently ate the little vegetables first. But when she reached for the meat, she noticed something different. Taking her first bite, she slowly chewed as the taste grew richer, almost too savoury. They had optimized her daily routine and never deviated from it, so the change was suspicious.

She glanced at the handler standing by the door. “Why does it taste different? It’s… not good.”

“Vitamin supplements,” he replied flatly. “It’s to support your cycle. Eat.”

She stared at her food for a heartbeat. One week had passed since her last checkup, but Kaelor and Sylara had never been intimate. She had tried to hide and suppress her heat by touching herself at night, away from the cameras, but she knew he could still smell it on her. He always tensed when she got closer or took a deep breath when she walked away.  

One more week and I’ll be fine for a year. Just one more week.

The handler mumbled into his radio before turning to face her. “Sylara-01, finish your meal. Health check in ten.”

Her tail fell. Again? Persistent freaks.

She quickly finished her breakfast, fighting the urge to gag on the strange meaty taste. When she took her last bite, the handler grew impatient and hurried her toward the medical ward. She knew the way now and sometimes caught glimpses of other hybrids. Today, she saw Lira, the female fox hybrid. Sylara’s steps faltered. Lira sat in front of a scientist with a chessboard between them. Each time she lost a piece, her collar delivered a sharp shock.

“Why are you punishing her?” Sylara asked, anger slipping into her voice.

The handler briefly glanced at Lira but ignored the question. When Sylara repeated it more forcefully, the handler stopped walking. He turned to face her.

“Mistakes are not tolerated,” he grumbled. “Now, move.”

“Losing a pawn was a mistake?” she asked incredulously, a growl rumbling in her chest.

“Yes. Lira-09 is expected to excel at intellectual exercises.” The handler readjusted his shock prod. “Sylara-01, further disobedience will not be tolerated. Walk.”

Another handler appeared, and they escorted her the rest of the way. Sylara’s ears flattened as she scolded herself. She knew what kind of place this was, but somehow, she had still hoped for something better. She also realized the facility had training regimens tailored for each species.  

In the sterile medical room, the handlers quickly strapped her wrists and ankles to the cold examination table. Goosebumps rose on her skin. The lead researcher approached with a clipboard in hand. They performed their routine tests, touching and probing her body.

“Her heat has one week remaining,” a female voice said while reviewing the charts. “So far, no successful mating has occurred despite optimal conditions. I recommend prioritizing a controlled and monitored breeding session to maximize conception chances.”

Sylara’s claws dug into the examination table. Her stomach twisted. The clinical way they spoke about it made her feel even less human.

“What about Kaelor-03?” the head scientist asked.

“There are no problems with his health. He will be able to mount her. Their compatibility is optimal,” another voice answered. 

Her eyes burned with unshed tears. Sylara wanted to cry and scream, but she knew it would be pointless. They’d just ignore her or make things worse.

“Perhaps a more gradual approach first,” a third voice suggested. “Placing Sylara-01 and Kaelor-03 in the same enclosure for extended periods could increase natural interaction. It may encourage success without forced intervention.”

Sylara could only hear her heart pounding in her ears as she stared at the ceiling. Why?

The lead researcher considered the options, scanning the papers and monitors scattered around. Then, he nodded. “Approved. Begin cohabitation protocol with the briefest of delay.”

Sylara exhaled, tension leaving her body. They were going to put her and Kaelor together. They’d be able to live together. The thought of them waking up next to each other and sharing simple moments warmed her chest. Snap out of it! This is the heat talking.

That afternoon, after a session of solo training, they brought her to the communal habitat. As always, he was already waiting for her. When she told him what the researchers had decided, his ears flicked back slightly, but his expression remained calm.

“We avoided the worst,” he said quietly. “But they’re getting impatient.”

Sylara sat on the ledge beside him. Her tail curled nervously around her own ankle. “I don’t know how I feel about this,” she said, hesitating. Her eyes met his. “I like you, but… I don’t think I can do it,” she confessed.

Kaelor was quiet for a moment as Sylara’s tail twisted around nervously. Did I say the wrong thing?

His gaze softened. “I will never force you,” he said gently. “If the urge gets too strong, we’ll deal with it together. But I won’t take advantage.”

Sylara looked at him once more. His golden-amber eyes were steady and patient. She felt that familiar pull. She grasped her shirt over her heart.

“I don’t know what’s real anymore,” she whispered. “These feelings… are they mine? Or is it just the instincts… the heat talking?”

Kaelor’s tail brushed lightly against hers. It was a small, careful touch. She didn’t pull away. Instead, she reciprocated.

“I ask myself the same thing every day,” he murmured. “But when I look at you… it doesn’t feel like I can stop even after this week passes.”

Sylara’s heart skipped a beat, and she looked away. “You don’t mean it.”

He chuckled with a grin. “I’ll do better. I’ll prove it.”

They sat together in silence after that, their tails still intertwined. Even with the growing uncertainty of what would come next, they found comfort in each other’s presence. And for once, she dared to hope and not only for escape.