The Duke's Killer Rabbit [BL]

Suddenly, Clint's body tensed. He felt something slicing through the air—a sharp, fast presence.

Without thinking, he ducked low.

An arrow flew past the spot where his head had been just a second ago, hitting the tree behind him with a hard thud.

Vale, still beside him, smoothly sidestepped, hands still in his pockets. 

"Geez," he muttered, glancing toward the trees. "Looks like he grew fond of you already."

Clint's eyes narrowed. He heard footsteps now—fast, firm, getting closer.

His body jolted with a strange pull in his chest then suddenly, He shrank. His limbs twisted.

Ears stretched, fur sprouted, and in a soft pop, he turned back into the black bunny form.

His eyes widened. "What the—?! Again?!"

Vale crouched next to him, eyes calm.

"Remember what I said," he said quickly. "Also… it's better not to run from him. The Duke, I mean."

Clint twitched an ear but didn't move. Vale stood, then took a step back.

"You're safe with him… for now. Let's meet again, bunny boy." Then, like a blur, he turned and ran—fast, too fast for Clint to follow. His figure disappeared into the dark trees.

Clint, still in bunny form, flattened his ears in irritation. "Tch. Safe, my ass."

But deep inside, 'I have to stay close to that Duke until I confirm what this lunatic said. If it's the only way home… I need to know.'

Then—the steps stopped.

A heavy, cold presence filled the air behind him.

He didn't even need to turn.

It's Him

Clint felt a shadow fall over him, then a firm hand lifted him from the ground. Warm, but tight.

The Duke was frowning.

Clint strength was slipping away fast. 'Damn it…' he thought. 'Transforming took too much out of me…'

Everything started to blur again.

The last thing he saw was the Duke's worried face, and the soft shift of moonlight across his pale hair.

_______________

The garden was full of noise.

Maids rushed through the tall grass, their aprons swaying as they searched every bush and flowerbed.

"Mr. Bunny?!" one called out, voice shaking.

"Please come out!" another said, nearly in tears.

"Oh no… oh no… the Duke will have our heads if we lost him!"

They were terrified.

Meanwhile, the "lost" bunny in question was nowhere near the garden.

Clint was already inside the estate, hopping silently through the wide hallway, his ears perked, nose twitching, and expression annoyed.

Clint had been hopping freely around the estate At first, he thought someone would stop him. After all, he was a random black bunny in a noble's mansion.

But no one did.

Some maids gave him nervous glances, then quickly looked away.

Guards at the hallway doors didn't react either. One even nodded slightly when Clint passed.

But after a few days, he understood. Everyone here must have been told. He's The Duke's pet. Untouchable.

He passed the dining room… the hall with the paintings… and turned left toward the back part of the estate.

A few moments later, he reached his destination.

It was cool and dim inside, with stone floors and shelves lined with food barrels and sacks of grains. In this world, it would probably be called the pantry or storeroom, used by the kitchen workers to store supplies.

And at the far corner, just like always, was a small basket of carrots, clearly placed there for him.

Clint jumped up into the basket, grabbed one carrot between his teeth, and leaned against the edge, chewing slowly.

His thoughts returned—again—to the same frustration that had been bothering him all week.

"Duke Darius Valen Beaumont, I've been observing him every single day… watching how he talks, how he walks, who visits him, what he reads—hell, even how he sleeps."

"But I still can't tell—is he really into men? Or was that idiot Vale just messing with me?"

He rolled the carrot between his paws, eyes narrowing.

"He doesn't flirt. Doesn't talk to anyone. Doesn't even look at people longer than necessary. The man's a walking block of ice."

He lay back in the basket, annoyed. Outside, the maids were still crying out for him.

"…Tch. And now they're all panicking again."

Later that afternoon, The Maid froze when they saw the Duke already standing at the hallway's end, holding Clint gently in his arms.

The black bunny wiggled a little,The Duke looked down at him, Clint narrowed his eyes and let out a small squeak. "What? What are you looking at?!"

It came out as squeek squeek squeek to everyone else.

The Duke didn't answer.

He simply turned and walked down the corridor, still holding Clint with one arm, his stride silent and steady.

Clint stopped struggling and just sighed in his thoughts. "Not again…"

They entered a room Clint hadn't been in before. The room was quiet except for the soft ticking of a silver wall clock and the gentle clink of porcelain as the maid set the teacups down.

Clint sat on the Duke's lap, ears twitching slightly as he glanced between the two men now seated across from each other.

Just as the maid bowed and stepped out, she left something else behind that Clint didn't expect.

a small, handmade book—its cover soft and sturdy, and in the center, a gold-pressed symbol of a rabbit surrounded by stars.

Clint's eyes blinked at it, surprised, but the Duke didn't speak right away. Instead, he calmly picked up the little book with one hand and gently placed it in front of Clint on his lap.

The bunny stared at it, then flicked his eyes up at the Duke, confused.

The Duke, without turning to look at him said "You seemed interested in the documents I read every night. I asked them to make you something easier to understand."

Clint was caught off guard.

'He remembered…' almost every night, while pretending to sleep or sitting by the window, he would peek at whatever thick books or scrolls the Duke was reading.

His eyes had always been sharp, and curiosity came naturally—he couldn't help but glance through the strange symbols and diagrams even if he didn't understand most of it. But apparently, the Duke had noticed.

'So you were watching me too,' Clint thought, narrowing his eyes.

Still, he leaned forward and opened the book.

The letters were big and clean, spaced out in a way that was easy to follow even with small paws.

The book had short stories simple, magical fables about forest creatures, written in enchanted ink that seemed to whisper the meaning to his mind as he read.

Clint gave a small scoff in his head, but kept flipping the pages.