At my lowest point that year, I took a job at a pet shop, where I was assigned to take care of a "gentle-tempered" silver-white Alaskan Malamute.

Every time I went near him, he would lift his head and bury his nose against my chest, breathing in low, rough sounds that felt disturbingly like a grown man holding himself back.

Especially when my hand brushed through his beautiful fur, his body would heat up, and his eyes would darken and burn with unmistakable possessiveness.

Thinking he was sick, I rushed to find the shop owner.

The owner gave me a long, meaningful glance.

"He's not sick. But he only acts like this with you.

"You need to bathe him, give him a full-body massage, and try giving him a little kiss. Otherwise, he might lose control."

I had my doubts about the whole thing, but I didn't really have a choice. I went along with it anyway.

Eventually, I told the friend who had gotten me this job everything that had been happening.

After she heard me out, she went quiet for a second.

Then, she looked at me strangely and said, "Have you ever thought that maybe you're not looking after a dog at all? What if he's actually a werewolf who can take human form, and he's in heat, using pheromones to mess with you because he wants to… You know, sleep with you?"

After being thrown out of the house by my stepmom, Beatrice Hum, I went to stay with my friend, Allie Webster, in Mapleford.

When I arrived at Allie's place, with bags piled all around me, she blushed and told me, "Kelsey, I have a boyfriend now. I might not be able to let you stay…"

Before I could even start feeling sad, she quickly added, "Didn't you say you were looking for a job? I have one that's perfect for you."

She handed me a job ad, her cheeks still pink.

"It's an amazing job. That's actually how I met my boyfriend…"

After saying that, she gave me a warm kiss on the cheek, grabbed her bag, and rushed out the door.

"Wish me luck! When I get married, you have to be my maid of honor."

Being broke left me with no choice but to apply for this very strange job.

The place listed in the ad was a luxury mansion, with a stunning garden spread across the front yard. Dozens of large dogs were lying around the garden in small groups, lazily sunbathing.

The moment I walked in, all the dogs rushed at me as if I were a massive steak, happily rubbing against my chest.

In the middle of my confusion, I felt someone pat my butt.

I spun around, but there was no one there; only a silver-white Alaskan Malamute sitting behind me, staring with eyes full of possessiveness.

"They all really like you. Looks like you'll do just fine taking care of them."

The sudden voice startled me. A man in a tailcoat walked over with a polite smile and gave me a small nod. He looked like the owner.

I looked at him in shock and said, "So you're telling me that a job that demands I be over five-foot-seven, weigh less than a hundred and twenty pounds, look good, sound cute, and wear a sailor outfit to work is…"

A pet sitter?

Was the pet-sitting business really this hard to get into now?

"The pay is 130 dollars an hour. Any concerns about the salary?"

I straightened my back, gave a perfect maid-style bow, and smiled at the manager.

"None at all. I can start right now!"

With pay like that, I could live a great life!

"Excellent. I'm Fletcher Anderson, the guardian of these distinguished gentlemen."

Fletcher nodded in satisfaction, then looked at the dogs surrounding me and seemed troubled.

"You may choose one of them to serve. You know, they have very high standards. The caretaker has to deal with them one-on-one."

No problem. For that pay, I could treat them like royalty.

As for which one to choose…

My eyes were drawn straight to that beautiful Alaskan Malamute.

From the very first glance, I was captivated by his cold, handsome look. If I had to choose one, it would be him without hesitation.

Fletcher looked at the Alaskan Malamute. He lay calmly by my side and seemed completely satisfied with my choice.

Fletcher turned to me in surprise and said, "You're the first person Lord Allen has ever accepted. He's not showing any signs of rejection. This is incredible!"

The other dogs seemed to sense something terrible and quickly retreated, hiding far away from me.

The only one left at my side was the beautiful Alaskan Malamute named "Lord Allen".

"In that case, Lord Allen is now under your care. All his meals will be delivered by staff. This is Lord Allen's meal list. He is extremely picky, so you must memorize everything on it."

I took the stack of papers. It was nearly ten pages long, and I fell silent.

Then Fletcher continued, "Daily care is just the basics. You must stay close to Lord Allen, keep yourself neat and clean at all times, and fulfill any request he makes, including any special services."

It looked like this dog belonged to some wealthy family and had been spoiled since he was little. That 130-dollar-an-hour pay was clearly not easy money.

At the time, I was only worried about how demanding this job sounded.

I never imagined that even bigger trouble was waiting ahead.

That very day, I moved into the luxury villa.

What confused me was that all the other big dogs I had seen before disappeared the moment I officially started working.

And that beautiful Alaskan Malamute actually had an entire villa to himself.

As Lord Allen's personal caretaker, I was assigned the second-largest bedroom, right next to the master bedroom.

The room was shockingly huge. Even back when Beatrice hadn't kicked me out, and I was still a rich girl, I had never lived in a room this big.

I moved all my luggage in, which only took up a tiny corner of the room.

"What kind of rich family is this? Even their dog gets his own villa," I mumbled to myself, feeling amazed.

Still, I didn't think about it too much and quickly slipped into work mode.

The job was surprisingly easy. All I had to do was attend to Lord Allen's daily needs. Everything else was handled by the staff, so I didn't have to worry about it.

Even though this beautiful dog was very picky, I chose his favorite ingredients from the menu every day, cooked them, and fed him myself.

Whenever I held the food up to his mouth, he would stare at me, his throat moving slightly as strange sounds came from deep in his chest.

It sounded a little like the low, restrained breathing of a grown man.

After seeing this happen again and again, I started to wonder if something was wrong with him.

So the next time I fed him, I hesitated and reached out to him.

He didn't dodge my hand, but his body clearly went stiff, and his thick tail swayed a couple of times on its own.

Seeing his tail move, I felt relieved and went ahead and touched him.

The strange sounds from his throat grew a little clearer, and his beautiful eyes slowly closed.

His whole body was burning hot.

I thought he just didn't like being touched, so I reluctantly pulled my hand back and continued feeding him like before.

But that night, half asleep, I felt someone kissing me.

I felt a pair of lips touch my forehead, then my chin and my neck, and finally my mouth, moving slowly and brushing against me again and again.

Warm breath hit my face, and at the same time, a large hand was slowly moving along my waist, sliding up my back, and stopping at my shoulder.

The strap of my sleepwear slipped off my shoulder as that hot hand pressed down, sending a shiver through my body.

I wanted to refuse, but my body betrayed me and responded on its own.

In my foggy state, I felt something licking at my chest, like the touch of a grown man.

I jolted awake from the dream, startled by the warm weight pressed against me.

When I looked down, I saw that the Alaskan Malamute had somehow crawled into my bed and was sprawled across my chest, sleeping soundly.

My face immediately burned red, and I wanted nothing more than to slap myself.

He was just a cute dog who climbed into bed to sleep with me. How could I have such a dirty dream?

Later, with the usually cold and aloof Alaskan Malamute lying across my legs, I couldn't help but run my hand over his smooth fur and fluffy ears.

His breathing paused for a few seconds, and his body slowly stiffened.

I could feel his temperature rising. When he opened his eyes, they were fixed on me. The clear amber color was gone, replaced by a deep red.

It felt like he was trying to hold himself back.

I panicked. Taking care of Lord Allen was my job, and if he got sick, Fletcher would definitely blame me.

I nervously lifted his head in my hands, completely unaware that the front of my sleepwear was damp, and a thin string of drool hung at the corner of Lord Allen's mouth.

"Fletcher, come quickly! Lord Allen is sick!"

Fletcher appeared unbelievably fast, as if he had materialized in my room in an instant.

But just as I tried to turn around, Lord Allen pinned my shoulder down with his paw, holding me in place so I couldn't move.

He let out a warning growl at Fletcher, making me freeze in shock.

The sound was like a wild beast in the forest, sending chills straight down my spine.

Fletcher took two steps back, looking helpless and faintly…amused.

"Alright, alright, I am leaving. Don't be mad, Lord Allen."

The moment I heard Fletcher say he was leaving, I panicked and forgot to be scared.

Hugging the big dog, I said urgently, "Fletcher, don't go! Lord Allen was acting strangely just now. Can you check if he's sick?"

The Alaskan's eyes looked even redder, and the skin under my hands felt hotter than before.

My legs nearly gave out, and cold sweat broke out across my back.

Behind me came a quiet snort, as if someone were laughing and then quickly holding it in.

"Do not worry. Lord Allen isn't sick. Maybe he just needs a bath. Hold him a little, give him a kiss, then bathe him with warm water and finish with a full-body massage. I guarantee he'll be just fine."

The moment Fletcher finished speaking, Lord Allen leapt off my bed and charged toward the door like a cannonball.

But Fletcher was clearly prepared. After the hurried sound of a door slamming shut came the sharp screech of dog claws scratching against wood.

I jumped off the bed in a panic and ran barefoot to the dog, carefully checking every inch of his body.

Only after confirming that nothing seemed wrong did I finally relax.

"He's still very active. Looks like he's fine."

Thinking about what Fletcher had said left me full of questions.

I had never heard of dogs needing massages, especially full-body ones.

Still, since those were Fletcher's instructions, I decided to follow them even though I didn't understand.

I started to prepare the bathroom so I could give Lord Allen a warm bath.

But when I stood up, I realized my back was soaked in cold sweat and felt sticky and uncomfortable.

I decided that before bathing Lord Allen, I should soak in a hot bath myself to calm my nerves.

Lying in the steaming bathtub, I put on a steam eye mask and sighed in comfort.

Ever since Dad married Beatrice, I had been living like a beggar.

All my pretty clothes were gone. Even the things Mom left behind had all been taken by my stepsister, Laurel Hum.

As for my old bedroom, Beatrice used the excuse that I was away at college most of the time and gave it to Laurel, leaving me only a windowless basement room.

I thought that if I just endured quietly, we could all get along. However, right after I graduated from college, Beatrice threw me out.

But it didn't matter anymore.

With this job, I was far away from Beatrice and Laurel, and my life was better than before. I was genuinely happy.

The water was so comfortable that I slowly drifted off to sleep.

In my half-dreaming state, something wet brushed against my shoulder, like something was licking me.

I waved my hand weakly and muttered to Lord Allen, "Wait a little. I'll wash you after I finish my bath."

A moment later, my shoulder was licked again, and it slowly moved up to my neck. Warm breath brushed against my skin, making me laugh from the ticklish feeling.

"Alright, Lord Allen. Stop it. It tickles."

When that warmth reached my chest, my body went soft. I moaned as I tried to push him away.

"Hey, not there. You can't lick there."

I reached out to push, but my hand touched smooth skin.

Something was wrong. Why was there no fur?

Alarmed, I hurriedly pulled off the eye mask.

What I saw was not the familiar Alaskan Malamute at all, but a naked man with black hair and blue eyes, rough and wild in a way that felt untamed.

He hovered close above me, his ocean-blue eyes locked deeply onto mine.

My eyes flew wide open, my lips parting as I tried to scream.

The next second, his mouth crashed against mine, swallowing my voice so that only broken whimpers escaped.