His Predator

She was made to kill. He was made to be her target.

Im the perfect weapon—silent, fast, and deadly. My handler points, I hunt. I dont use bullets. I use my teeth. My claws. The way nature intended. A gun is a cowards weapon—my prey deserves to face their predator.

Its simple. Clean. I dont question the names on my list because Im told theyre monsters who deserve whats coming.

Until him.

Hes supposed to be my next target. Another evil man who needs to disappear. But when I get close, nothing adds up. Hes not the monster they claimed. And the longer I watch him, the harder it becomes to make the kill.

My spots are breaking through my skin, my teeth extending, my eyes burning amber with predator fire—a warning Im losing control. My claws ache to extend. Not to kill him. To protect him.

But my handler is watching. Waiting. And if I dont complete this mission, well both pay the price.

Some prey should never be hunted. Some predators were never meant to be caged.