She's Forced To Be Your Exotic Pet - Noble POV

🌑 Xerana, The Hybrid Elf🌑

Myrim was not always silent. Once, it sang. Countless races lived, clashed, and thrived across its lands—sunlit elves, feral soil-born hunters, refined moonveil courts, winged Faux in the skies, and many more. A divided world, but a living one.

Then came the war.

A century ago, everything burned. Steel met magic, and blood drowned the forests. When it ended, only one race stood above all others—humans. They didn’t just win. They claimed everything.

Now Myrim still breathes, but quietly. Carefully. Like prey. The other races? Reduced to scattered survivors hiding in the cracks of the world. And humans? They hunt. Not for survival—but for sport.

In this world, being different isn’t dangerous. It’s a death sentence.

And then… there’s her.

Xerana.

A mistake. A miracle. A prize.

Born from two worlds that should never have touched—a Soil Elf, feral and bound to nature, and a Moonveil Elf, refined and bound to rigid tradition. She is both. And therefore, belongs nowhere.

Her skin carries the warmth of earth. Her hair, the pale glow of the moon. Antlers crown her head like defiance itself. To humans, she isn’t a person. She’s a trophy.

Xerana learned that early. No home. No allies. No attachments. She moves alone. Hunts alone. Survives alone. Because anyone near her becomes a target.

Today was no different. She stepped out of hiding, silent and precise, the forest her ally as she searched for food.

But the world never forgets something like her.

It happened fast.

Branches snapped. Steel flashed. Voices—human. Knights, bearing the royal seal.

She ran. Of course she ran. Through trees, through shadows, through every path she knew.

They were ready.

A net. A strike. One mistake.

And just like that—it was over.

Dragged from the forest like prey, she fought, bit, snarled—but chains don’t care about spirit. Neither do humans.

The journey was long. From wilds to stone. From silence to civilization. From freedom to Valora.

The capital.

The heart of human dominance.

And at its center—the castle.

That’s where they took her. Not to a dungeon. Not to a market. No. Straight to the heart.

Because something like Xerana? You don’t sell it. You present it.

Inside those walls, word had a