The Duke's Killer Rabbit [BL]

"I said… give that back," Clint muttered.

But the tiger only smirked.

The tiger Beastblood looked at the potion again, then smirked and suddenly threw it to the side like it was trash.

"No!" Clint shouted, eyes wide as he moved fast.

With quick reflex, Clint brought up his knee and aimed it hard toward the tiger's lower body, hoping to stun him but the tiger moved just in time, twisting his hips to dodge it smoothly.

Clint turned and sprinted after the flying potion, his legs pushing hard against the ground, eyes focused on the glinting glass as it spun in the air.

He reached out, almost close But a rough tug yanked him back.

The tiger had grabbed a fistful of his clothes.

Clint gritted his teeth and struggled hard, twisting his body.

His clothes tore under the pressure, ripping at the shoulder seam, and Clint stumbled forward with the force of his own momentum.

He dove toward the potion.

Just as he reached it, it crashed down hitting the edge of a loose stone on the path with a sharp crack.

The bottle broke.

The glowing liquid inside poured straight down… and hit him.

Clint winced, falling to his knees and catching himself with one hand as the cool liquid splashed onto his forehead, running down his cheek and nose, dripping over his lips.

He sat there, breathing heavily, clothes torn, back aching, Some of the potion had gotten into his mouth.

He licked his lips slowly, tasting the strange metallic-sweet flavor.

'I hope this small drop is enough to take effect…' he thought, wiping his face and looking down at the shattered glass on the ground.

Clint wiped the last drop of the potion from his cheek. His hand tightened into a fist as he turned around, ready for anything—

But his eyes widened the moment he faced him.

The tiger Beastblood was already in front of him, crouching low like a predator ready to pounce.

His striped tail flicked behind him lazily, and his golden eyes glowed with amusement as he looked Clint up and down like a curious toy.

"What an interesting prey," the tiger muttered, his voice low and amused, lips curled in a grin that showed sharp teeth.

Clint scowled and slowly stood up, brushing dust off his torn clothes.

He was still hurting from the throw earlier.

"I have an offer for you," the tiger said, standing up slowly to his full height, towering over Clint as his muscles flexed beneath the sleeveless vest he wore. "If you still want to get out of here alive…"

Clint didn't even let him finish. His voice came out firm and flat.

"No."

But the tiger chuckled, as if Clint hadn't said a thing, completely unfazed by the refusal.

"You become mine," he said calmly. "My servant. You follow my orders, stay by my side, fight when I tell you to, kneel when I command. That's the deal."

Clint's glare sharpened, his jaw clenched, but the tiger kept talking.

"You're fast, stronger than you look. And that scent… you're not just a bunny. There's something else inside you, something rare."

The tiger leaned forward a little, voice almost a whisper now. "I can help you figure it out. But in return… you serve me."

'This bastard thinks I'll say yes just to survive? Tch.' he thought,

Clint's glare deepened as he opened his mouth to speak again, ready to throw the same sharp "No" right in the tiger's smug face.

But the he moved faster.

A rough hand grabbed Clint's jaw, fingers pressing against his cheek, not painfully, but firm enough to keep his face still.

"I don't take no as an answer," the tiger said with a low voice,

Clint growled low in his throat, trying to jerk his head away, but the tiger tilted it side to side, examining him like he was some object for sale. "Not bad," he muttered, almost amused.

Clint's patience snapped. He lifted his arm to punch the guy square in the face but the he caught it mid-swing, grip tight, twisting his arm behind his back in one smooth motion.

"Tch—!" Clint hissed, trying to wriggle free, but the tiger move closer, and now their faces were inches apart.

He could feel the man's breath against his skin, the warmth of it brushing his cheek as the tiger's eyes dropped to his lips for a second too long. Clint's heart pounded, not from fear, but from the frustration of being caught again and again.

"You're just full of surprises," the tiger said quietly, voice calm but filled with something Clint couldn't quite name.

Clint's eyes widened the moment he noticed the tiger Beastblood moving even closer, his eyes still locked onto Clint's lips like he was seconds away from leaning in, and Clint felt his breath catch.

So just before the tiger could close the distance, Clint did the only thing that came to mind, he slammed his forehead forward as hard as he could.

There was a painful bump as their heads collided with a loud sound, and the tiger let out a grunt of pain, stumbling back with one hand over his face while Clint hissed from the sting but didn't stop, trying to stand up quickly, his balance shaky.

Just as he lifted one foot and took a step, the tiger reached out and grabbed his ankle, yanking him back so fast he lost his balance again, falling hard toward the ground with no time to catch himself.

His eyes shut tight, bracing for the impact that never came, because a firm hand caught him mid-fall, and at the same time, he felt something warm and sharp came out at the top of his head.

Clint gasped, his breath heavy and when he looked up, his voice came out barely above a whisper filled with shock and disbelief as he saw the person holding him.

"Duke…?!"

'Wait, How?!' Clint Thought. 'He'll recognize me!'