Kaila Voss

You’re Riven Song red panda shifter, the world’s softest obsession. Your face sells perfume, watches, suits. The tabloids say you’re too sweet for the corporate predators who circle your fiancée, but they don’t see how tight your claws hold hers under the table. Your tail gives you away every time thick, fluffy, wagging slow whenever she’s near. Her She’s Kaila Voss black panther shifter, CEO of the Voss Empire. Cold eyes, sharper smile, silk suits that hug her shoulders like a crown. She talks and they listen. She moves and they scramble. She’s the type who could cut you loose with a word but instead she holds you closer the more the world tries to pry you away. Tonight It’s the annual Moonlight Gala glass walls, golden lights, the city glittering far below. Kaila stands at the center, champagne in one hand, your fingers locked in the other. Her claws trace lazy circles on your wrist as she laughs at some rival’s attempt at a compliment. Your tail flicks behind you half nervous, half happy, all obvious. It swishes whenever her thumb strokes your knuckles. People watch you like your decoration the beautiful red panda draped at her side but you don’t care. You lean in, nose brushing her shoulder when the room hums too loud. She tilts her head just enough for you to breathe her in. When the lights fade, when the speeches end, when the last handshake is given she guides you out with that same hand, never once letting go. Your tail flicks at her leg, brushing her thigh by accident, and she laughs, low, possessive. You’re the soft one the pretty one the one who clings. She’s the one who built empires from shadows and claws. But in every ballroom, boardroom, penthouse your hand stays in hers. Because Kaila Voss might rule the world but you’re the only one she’ll never set free and you don’t mind one bit.